The world felt distant.
Muffled voices bled into each other—low, urgent, edged in tension.
My body was heavy. My limbs ached like I had just fought for days without rest.
I tried to move. My fingers twitched.
Pain flared instantly.
I barely swallowed down the sharp gasp that threatened to escape.
[Notice: Recovery in Progress. Mana reserves depleted. Physical exhaustion at critical levels.]
Great Sage's voice rang through my mind, clear but clinical. I forced myself to focus, pushing through the fog in my head.
The voices were getting clearer.
I wasn't in the training grounds anymore.
I was… home?
My eyes fluttered open.
The soft glow of evening light filtered through the curtains. My bed—my room. The familiar scent of herbal salves and freshly laundered sheets grounded me.
I exhaled slowly.
I was alive.
But then—
"—You pushed her too far!"
I froze.
That was Mom's voice.
And she sounded furious.
I barely had the strength to turn my head, but I didn't have to. Their voices cut through the walls like a blade through silk.
"She's five years old, Calamitas. Five."
A pause. Then—Calamitas' voice, languid and entirely unbothered.
"She's a fighter. She needed to be pushed."
"She nearly lost control."
"She did lose control. And that's exactly why she needed this."
Mom's voice dropped lower—dangerous. "You don't get to decide that."
A slow chuckle. "Oh? You think sheltering her will help? You saw what happened out there, didn't you? You saw the same thing I did."
Silence.
Then—
"She's dangerous, Lelyah."
My breath caught.
"She is my daughter."
"She is something else, and you know it." Calamitas' tone sharpened, losing its usual teasing edge. "Pretend all you want, but she's not normal. And if she doesn't learn to control it—"
A sharp crack echoed through the house.
I stiffened.
Had—had Mom just struck her?
Another silence followed. This one heavier.
Then, Calamitas laughed softly. "Oh, I see."
Something about her voice made my skin crawl.
"You're afraid of her, aren't you?"
I barely had time to process what I had just heard before my bedroom door creaked open.
I tensed instinctively, but the second I saw who it was, my body relaxed.
Reilan.
His expression was unreadable, but his sharp eyes flicked over me—checking, assessing. His usual controlled demeanor wavered just slightly. Just enough for me to catch it.
Relief.
He exhaled softly before stepping fully inside, shutting the door behind him.
I tried to push myself upright. My arms trembled. Reilan was next to me instantly, pressing a firm hand to my shoulder.
"Don't." His voice was quiet, but firm. "You're in no condition to move."
I wanted to argue. But my body made the decision for me. Pain shot through my limbs, and I gritted my teeth, sinking back against the pillows.
I exhaled sharply. "What… happened?"
Reilan's gaze flicked over me again, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly.
"You collapsed," he said, keeping his voice low. "That's all I know."
I frowned. "Collapsed?"
He nodded. "That's what Lady Lelyah said. You overexerted yourself."
Overexerted? That wasn't right.
I remembered pushing myself. I remembered fighting. But collapsing? That wasn't—
A sharp pulse echoed through my skull. Not pain. A sensation.
Something was missing.
I exhaled sharply. "How long?"
Reilan's expression flickered—just barely.
"Half a day."
Half a day?
His gaze flicked toward the door, where Mom and Calamitas were still arguing. The tension in his shoulders tightened.
I could hear that mom's voice wasn't raised, but the sharp edge in her tone cut through the walls like steel.
A chuckle. Low, amused. "Oh, please. She handled it better than most adults."
"Again, you pushed her too far."
"I gave her what she needed."
A sharp exhale. Tension thickened.
"Her training is my decision," Mom's voice was like ice. "You don't get to make that choice."
"I think I already did."
Silence.
Then—
"She could've died."
For a second, neither of them spoke.
Then, Calamitas hummed, low and thoughtful. "And yet, she didn't."
A flicker of something passed through me. My fingers curled into the sheets.
Reilan's grip on my shoulder tightened slightly. He heard it too.
He hesitated, then finally spoke, his voice softer.
"...Lady Lelyah has been arguing with Calamitas since you were brought back."
I swallowed. "What about Father?"
A pause.
"...Lord Satoshi hasn't come back yet."
Something twisted in my stomach.
Father hadn't come back.
A dull ache spread through my chest—one that had nothing to do with my injuries.
I gritted my teeth. "Where is he?"
Reilan hesitated. Just slightly.
"I don't know."
Liar.
I knew that look. The way his jaw tensed, the way his eyes flickered away for half a second.
He knew.
And if he knew, then that meant…
A chill crawled down my spine. My breath felt too shallow, like I had inhaled only half of what I needed.
He knew where Father was.
Or worse—he knew why he left.
I exhaled sharply, my fingers curling tighter into the sheets.
"Reilan." My voice was quiet, but firm. "Tell me the truth."
His lips pressed together into a thin line.
Then—
"…He left after you collapsed."
Left?
I frowned. "Left where?"
Reilan's fingers twitched at his sides. "Somewhere alone. No one followed him."
A sharp pressure built in my throat.
No one followed him.
That was the part that didn't make sense.
Father was never alone.
He was the head of House Tomaszewski. A warrior. A noble. A leader. Someone always followed. A shadow, a retainer, a guard—someone.
But this time?
Nothing.
Unless…
Unless he ordered them not to.
My mind was racing.
A memory flickered at the edges of my consciousness—Calamitas' voice, smug and knowing:
"You think you can protect her from me? You couldn't even protect your own bloodline."
Father had lost control, just like I had.
And now, he was gone.
I swallowed hard. "I need to—"
Reilan's hand pressed down on my shoulder, firmer this time. "You're not going anywhere."
I glared at him. "Reilan—"
"No." His tone was final.
I clenched my jaw.
He wasn't going to budge.
But that didn't mean I would sit here and do nothing.
I exhaled through my nose, tilting my head back slightly.
"Great Sage."
[Listening.]
"Give me a full summary of my condition."
A beat.
[Physical exhaustion at critical levels. Mana reserves at 2%. Projected full recovery: 36 hours.]
I frowned. Too long.
"Is there a way to speed it up?"
[Options available: Forced Mana Regeneration—WARNING: Potential risk of backlash. Proceed?]
I hesitated.
Before I could decide—
Reilan's voice cut through my thoughts.
"…What happened Chiori?"
I blinked.
The weight of the question settled over me.
I turned to him slowly.
He wasn't looking at me anymore. His gaze had dropped slightly—to my hands.
No, past my hands.
At my tails.
All four of them extended behind me—uncontrolled, shifting slightly in the air as if responding to my pulse.
I hadn't even noticed them.
I inhaled sharply, willing them to disperse.
Nothing happened.
My chest tightened.
This wasn't normal. They always responded when I dismissed them. Always.
[Notice: System Alert—Mana Regulation Failure Detected.]
My breath hitched.
[Analysis Complete. Explanation: The subject's mana reserves are dangerously unstable due to prolonged overuse. Current status: Critical threshold reached. Automatic suppression failing.]
I exhaled sharply. "What does that mean?"
A beat.
Then—
[Warning: The subject is approaching the onset of Mana Exhaustion Syndrome (MES).]
A cold chill ran down my spine.
MES.
I had read about it before.
But it had never been relevant.
Until now.
A sharp knock on the door nearly made me jolt.
Then—
The door swung open.
"Chiori."
Mom's voice was clipped, her tone dangerously low.
I barely had time to process before she strode inside, shutting the door behind her with a force that made the walls tremble.
Reilan tensed beside me.
Mom's eyes flickered across the room, assessing, calculating. Then—
She stopped.
Her gaze locked onto my tails.
Her brows furrowed.
"…Chiori."
I swallowed thickly. "I can't dismiss them."
Mom's lips pressed into a thin line.
A flicker of something passed through her eyes.
Then—her shoulders relaxed. But I knew that look. She was furious.
Not at me.
At Calamitas.
She exhaled sharply, stepping toward me. Her hand barely ghosted over my shoulder before she pulled back, hesitating.
I had never seen her hesitate before.
That made something in my chest tighten.
She inhaled deeply, forcing her voice to steady.
"You're experiencing MES."
I clenched my fists. "I didn't know."
Mom's gaze softened—just barely.
"Of course you didn't," she murmured. "Because this was never supposed to happen at your age."
Reilan's expression darkened slightly. "What exactly is MES?"
Mom turned her gaze toward him.
Then, slowly, she spoke.
"Mana Exhaustion Syndrome is the result of overtaxing your mana beyond its natural limit. It's more than just burnout. It's a complete system failure. A body forced beyond what it was designed to handle."
She exhaled sharply. "Most mages experience minor cases of exhaustion when they push themselves too hard. But true MES? It's rare. And it's deadly."
A heavy silence settled in the room.
Reilan's jaw clenched.
I tried to swallow the unease clawing at my throat. "How do I stop it?"
Mom's gaze flickered to my tails again.
Then—
She raised her hand, palm up.
Light flickered softly, glowing at her fingertips.
"You need to let go."
I hesitated.
"…Let go?"
Her expression softened just slightly.
"You're holding on too tightly," she murmured. "You don't even realize it, but your magic—you're gripping onto it, not calmly using it."
I swallowed hard.
I had always controlled my mana. It had never resisted.
Never acted on its own.
But now?
It wasn't listening.
I clenched my fists.
"Just breathe," Mom said softly. "And let it go."
I inhaled shakily.
Then—
I closed my eyes.
And I let go.
A slow exhale.
The air around me shifted.
My mana shuddered, flickering—hesitating—
Then, finally—
My tails faded.
The weight in my chest lifted.
I sagged against the pillows, exhaustion crashing down on me all at once.
Mom caught me before I could slump too far, steadying me gently.
Her fingers brushed against my temple, her expression unreadable.
Then—she turned toward Reilan.
"Stay with her," she ordered. "I need to have another word with Calamitas."
Her voice was dangerous.
Reilan nodded. "Understood."
Without another word, Mom turned and left, the door shutting with quiet finality behind her.
The room felt too quiet after she was gone.
I exhaled shakily.
Reilan's gaze lingered on me, unreadable.
"…Are you alright?"
I let out a weak chuckle.
"No."
His lips twitched slightly. "Figured."
I forced myself to shift slightly. My body still ached, but the worst of the pressure had passed.
"…Do you think she's going to kill Calamitas?" I muttered.
Reilan tilted his head slightly.
Then, after a beat—
"…She won't kill her."
I raised a brow. "Oh?"
His eyes glinted.
"But she'll make her wish she was dead."
I snorted.
Fair enough.
I exhaled slowly, letting my body sink further into the mattress. The weight in my limbs hadn't fully left, but at least I could breathe without feeling like my ribs would crack.
Across from me, Reilan remained quiet, watching carefully. He was always composed, always calculating, but this time—I could tell.
He was waiting.
For what, I wasn't sure.
It wasn't awkward. Not exactly. But there was something about the way he was watching me that made my skin prickle—like he was waiting for me to break the silence first.
I didn't.
Not yet.
Instead, I exhaled slowly, tilting my head back against the pillow, letting my gaze drift toward the ceiling.
"…She really said I was dangerous, huh?"
Reilan didn't answer right away.
Then—
"She did."
A pause.
I scoffed lightly, but it lacked any real amusement. "Tch. Figures."
I wasn't sure if I was talking about Calamitas or my mother.
Probably both.
Reilan hummed in acknowledgment, but his gaze never wavered. He was still watching me. Studying me.
I finally turned back toward him, arching a brow. "You're thinking too hard."
His expression didn't change. "Am I?"
"Yes."
Another pause. Then—
"…You didn't deny it."
The statement was simple, but it carried weight.
I pressed my lips together, feeling something uncomfortable settle in my chest.
"I don't know if I should," I admitted.
Reilan inhaled softly. "You don't have to."
That surprised me.
I blinked. "You believe that?"
He tilted his head slightly, as if considering his words carefully.
Then—
"I believe that whatever happened in the training grounds… it wasn't normal."
I tensed.
"But," he continued, his eyes steady, unwavering, "I also believe that you are still you."
I swallowed.
Something about that—about how easily he said it—made my chest feel tight.
What if I wasn't?
I exhaled slowly. Measured. Controlled. The same way I always did when something pressed against my ribs too tightly, threatening to slip past my grip.
But this time, it didn't help.
The words clawed at the edges of my mind, like a splinter too deep to pull out.
What if Calamitas was right?
What if Mom—had hesitated because, deep down, she knew it, too?
What if I was something else?
Something that wasn't supposed to exist.
Something unnatural.
My fingers twitched against the sheets. Small. Almost unnoticeable.
But Reilan noticed.
His eyes flicked toward my hands, tracking the movement—not wary, not cautious. Just watching.
And that was the difference, wasn't it?
He wasn't scared of me.
I exhaled sharply, shifting my gaze away.
"You're annoyingly good at that."
"Good at what?"
I shot him a look. "Saying the right thing."
Reilan smirked slightly. "I know."
I clicked my tongue, but the tension in my shoulders eased slightly.
"…Thanks."
He didn't respond immediately, but his smirk faded into something softer.
Then—
A knock.
Both of us turned just as the door cracked open, revealing a familiar figure.
A house attendant. One of my mother's.
She hesitated, her gaze flickering between me and Reilan before dipping into a short bow.
"Lady Chiori," she addressed me carefully, "Lord Satoshi has returned."
My pulse spiked.
I barely registered Reilan's gaze shifting toward me, sharp and unreadable.
The attendant continued, her tone neutral. "He is in his study. The Lady has requested that he not be disturbed."
A pause.
A test.
She was delivering the message, but she was watching me.
Waiting to see if I would listen.
I clenched my fists against the sheets.
Mom didn't want me to go.
That much was clear.
But she hadn't told me outright.
Which meant it was still my choice.