Chapter 71 – Excellence Camp – Duel Hall XI

Ashern City, 22nd of Brightforge, year 315 UC

Bryan stared at Alessia, the name "Emilia Valentine" echoing in his mind. He wouldn't be on this path without Gloria visiting him that night, questioning his identity, planting seeds of doubt. He wouldn't be questioning who Emilia Valentine was either.

"We should go somewhere else."

Alessia suggested.

Bryan nodded. Being in the duel hall with so many people would only be a distraction. His team would be searching for him, wondering what he was doing with Alessia Hayes of all people. He needed to be focused for this conversation.

They didn't go far, just to a restaurant down the road from the duel hall. The establishment was moderately busy with festival-goers, but the outdoor seating area offered some privacy. They sat at an open table under a large umbrella, its fabric casting dappled shade across the wooden surface. Neither spoke immediately.

Alessia had a strange grin on her face that Bryan wasn't used to seeing. Her usual haughty demeanor had shifted to something more... satisfied. Like a cat that had caught its prey.

She opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by a waiter—an older woman in her mid-thirties with her hair in a tight bun. She approached with two menus in hand, her smile never reaching her tired eyes.

"Welcome to Silvermoon. Can I get you started with some refreshments?"

Bryan didn't take the menu, but Alessia did, her gloved fingers flipping through the pages. Bryan just wanted the woman to go away.

"I'll have a strawberry cheesecake."

Alessia said, closing the menu and handing it back.

"Just water for me."

Bryan added, not bothering to look at the waiter.

"I'll have that out to you soon. Take your time."

The woman said before disappearing back into the restaurant.

Bryan waited until she was out of earshot before leaning forward, his elbows resting on the table.

"What did you find?"

Alessia tilted her head, her auburn hair catching the sunlight filtering through the umbrella.

"I don't even know where to begin."

She said, studying him with unusual intensity.

"Why did you want this information again?"

Bryan's jaw tightened.

"I thought I told you no questions."

"You did."

Alessia conceded, tapping her gloved fingers against the table.

"Never mind."

She straightened in her seat.

"Emilia Valentine is a lesser noble, married to Lucas Valentine."

Bryan remained silent, waiting for more.

"Lucas is a researcher, with his specialty being history."

Alessia continued.

"Which is weird since he did something... unexpected."

Bryan raised an eyebrow at that.

"What does he have to do with Emilia?"

"Not much."

Alessia replied.

"But I just find it interesting, is all."

She leaned forward slightly, her voice dropping to ensure only Bryan could hear.

"Do you recall the M.A.G.I.C. orb they used at the academy to see what our stats were?"

Bryan nodded, his hand unconsciously moving to touch the black ring on his finger—his M.A.G.I.C. ring that was different than the orb. It told him what his true stats were, and his last name displayed as Valentine.

"Well, Lucas made it."

Alessia said

"Which is why I'm confused and interested in him."

"Why?"

Bryan asked, his fingers tapping against the table's surface.

"Because, how could a researcher who studies history and explores ruins or sites create something that will change how mages function?"

Alessia replied.

"Because of the stats."

Bryan said flatly.

Alessia nodded.

"Because of the stats."

She repeated, satisfaction evident in her tone.

"Think about how our class schedule is divided between physical days where we do limited magical training compared to magical training on the other days and what is involved in each."

Bryan thought about the schedule, mentally reviewing the different stats shown from the M.A.G.I.C. ring and orb. The connection was obvious once you looked for it.

"The training and classes are catered to make us increase those specific stats," he concluded.

The waiter returned with his water and Alessia's strawberry cheesecake, causing them both to fall silent. The dessert was elaborate—layers of pink and white topped with fresh berries and a delicate mint leaf. Alessia waited until the waiter left before continuing.

"That's right."

She said, picking up her fork.

"And others have figured it out as well whenever they go and check how their stats have grown."

She took a small bite of the cheesecake.

"Before the device was created, military training would have been different, a lot different."

Bryan raised his eyebrow at that.

"I had plenty of other academies I could have attended."

Alessia explained.

"I looked at what the graduates went into, what was primarily taught there, but none of them had the type of intense training we do."

"Because they can't see what they should improve upon."

Bryan said.

"It's mostly just a general idea, but with the visual, we can see exactly what areas we need to work on, making us far stronger than an ordinary mage."

"Exactly."

Alessia said, pointing her fork at him.

"Now, why would a researcher who loves history make something like that?"

She set down her fork, her expression growing more serious.

"And how would he have done that without any formal training on magitech development? There is not one record of him attending any magitech development schools or courses."

Bryan thought about this for a second. He knew there were sectors in military academies that taught how to create magitech equipment, but there were also self-taught individuals. Still, they wouldn't have been able to create something like the M.A.G.I.C. orb, which if he was not mistaken was at least epic grade.

"I don't know."

Bryan admitted, his fingers curling around his untouched water glass.

"There is nothing that I could find that even mentioned him having an interest in it.]"

Alessia said, her frustration evident in the tightening of her jaw.

"What did you find?"

Bryan pressed.

"Nothing really."

Alessia sighed.

"I'm still digging into him, and reports on him have been useless at best."

"Elaborate."

Bryan demanded.

"It's nothing worth noting."

She said, waving her hand dismissively.

"Just people talking about how crazy he is, always talking to himself, going to the extreme in terms of research to solve whatever mystery he finds interesting."

"Talking to himself?"

Bryan repeated.

Alessia nodded.

"Mostly to himself, sometimes he talks to a raven."

"He must have been hit over the head or that's just how he is, but they—"

"Hold on."

Bryan interrupted, his pulse quickening.

"What kind of raven?"

Alessia's eyes narrowed.

"Are there different species that I don't know about?"

"Just describe it."

Bryan insisted, leaning forward.

"It's just a bird."

Alessia said, exasperation coloring her tone.

"Who cares?"

Bryan slammed his hand on the table, the water in his glass sloshing from the impact.

"Just tell me."

Alessia looked at his hand on the table before glancing around at the few people at other tables now looking in their direction.

"Calm down."

She hissed.

Bryan glanced around and removed his hand from the table, realizing he was letting his emotions get the better of him. The outburst was uncharacteristic of him.

"The raven was black."

Alessia said after a moment.

"I don't know the size or anything else."

"Was there anything special about it?"

Bryan pressed.

"It was just a dumb raven."

Alessia replied, her frustration evident.

"Why would anyone care about it?"

"Think."

Bryan insisted.

"Anything different about it?"

Alessia sighed deeply and went silent for two minutes, her gloved fingers tapping against the table as she thought. Finally, she crossed her arms over her chest.

"It had purple eyes."

She admitted.

"But that's not anything out of the range of possibilities when we have horses capable of scorching the ground beneath them."

Bryan went silent. Black feathers, purple eyes, and Lucas was talking to it. His head throbbed, a dull pain pulsing behind his temples. He felt like it was important, but why?

Then it hit him—Zoltan. The mouse had black fur, purple eyes, and Bryan talked to it. What if Lucas was doing the same? People thought he was crazy because he was talking to a creature that never spoke back, but they just didn't know it was replying to him in his mind.

A faint image flashed in Bryan's mind—a man whose features he couldn't quite make out, a black raven seen through what looked like the slit in a door. Then the memory faded, slipping away like water through his fingers.

"Bryan?"

Alessia called, her voice seeming distant despite her sitting across from him.

He looked up at her.

"What?"

"Your nose."

She said, offering him a napkin from the table.

Bryan took it and wiped away the blood he hadn't even felt.

"Keep going. What else did you find out?"

He said.

"Are you alright?"

Alessia asked.

Her concern was unnecessary, and he did not need her to see him like this. It would only weaken his image if anything.

"Just keep going."

Bryan insisted.

Alessia hesitated, then continued.

"I don't have anything else to say about Lucas. Everything important I already told you. But as for Emilia Valentine, I have a lot to say about her."

"And what's that?"

Bryan asked, the napkin still pressed to his nose.

"When I asked about her, no one knew who she was."

Alessia said.

"As I stated earlier, she's a lesser noble, which is pretty common."

Bryan nodded, waiting for her to continue.

"But that's not her real name."

Alessia revealed, her voice dropping slightly.

"Her name used to be Emilia Reinhart, and she is a lot more known."

Bryan's heart rate increased.

Reinhart.

It seemed that they were more connected to him somehow than he realized.

'Why would Gloria tell me about another Reinhart? What am I missing?'

Bryan wondered.

"Who is she, and what does she do?"

"That's the thing."

Alessia said, leaning back in her chair.

"No one knows what she does now, but when she was active, she was an assassin, worked in a special mage unit in the military. But after her five years of service, nothing is known about her."

"Why did she change her name?"

Bryan asked, the napkin now crumpled in his fist.

"That's pretty simple. She was disowned along with her older sister, Rashaka Reinhart."

Alessia replied.

"Who?"

Bryan asked, the name not registering.

"Rashaka."

Alessia repeated, surprise evident in her tone.

"The greatest mage the continent ever saw in the last two decades? Do you not know about her?"

"Go back to Emilia."

Bryan insisted.

"Why was she disowned?"

"To tell one story is to tell them both."

Alessia said.

"As the story is pretty public knowledge at this point with how humiliated the Reinharts were."

She took another bite of her cheesecake before continuing.

"Long story short so I don't have to tell you all the minor details, Rashaka was pregnant outside of her marriage to Ryan Scott, and Emilia, who was with her during this time, was punished alongside her sister since it should have never happened in the first place."

Bryan waved the comment away.

"I don't care about the affairs of the Reinhart's daughter."

"But they are connected."

Alessia insisted, raising a finger.

"Continue then."

Bryan said, his patience wearing thin.

"Emilia is the daughter of Octavius Reinhart."

Alessia explained.

"But she's an illegitimate child, so she isn't in line of succession, nor was she even talented enough to be 'claimed' by him. It also didn't help that Rashaka was his most loved child due to her talent."

She paused to take a sip of water.

"I'm not too privy on the exact details as to why or what, but Octavius sent Rashaka out to complete a task for him, and when she returned with her half-dead sister, it drew a lot of attention."

Bryan leaned forward, his interest piqued despite himself.

"To make matters even more interesting, Rashaka was showing signs of being pregnant a few months later, which caused an even greater commotion."

Alessia continued.

"Some guy she fell in love with."

Bryan suggested.

Alessia grinned, a knowing look in her eyes.

"No, turns out she was a virgin."

Bryan narrowed his eyes.

"That's impossible."

"It is indeed impossible."

Alessia agreed.

"But no one wants to take care of a child that is not their own, so the engagement with the Scott family was broken, and Rashaka disowned."

"Two things."

Bryan said, holding up two fingers.

"One, she could have just gotten rid of the child. There are ways. And two, why would Octavius disown the 'most' powerful mage just over one pregnancy?"

"That's a good question."

Alessia admitted.

"And one only Octavius himself would be able to answer."

"So, he disowned them both."

Bryan summarized.

"And what happened after that?"

"No one is too sure on what happened with Rashaka. But Emilia settled down, and that is the end of it."

Alessia said.

Bryan fell silent, processing what he had heard. Zoltan being with Lucas was a possibility—he felt that something was there. But the story with Emilia and Rashaka told him nothing, no reason why her name felt familiar to him.

Emilia was an illegitimate child, and Rashaka was a strong mage. She ended up pregnant, and now no one knew where she was or what she was doing, but Emilia ended up getting married.

So, what happened to the pregnancy?

"No one knows."

Bryan muttered to himself.

The child could be dead, with Rashaka, or with Emilia, he thought.

'How long ago was this?'

He couldn't help but ask himself. It seemed like the next big question.

"Are we done here?"

Alessia asked, setting down her fork on the now-empty plate.

"One more question."

Bryan said.

"What?"

Alessia asked, her hand reaching for her purse.

"How long ago was this?"

"A little over fifteen years ago, but no more than sixteen."

Alessia answered.

"Thanks."

Bryan said, rising from his chair and walking away.

"You didn't touch your water."

Alessia called after him.

"I wasn't thirsty."

Bryan replied without looking back.

He didn't return to the duel hall. Instead, he started walking the streets of Ashern City, no particular destination in mind. He observed the people he passed—merchants hawking festival goods, children wearing painted masks, couples strolling hand in hand.

His thoughts spiraled, replaying everything Alessia had told him. Lucas, Emilia, Rashaka, pregnancy, fifteen to sixteen years ago, Octavius Reinhart's disownment, what Gloria had told him. How did it all fit together? What did it mean?

As Bryan walked, he found himself at a large fountain in what appeared to be the city's central square. The structure was impressive—carved stone depicting the fifty mages who had sacrificed themselves during the monster tide. Water cascaded from their outstretched hands, collecting in the wide basin below.

Bryan stood watching the water, letting the sounds of the festival fade into the background as he focused on the rhythmic splashing. The white noise had a calming effect, allowing his mind to drift.

Suddenly, he saw a white room, a single window high up on the wall, and endless shelves row after row. A young boy sat on the floor, head resting on his knees, curled into a tight ball.

Was he the son of Emilia? They had the same last name. Then what about Veron, his father?

The boy looked up, white hair falling over his face, red eyes staring directly into Bryan's own.

"You know, don't you?"

The boy asked, his voice eerily familiar.

Bryan didn't reply, and the boy returned to his previous position, curling tighter into a ball.

A sound broke through Bryan's vision—laughter, distant yet somehow amplified. The white room vanished, along with the boy. Bryan turned, searching for the source of the laughter. It seemed louder than it should be, as if it were the only sound he could hear despite the bustling square around him.

People continued about their day—chatting, laughing, eating, children running—but the distinctive laughter came again, drawing his attention.

Bryan scanned the crowd, his eyes finally locking onto a figure in the distance—a woman with white hair in a black dress moving through the throng of festival-goers. He started toward her, drawn by an inexplicable compulsion.

She looked back in his direction, her eyes covered by a black blindfold, a playful smile on her lips. Bryan quickened his pace, but the distance between them remained unchanged. She was always too far, always just beyond reach.

She turned down a side street, and Bryan followed, his heart pounding in his chest. No one had white hair like that. No one except him.

Who was she?

When he rounded the corner, he found himself in an empty alley. The woman was gone. Bryan punched the wall in frustration, the impact sending a jolt of pain up his arm. As he pulled back, he noticed a mask on the ground, its string broken. He bent to pick it up, but a voice stopped him.

"Bryan?"

He turned to see Farrah standing at the alley entrance, concern etched across her features. She was back in her school uniform, her dark curls framing her face.

"What are you doing out here?"

He asked, his voice rougher than intended.

"Looking for you."

Farrah replied, then fell silent, her green eyes studying.

"Why?"

Bryan demanded.

"You disappeared after your match."

She explained, taking a step toward him.

"Everyone was worried. I was worried."

"I can take care of myself."

Bryan said, turning to walk out of the alley.

Farrah grabbed his hand, stopping him. Her fingers were warm against his skin.

"Now what?"

He asked, not turning to face her.

"Something's wrong."

Farrah said softly.

"What is it?"

"Nothing."

Bryan insisted.

"It's not nothing."

Farrah countered, her grip tightening slightly.

"Just leave me alone."

Bryan said, his voice rising slightly.

"Is that too much to ask?"

"Is this about Randel?"

Farrah asked, her brow furrowing.

"What?"

Bryan replied, genuinely confused.

"Why would this be about Randel?"

"Because—"

Farrah began, but Bryan's attention shifted to something on her shoulder.

A little mouse with black fur and purple eyes sat there, watching him with an unsettling intelligence.

Zoltan.

"What are you doing, Bryan's ?"

The mouse asked, its voice appearing in his head.

Bryan stared at the mouse, then his eyes moved back to Farrah, who was still talking, though he couldn't focus on her words.

"What, no words?"

Zoltan taunted.

"You can do better than that. We can do better than that."

"Why now?"

Bryan demanded.

"Where have you been?"

"What?"

Farrah asked, clearly confused by his questions.

"What are you talking about?"

"You know why."

Zoltan replied.

"No, I don't."

Bryan insisted.

He fixed his gaze on the mouse.

"Do you know Lucas?"

Zoltan snickered, his small body shaking with mirth.

"Now why would I know Lucas? Is that someone I should know of?"

"Stop playing games and just answer the question!"

Bryan shouted, his patience snapping.

Farrah grabbed Bryan's shoulders, her face filling his vision.

"Bryan, what are you doing? Who are you talking to?"

Bryan clicked his tongue in frustration and looked back at her shoulder. Zoltan was gone.

"No one."

He muttered.

"Just myself."

"No."

Farrah insisted, her grip on his shoulders tightening.

"What is going on? You can tell me."

Bryan heard the laughter again and turned his head, trying to locate the source.

Farrah grabbed his face, her palms warm against his cheeks as she forced him to look at her.

"Focus, Bryan. What is going on?"

The laughter stopped abruptly. Bryan blinked, disoriented, as people seemed to walk through the alley walls around them. Then the alley itself began to fade, dissolving like mist in the morning sun.

Bryan found himself still standing by the fountain where he'd stopped earlier. The square was filled with festival-goers, none of whom seemed to notice his distress. There was no alley, no mask, no Farrah.

'What is wrong with me?'

He thought, his body suddenly feeling weak, knees threatening to give out.

He was losing his mind. He couldn't even tell what was real and what was fake anymore. The distinction was blurring, reality slipping through his fingers like sand.

"Bryan?"

Farrah's voice came from behind him.

"What's wrong?"

He turned to find her actually standing there, her green eyes wide with worry. This time, she was real—he could feel the slight breeze stirring her curls, see the pulse beating in her throat.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Bryan felt a tear slide down his cheek.

"Hey, it's alright."

Farrah said softly, pulling him closer to her. Her arms wrapped around him, solid and warm and real.

"It's alright. I'm here."

Bryan's voice was barely a whisper.

"What is going on with me?"