Chapter 24:

An Inventory of Souls

The Cursed Extra

Until you make the unconscious conscious, it will direct your life and you will call it fate.

— Carl Jung

———

The carriage ride back to the Leone estate felt different with infinite Authority coursing through my veins. Every bump in the road, every creak of the wheels seemed sharper somehow, as if the world had gained an extra dimension I'd never noticed before. The [Narrative Appraisal] overlay flickered at the edges of my vision, ready to dissect anyone who crossed my path.

Father sat across from me, his weathered hands folded over his walking stick. Lady Vivienne occupied the window seat, her emerald dress catching the afternoon light as she gazed at the passing countryside with studied disinterest. Lucius lounged beside her, still basking in the social triumph of my public failure.

Time to test the new toys.

I focused my attention on Father first, letting the appraisal wash over him like invisible fingers probing for secrets.

[Lord Aldric Leone] - [Noble Administrator] - Level 15 - Role: [Declining Patriarch] - Authority: 8

The information came through clearly, but something felt... muted. Like looking through frosted glass. His skills appeared as vague outlines rather than clear definitions. [Estate Management], [Political Maneuvering], something that might have been [Asset Liquidation]. The details remained frustratingly opaque.

Interesting. There seems to be a level threshold. He's fourteen levels above me, so the System—even my broken version—can't penetrate everything. Good to know I'm not completely omniscient. That could have made things boring.

I shifted my focus to Lucius, who was examining his fingernails with the same bored expression I'd worn at the ceremony.

[Lucius Leone] - [Tactician] - Level 3 - Role: [Ambitious Rival] - Authority: 4

This reading came through crystal clear. [Strategic Planning], [Social Manipulation], [Resource Management], [Battlefield Coordination]. A respectable skill set for someone destined to challenge Father for control of the family. The golden threads I'd seen in the cathedral made more sense now—he was already building the political network he'd need for his eventual coup.

Level three. Just high enough to be dangerous, just low enough for me to read like an open book. Perfect.

Lady Vivienne proved equally transparent.

[Lady Vivienne Leone] - [Social Manipulator] - Level 2 - Role: [Scheming Stepmother] - Authority: 3

Her skills painted a picture of calculated ambition wrapped in silk and perfume. [Court Etiquette], [Information Gathering], [Alliance Building], [Poison Resistance]. That last one made me pause. Either she was paranoid about assassination attempts, or she'd made enough enemies to warrant practical concerns.

Poison resistance. Now there's a woman who understands the realities of noble politics. I'll have to remember that for future reference.

The carriage pulled through the estate gates, and I caught sight of servants going about their evening duties. A stable boy leading horses to water, maids hanging laundry in the courtyard, guards making their rounds. Each one appeared in my enhanced vision with their own small story.

[Thomas Hartwell] - [Ambitious Servant] - Level 1 - Role: [Useful Tool] - Authority: 1

Still level one, but his role had shifted since the Grundy incident. No longer just background scenery—he'd proven himself capable of action when properly motivated. The threads of fate around him had grown thicker, more complex. Someone worth keeping an eye on.

We dismounted at the main entrance, and Father immediately disappeared into his study with a stack of correspondence. Lady Vivienne glided toward the drawing room, no doubt planning her next social maneuver. Lucius lingered in the foyer, his sharp eyes following my movements as I headed for the stairs.

"Feeling better about yourself, brother?" His voice carried that familiar note of condescension, but underneath it lurked something new. Uncertainty, perhaps. "A Chronicler. How wonderfully... academic."

I let my shoulders slump, maintaining the facade of disappointment. "At least I awakened to something. That's more than some can say."

"Indeed." He stepped closer, close enough that I could see the calculating intelligence behind his brown eyes. "Though I must admit, there was a moment during the ceremony when you looked almost... different. More focused than usual."

He noticed. Dammit. He actually saw something was off. I underestimated him. A dangerous mistake. I need to be more careful.

"Different how?" I made my voice smaller, more uncertain.

"Like you actually knew what you were doing." His smile was razor-thin. "But that's impossible, isn't it? You've never known what you were doing."

I forced a laugh that sounded hollow even to my own ears. "You're right. I was probably just trying not to embarrass the family more than I already have."

"Probably." But his eyes remained thoughtful as I climbed the stairs to my chambers.

The rest of the evening passed in careful normalcy. Dinner was its usual exercise in polite hostility, with Father discussing estate business while Lady Vivienne offered strategic commentary and Lucius demonstrated his growing competence in matters of politics and finance. I played my part as the disappointing third son, contributing little more than requests to pass the salt.

But underneath the performance, I was cataloging everything. Every gesture, every word, every subtle shift in family dynamics. The [Narrative Appraisal] had given me a new lens through which to view the world, and I intended to use it.

As the grandfather clock chimed eleven, I retired to my chambers and settled in to wait. Lyra would come—she always did—but tonight's conversation would be different. Tonight, I had answers to questions she didn't even know she should be asking.

The soft scrape of fingernails against glass announced her arrival. I opened the window, and she slipped inside with the practiced ease of someone who'd made this journey dozens of times. Her dark hair was pulled back in a simple braid, and her red eyes gleamed with curiosity in the candlelight.

"Master." She knelt beside my chair, but I could see the questions burning behind her composed expression. "How did the ceremony proceed?"

"Better than expected." I reached for her chin, tilting her face toward the light. "But before we discuss that, I want to try something new."

I activated [Narrative Appraisal] and focused on the woman kneeling before me.

[Lyra Ashford] - [Devoted Assassin] - Level 1 - Role: [Fanatical Servant] - Authority: 2

Skills: [Silent Step], [Poison Craft], [Information Gathering], [Blade Work], [Absolute Loyalty], [Fire Affinity (Dormant)]

Well, well. Look what we have here.

"Lyra." My voice carried a note of genuine admiration that made her eyes widen. "You've been holding out on me."

"Master?"

"Level two. [Devoted Assassin]. Skills in poison craft and blade work that you've never mentioned." I traced the line of her jaw with one finger, feeling her shiver under the touch. "And a dormant fire affinity that could prove quite useful if properly awakened."

She stared at me for a long moment, her breathing shallow. "How could you possibly know that? The System readings are private unless—" Her eyes widened as understanding dawned. "What happened at the ceremony?"

"Something wonderful." I stood and moved to my desk, where two pieces of parchment lay side by side. "Would you like to see?"

I handed her the first document—my official academy registration showing the pathetic [Chronicler] class with stats that barely qualified as mediocre.

Name: Kaelen Leone

Level: 1

Class: [Chronicler]

Authority: 2

Strength: D-210

Dexterity: D-200

Agility: F-170

Endurance: F-138

Magic: F-9

Skills:

[Lion’s Fist]

[Basic Sword Arts]