Chapter 23 Liria
Since the crack of dawn, Damian and Silveryn had departed to some unknown destination.
Liria also woke up early, ready to head out.
The villagers had taken care of her grandmother’s funeral services. Therefore, Liria was planning to visit the village that day.
She had to stop by her grandmother’s grave and pack her belongings from their home.
She quickly became friends with Maid Nana, almost to the extent of calling each other sisters. Although Liria decided to work as a maid in the estate, Nana still tended to her as if she were a guest.
Maid Nana helped her dress and brushed her hair.
After her return from the village, she would officially start her duties as a maid.
Liria was still intimidated by Silveryn.
When she confided her feelings, Nana reassured her that as long as she fulfilled her duties diligently, there shouldn’t be any problems.
Liria’s first impression of Damian was that he seemed a bit blunt but not necessarily in a bad way.
When she inquired about Damian to Nana, the maid’s hands stopped brushing in mid-motion.
After a moment of thought, Nana said,
“At first glance, I didn’t notice, but the more you see, the more you realize he’s quite an impressive figure.”
The more questions Liria asked about Damian, the more eagerly Nana spilled out stories about him. Damian’s personality, his appearance when he first started training, and even stories about him carrying her. It was as though she had been waiting for someone to ask.
Having heard all this, Liria felt reassured that Damian was definitely not a strange person.
After she was ready, Liria asked Nana if she could accompany her to the village, but Nana declined, saying she had to deliver lunch to the training grounds.
Early in the morning, Liria took a carriage to the village.
When she inquired about her grandmother’s grave to a neighbor who was fond of her, the woman shook her head and handed her a small urn.
“After the ghouls appeared, we no longer do burials.”
The villager explained that they were in the process of exhuming and cremating tombs, and while it’s heartbreaking, she offered what consolation she could to Liria.
In her old home, Liria gathered her study books, clothes, and her grandmother’s recipes, then boarded the carriage back to Silveryn’s estate.
She left the rest of her grandmother’s belongings in the house.
On the carriage ride back, Liria clung tightly to her grandmother’s urn.
Her eyes were red throughout the journey, but as she alighted from the carriage upon her arrival at the estate, she regained her firm demeanor.
By the time she returned to the estate, the sun had set.
The estate’s maids were busy preparing dinner.
Liria, too, hurried to put her luggage away in order to help out.
Her duty was to prepare the potions that Damian would drink.
Going to the laboratory, she saw a large iron pot of boiling water, and next to it a maid about to indiscriminately dump in a bunch of herbs.
Liria rushed over in shock and stopped her.
“I’ll take it from here.”
A potion hastily concocted without following the proper order would result in an unspeakably horrible taste.
Liria accepted the herbs and laid them out on the table.
Dozens of herbs, each precious enough that one could equate their value to a month’s worth of Liria’s food.
“Is Lord Damian supposed to drink this every few weeks?”
“He needs it every day.”
Upon hearing the reply, Liria briefly faced an existential crisis but soon composed herself.
She carried the carefully brewed potion according to the recipe to Damian’s room.
After gulping down the potion, Damian mused with a peculiar expression.
“It feels different somehow, doesn’t it?”
“Nothing’s missing. I just brewed it slowly according to the recipe. How does it taste?”
Damian looked at Liria with wide eyes before responding in a brighter tone.
“It’s much better. I hope you’ll keep this up.”
“Yes!”
Liria beamed and bowed her head slightly.
She felt pleased, having fulfilled her role for the first time.
As night fell, she started potion production in earnest with Damian in the laboratory.
Damian only asked Liria questions about things he didn’t know, relying on her for assistance, but attempted to handle most of the work himself.
It was comfortable for Liria. Damian had a strong desire to learn and did not forget easily what he was taught.
However, his recklessness was notably worrisome.
He would sometimes drink raw mixtures without asking and then dash out to vomit. Such behavior was beyond Liria’s imagination.
Moreover, his concoctions were completely haphazard. In alchemy, there are particular ingredient combinations akin to a formula, but he tried bizarre mixtures that blatantly ignored these.
Holding back as long as she could, Liria eventually pointed out that his method was just a waste of herbs. Damian simply replied with unruffled complacency.
“I still need to do it.”
He could never tear his eyes away from the notebook. No matter how curious she was, he never showed it to her.
A week went by, and Liria gradually adapted to life on the estate.
Every day, Damian and Silveryn left at dawn and returned in the evening, and Liria distilled potions with Damian at night.
Damian was reserved and focused solely on his work, so they had not grown much closer.
As evening approached, the air turned chilly. When Liria attempted to light a fire in the kitchen’s fireplace, the maids halted her with alarm.
“You’re not supposed to light fires in the postal receiver.”
The estate was full of sometimes incomprehensible rules. Why was the fireplace a postal receiver?
When Liria stood quietly and observed, a winged orb indeed flew in, casting a letter into the fireplace before vanishing.
Liria picked up the newly arrived letter.
She ran to ask Nana about it, who, upon verifying the Eternia seal, told her to deliver it to Silveryn.
Still intimidated by Silveryn but compelled by the importance of the message and knowing someone had to deliver it, Liria bravely knocked on Silveryn’s door.
“Come in.”
She approached Silveryn, offering the letter respectfully with both hands. Silveryn tore it open to read and then motioned her away with a gesture.
As Liria turned to leave, Silveryn suddenly called her back.
Not having grown any less apprehensive about Silveryn’s every utterance, Liria trembled as she fetched Damian and brought him to Silveryn’s room.
They began a conversation with serious expressions.
Liria nervously lingered, missing her chance to exit, but fortunately, neither seemed to take any notice of her.
“They’re here in Weisel now. There’s not much time left.”
“Yes.”
“And there will be a special guest coming.”
Liria was so flustered she could barely follow their conversation.
Words sailed over her head with meanings unfathomable.
Masters class, examiners, magical engineers, wooden dolls?
That night in the laboratory, Damian absently worked on potion production, murmuring the term ‘magical engineer’ several times before suddenly asking Liria.
“Do you know how to make sweet snacks?”
Liria nodded vigorously.
“Yes! My grandmother’s recipes include candy.”
Damian seemed to ask without much expectation.
“Could you make some for me?”
Liria’s grandmother, when she became too frail to gather herbs, used alchemy to produce special candies that she sold.
These candies had become a specialty of Weisel and were a source of pride for Liria.
Without delay, she went to retrieve her grandmother’s recipe book from her room and gathered a bunch of flowers from the herb storehouse.
An hour or so of crafting later, Liria handed Damian the finished candy.
Inside the transparent spherical candy, no bigger than a bite, was a single flower petal.
Damian popped the candy into his mouth and savored it silently. Liria, having made some, placed one in her own mouth as well.
A subtle sweetness spread on the tongue, complemented by the fresh scent of flowers rising to the nose.
It was a nostalgic taste that I had briefly forgotten.
After a moment, Damian remarked,
“Your grandmother was a genius.”
Liria felt a sense of recognition, as if the compliment was directed at her, and her mood brightened.
“That’s right. My grandmother was a real genius…”
Suddenly, Liria covered her face with both hands.
Thoughts of her grandmother surfaced unexpectedly, and tears began to form unbidden.
“I’m being foolish again, I’m so sorry… so, so sorry…”
She hadn’t wanted to cry in front of Damian. She feared he would find her bothersome.
More at a loss than Liria was Damian himself.
Sweating, he tried to comfort her.
Strangely enough, the more he tried to console her, the more tears flowed.
He managed to calm her down a bit and sat her in a chair before saying,
“Just wait here a moment.”
Damian left the laboratory, and soon returned with a piece of dark metal and a box of tools.
“Stretch out your finger.”
He wrapped a long strip of paper around Liria’s right ring finger to measure its circumference and then cut the metal accordingly.
“What was your grandmother’s name?”
As Liria told him her grandmother’s name, he began to hammer away.
He heated the metal in the fire, bent it into a circle, and the hammering continued for about thirty minutes.
Finishing his work, Damian prompted,
“Hold out your hand.”
He placed the completed item on Liria’s palm.
It was a ring. Liria examined it with a look of amazement.
It was entirely black, but as she turned it, sometimes a faint red hue glimmered through. There were no special adornments or patterns, but even in its smooth, simple state, it had an air of antique elegance.
The initials of her grandmother were etched on the inside of the ring, where it would touch the finger. When brought close to the candlelight, only the initials sparkled in red.
“Wow…”
“How is it?”
“It’s really amazing.”
“It’s made of meteorite iron.”
“Meteorite… what’s that?”
“A piece of a star.”
A piece of a star. Even without much knowledge about metals, the name alone embodied something special.
Watching Liria straighten out her furrowed brow to look at the ring with delight, Damian asked,
“Liria, may I use your grandmother’s candy recipe?”
Proudly, she nodded again.
“Go ahead and use it. My grandmother never cared about that stuff.”
Her grandmother had spent her life sharing her researched recipes generously with the world. Although it meant living in poverty, Liria had never once resented her grandmother.
She slipped the ring onto her right ring finger.
Liria was very much taken with the ring.
Soon after, they resumed potion making as if nothing had happened.
As she worked, Liria would occasionally stretch out her right hand and look at the ring, smiling contentedly.
***
Two days had passed since then. To Liria, everything seemed to be flowing without issue.
However, that night in the laboratory, Damian was slumped over with his head down, hands covering his head in torment.
Surrounded by various concoctions, he had stopped the rest of his work.
From an overheard conversation, it was apparent that he was facing some significant examination.
How crucial must this test be for someone who rarely showed his emotions to be displaying such distress?
A bewildered Liria approached Damian and asked,
“What’s wrong?”
“The examination is tomorrow… and it still hasn’t arrived.”
“What hasn’t?”
He maintained his silence for a while before finally speaking.
“The last ingredient…”
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