Lesser magic is convenient, simple magic. Children can do it from an early age, but it takes decades for elves to manifest magical ability in the first place. Why is that? We have no idea.
Although lesser magic takes less skill and ability, it does require a generous amount of understanding.
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Fatigue had overtaken the Chosen One. She stumbled over to the couch and collapsed. She stared at the ceiling, the chandelier, the bookshelves.
This is way more than I deserve.
This was a wildly unexpected kindness for Gwyn, but a very welcome one. She held the vial around her neck and twisted the ring around her finger occasionally.
She then thought about Artero, his toned and muscular body, and how his sweat-soaked hair made him look and smell somehow better.
Why is he hiding that gorgeous body from everyone else? What are you all about, Artero?
She wondered endlessly to herself as she stared at the chandelier above her. It swayed softly, adorned in its red rubies.
The image of his strong arms wrapped around her made her wish he were here. Gwyn sighed.
He must have many obligations as a prince to a lord.
Gwyn then wondered why he was considered a prince if his father wasn't a king.
How much did he put aside just for me? All for what? Just to watch me snap my fingers all day? What is he getting out of this?
She softly laughed at how pathetic she was.
Her rumbling stomach made her take action. The thin veil of dust that coated everything had disappeared. She walked into the kitchen, and Mordecai was on the counter. When she noticed Gwyn, she let out a soft meow as a greeting.
"Hello, Mordecai! What are you doing here?"
Mordecai didn't answer as they pushed their head into Gwyn's hand, demanding to be pet.
"You are such a silly little cat."
Gwyn stopped petting Mordecai, to the tethercat's dismay.
Is there anything to eat around here? I thought there was supposed to be a servant and a chef?
Gwyn walked to the freezer, but then there was a knock at the door.
She checked outside from the window's curtain, to her dissapoint, it wasn't Artero.
She creaked the door open.
"Hello Rodrick, letting me know you are going to be outside?"
He pointed to a chest behind him.
"Actually, I am here to drop off all of these."
Gwyn craned her neck to see the chest.
"What's in them?"
"Clothing from the Young Master, Artero."
"Oh," the word escaped her lips.
He did say something about my need for better clothing.
"Well, bring them in! I was about to find some food."
Rodrick gave her a surprised look and then stepped into the dwelling. He inspected everything as though he had never seen a house before.
"Is everything alright?"
Gwyn felt a bit of concern grow.
The chest he carried shook the house as he slammed it on the ground.
"Nothing's wrong… just... This place brings back memories."
"What kind of memories?"
"The good kind, madam." His lips slightly curled as he stared through the raised visor. But then he quickly shut it, and his voice was somewhat muffled again. "Well, if you need anything, madam, I'll—"
"Now just wait one moment." She approached him and raised his visor manually, pointing a scolding finger at his face. "You are supposed to serve me. And I say you remain here until I figure out what I want to eat."
"I don't know if I have that kind of time, madam."
Gwyn scoffed.
"Wow, did you just… call me indecisive?"
"You did say I look like a sleep with a teddy bear, which is a more insulting insult, if we are ranking them."
"But you did admit to—"
He held up a hand.
"We do not like labels here. Even if they are accurate when it comes to suspiciously bear-shaped items, madam."
Gwyn shrugged.
"Oh, whatever. Just help me, please? I don't want to be alone right now."
He stammered a response; the words caught in his throat.
"Y-Yes, madam."
"Good."
She dragged him to the kitchen, and Mordecai was nowhere to be seen.
That cat is always disappearing on me.
Gwyn shrugged it off and then walked to the food storage freezer. The shelves were filled with a variety of different meals.
"Rodrick, come here for a moment."
She poked her head out of the freezer. The temperature change fogged her glasses.
"Yes?"
"What should we eat?"
Rodrick peeked his head in and looked up and down.
"Peach pie?"
"Um," Gwyn looked up and down at the shelves. A pie was clearly in view. She stood in front of it. "Anything else you'd like to eat?"
He placed a hand under his chin, then said.
"Maybe a nice soup?"
Finally, a real suggestion.
"That sounds nice." She looked all around until she found a large pot. "Rodrick!"
He stood at attention.
"Can you carry this pot for me, please?"
He gave her a nod and crammed himself into the small freezer. Gwyn was smushed up against the wall, and several dishes fell to the floor.
Rodrick pushed his way past her.
"Someone will clean that up for us."
"Thanks…" Gwyn removed herself from the freezer and cleaned her glasses. "How do we heat it up?"
"Magic or an oven, whichever you prefer, madam."
He pointed to the brick oven in the kitchen corner.
"Perfect, I've been learning lesser magic all day."
"Have you now?"
Rodrick was intrigued. He had heard the new Chosen One was an incompetent caster.
"Yes! I would say I've made some noticeable progress, if I do say so myself."
She snapped her fingers. Sparks appeared, but still no flame.
He let her down gently.
"Wow, madam. But I don't think that snap will heat our food."
Gwyn's face expressed a hint of contentment.
"You're right. Can you show me how it's done?"
He nodded, picked up the metal pot and placed it in the oven. He unsheathed his sword, then pointed it at the pot and yelled mightily.
"Heat this pot,
without a second thought!"
The metal on his sword became white hot as flames spewed from its tip, curling within the oven until it remained lit without the use of magic.
"Wow, you did that so… easily."
Gwyn was beginning to feel a little discouraged.
"Fire magic is the easiest magic to do. It's the other types of magic you should be more impressed by." Rodrick noticed Gwyn was suddenly downtrodden. "Don't make that face, madam. I've had hundreds of years of practice on you. Didn't you start like a week ago?"
"Four days, well… technically just today."
"Exactly, so don't be so hard on yourself, madam. You will be casting like the rest of us in no time."
I hope you're right.
Gwyn stared at her hands, then the oven's flames. A hint of envy began to swim through her mind, but she buried it.
If I can't cast flame magic by tomorrow, I'll...
After several minutes, they took the pot out of the oven, and Rodrick served up the soup in a bowl.
It was a potato stew with lean chunks of meat. The broth was thicker than water on inspection. Gwyn sipped the broth. It was oversalted and peppery. The potatoes were slightly buttery, while the meat was soaked through, tasting like the broth, just with a different texture. It wasn't the most enjoyable meal, but it would suffice.
She looked towards Rodrick and had a sneaking suspicion he wished it were peach pie. He slowly sipped the broth from the spoon, spinning its contents in a circle.
He probably isn't hungry.
She faked a smile.
"You don't have to eat if you don't want to... I was just—"
"It's not that, it's…"
His sentence stopped in its tracks, a sad look from within the armor.
"It's what?"
"I… haven't had a meal with someone in a long time. I hadn't noticed earlier, in the gardens. But that's the first time in a long time I've had a conversation that wasn't about war or the King of Terror. Between my assignments and the protection of Lord Talos." He paused. "It felt nice to do something that didn't feel like business."
"Well, you can always have a meal with me." She gently placed her hand on his armor. It was cold to the touch. "And not for business. I'll see if we can stock up the freezer with peach pies!"
Rodrick lowered his visor, and Gwyn suspiciously heard sniffling from within.
"Guess I'll be outside now. I have to protect you and all. Madam."
Gwyn gave a sympathetic look.
"If you say so…" She looked out the window. Night was already here. "You can remain inside, if you wish."
"My duty is to protect you from those who wish to get in. I can't prevent them from doing so, if I am already inside…" he paused. "Madam."
Without another word, he left the kitchen, but before he exited the building, Gwyn shouted for him.
"Goodnight, Rodrick."
But he didn't respond, and the front door closed after him, and Gwyn was alone.
She finished her meal by herself. She looked towards the door and noticed her cloak hanging up; he must have brought it back to her.
Thanks, Rodrick.
She must've forgotten it in the training field. Gwyn kept looking at her hands and snapping her fingers as she paced around the house. The thought of being so close to casting magic, for real, made the idea of sleep an impossibility.
She just wished she were like those at the Meeting of the Chosen. The magic they used was no cheap party trick; they were otherworldly in their ability.
Gwyn eventually found herself in the master bedroom. A faint scratching noise startled her.
"Hello?"
Gwyn asked the empty room, but received no response.
A shadow stretched against the wall. Her head whipped to the window, and Mordecai was standing outside. Their shadow cast a mockery of their image on the wall.
Gwyn approached the window.
"Oh, thank God. Hello Mordecai—"
It wasn't Mordecai, it was a different three-eyed cat. Its fur was all white with red stains around its ears. The moment she opened the window, the tethercat leapt inside and onto the bed.
Without warning, the cat became disfigured, growing much larger. It's white fur brushing away like a dandelion in a breeze. Then, it turned to dust. Beneath the fur, the skin was wrinkled and pale. The head is grotesquely stretched to reshape, becoming ten times larger. It writhed as its bones stretched to double, then triple in size.
Gwyn stared in horror as this adorable tethercat silently morphed into a different creature. She thought to scream, but suddenly the limbs became familiar, pink hair fell from where the head was, and Elise was on the bed, as Gwyn had known her.
"Gods." She cracked her neck. "That feels like shit. No wonder people don't morph into animals." Elise gave the Chosen One a weak smile. "Hello, Gwynevere."