Chapter 2: Chapter. 02 Tangled in the puppeteer’s threads

The time flew by. She could have sworn it was only yesterday when the men in suits knocked on her door and told her her parents had died. Dead apostles were the cause. Honestly, she felt nothing. Her parents did not attemptempt to bond with her and made her train every day. Her stay in the clock tower left her no time to think about such things anyway. She focused entirely on her studies, gathering knowledge and improving the use of her magic. Unfortunately, she had few friends because she did not belong to a noble or highly respected family. So who would team up with a nobody?

The vacations would soon be upon us, and it would be time to travel home. Her estate was in Denmark. A big house in a small village. They ran many small research projects, but her parents' projects will fly straight out of the window.

Some would call it waste or call her an idiot, but she didn't give a damn. She had no idea what the point of the projects was in the first place. What was the point of entering fields that weren't even in the family crest?

Sure, it could be an advantage to learn several magic fields, but starting this at the expense of deepening the family magic was just stupid in her eyes. Her last lecture ended, and Kayneth left the lecture hall in a hurry. Where was he going that he needed to hurry so much? The rest of the students grabbed their bags and left the building in small groups or alone.

She was not surprised when suddenly a young man stood in front of her. He scratched his chin and looked down at her.

"Would you like to meet with me, Laila? There is a new movie in the theater, and I thought we could watch it together. Only if you want to, of course." He stood straight and looked her directly in the eyes.

"I don't know; my flight is tomorrow morning, and I still have to pack Ethan." Her cheeks began to glow. She hated talking to other people even when she knew them, probably because she had never learned how to socialize from her parents. She didn't even have an idea of how an ordinary family lived.

"How about after the vacation?" she asked cautiously, avoiding eye contact. "Mhh, Alright. I'll see you tomorrow then." Without even waiting for a response, he turned and left the premises.

Surprised, she looked around. All the students had already left the lecture hall, so why was he presenting himself so proudly?

She hung her head as she strolled down the hall. Her room was far away. She didn't like wandering in the masses of people at all. Who knows who might accost her? She would prefer to spend time in her room to continue working on her projects. Most of them didn't even give her a glance, which made her quite happy, because she didn't have to deal with them.

Her head warmed up when she thought about her encounter with the boy. On the outside, he seemed very cold and proud, but he was not a bad person. She met with him more often. After all, they were engaged. Her family had debts that the Taylor family paid for. How exactly it was, she didn't know. Ethan was the third son and had above-average talent. However, he was not the family's heir.

She sighed. Marriage was a ruff subject in the mage association. After all, the child should be born with many high-quality circles of magic.

"Ahh?!" 

Suddenly, a sharp pain throbbed on the back of her left hand, making her squeal. She glowed with humiliation as the other students turned to look at her. Keeping her eyes on the floor, she ran down the hall. She brushed against a couple of students in her haste. Books fell to the floor and shouted indignantly after her.

"Why does my hand hurt so much?"

Her hair was all shaggy when she finally arrived at her room. She shut the door, threw her bag on the bed, and fell kneeling on the floor. Everything would be fine; no one had seen her. What was she thinking? Everyone had noticed her. She took a deep breath and exhaled. First, she had to examine the situation.

Carefully, she took her right hand away from the throbbing pain. She could hardly believe her eyes when a black tattoo crystallized. She pinched her cheek to make sure she hadn't overslept.

Two guns were in a circle. She could also see small letters on the side. It did look like a clock.

Her body was wrapped in ice. It could not be. She rubbed her eyes. Still there. There was no question; she was participating in the Holy Grail War. She wasn't sure how long she sat on the floor, but the next time she looked at her watch, it was already 5:00 pm.

"That late already?" "I still have to pack my bags!"

She eagerly gathered clothes and tools. What would she do now? She had read plenty about the three previous wars; what could she do? She had almost no friends with whom she could spend her time. Ethan was probably fine, but she had to keep it a secret at all costs. She couldn't get one thought out of her head; why her? She lacked even the catalyst to summon a heroic spirit. Maybe she should just go into hiding and wait until the wars are over. Would that work?

It had to work. Denmark would be far enough away from Japan that no one would seek her out. She would do what she always did and keep working on her projects. After all, she was almost finished with the project.

Last but not least, she packed research papers, pens, and blank paper into her backpack. She could use the time of the flight to improve her artistic eye.

One last time, she saw the sparkling sunset and felt the gentle breeze on her skin. Tomorrow, she would be on the plane and on her way home. She had to bring the house up to code and hope there was no mold.

 

The suitcase rolled behind her, and her hair danced in the wind. The flight went well, and Ethan delivered her on time. She arrived in Denmark and walked the last kilometers with her suitcase. Sports would also do her good. Her left hand was tingling. She had used extra makeup to disguise the spells. Trouble could arise if it became known that she had them.

Her stiff legs crunched under the gravel as she turned off the road into her driveway.

"Home at last."

She opened the old door, whose hinges were already running out of oil, and entered the house. But it was not the kind of emptiness she knew. Her parents were dead, not gone away to another country.

Maybe she imagined too much. Memories of her childhood haunted the flickering lights. It didn't feel like home. It was like her parents were still scratching her soul in disappointment. She had never been able to please them, could never meet their requirements. A tear rolled down her cheek every time she wandered the streets and watched happy children play. Why couldn't her childhood be like this? Why did she have to pull out her nails to learn magic? It wasn't fair!

In the meantime, she felt nothing. Back then, a life without magic would have been her dream, but now she didn't care. Dulled by the methods and demands, she had never learned to love.

She threw the suitcase into the room before wandering down to the basement to turn on the electricity and gas. Several weapons hung in the hallway. It was her father's collection. Everything from swords to rifles was there. Now that he was gone, they would eventually crumble away.

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With a loud hum, the generator came on. It was old and rusted; she'd have to get a new one soon.

The rest of the day flew by. After putting away her clothes and belongings, she retreated to her workshop. She would spend the next few weeks isolated anyway. At most, shopping would have to be done. Her hand was bandaged as if she had broken a bone.

However, she could not shake off the feeling that something was watching. Something ancient and possibly not of this world, what it was, she could not say. Her hair stood up every time the fog of death brushed over her skin. But she had no proof, only the feeling that haunted her from time to time.

At first, she thought it was just her imagination, a shock that her parents had climbed the stairs to Akasha. They finally released her from the shackles of her duty. But that did not suit her. She spent most of her time by herself, so she had to know. She hadn't even batted an eyelash when she was given the news, so why now? Why should her body feel emotions now that they have long disappeared into the fog of gray?

Maybe her parents really float around between the walls, haunting her. Was such a thing even possible?

Again, her hair bristled like a cat's. But no security measures were activated. Maybe her parents were looking for her at home, playing games with the being they called their daughter.

"Damned!" she screamed, thundering her fan she was working on onto the table. "I can't concentrate like this!"

The worries about the command spells on the back of her hand were probably getting to her, and she just needed a break. She made her way to the bedroom. The stairs creaked with every step, which didn't help calm her down. Strolling into the bedroom, she checked the security systems one last time.

Nothing.

She still had goosebumps, but her gut told her that everything would be fine and that no hands would wrap around her neck as she slept. 'Maybe it was just the frost,' she thought. The heater was spinning rum. She would have to find a replacement quickly.

She felt relaxed, slightly surprised at how easily she slipped under the cover. Her feet stroked the soft sheets. Her worries did not conflict with her need to sleep. She closed her eyes and let the dark embrace her.

Runes and sign circles flashed in front of her eyes. She felt something, even though she was asleep. Losing track of time, she followed the path that opened before her. With each meter, the white mist revealed more knowledge and more plans. The writings became more and more complex. Until she finally no longer understood a word.

Did someone want to teach her? Even the oldest books in the library did not come close to capturing the complexity of these characters.

The view wandered through the veiled landscape, dipped in white swaths. Something was strange; the fog seemed to guide her like a person, yet it kept things from her. Just as she was about to step back to escape the feeling of powerlessness, she saw the outline of a white robe. Hair followed the being like a veil, and she felt a hand on her shoulder.

She started writing the runes on the ground, which appeared to be beyond the comprehension of mortals. She could not think straight; it just felt right for her to write and burn it into her soul to understand. Screams snaked out of her head, but a hand, as cold and pale as pure souls, guided her, helping her to understand the complex knowledge.

With each completed part, the fog revealed new knowledge to her and obscured others. The burning sensation faded, only to be replaced by another, much more agonizing pain.

It became unbearable, and she knew it was wrong, but threads of fate tied themselves around her body, forcing her joints to move. She heard her own voice. What was going on?

Everything came to an end when a giant circle was written in front of her. The black glow was like the void that swallowed everything. But she had her freedom again, and for the first time, she could see her entire surroundings. The fog that suppressed her mind as a veil had finally disappeared, as had the knowledge surrounding her.

Only now did she realize what lay before her. It could not be described. It was definitely a magic circle that could only have come from the almighty gods. Not knowing it, she stared spellbound at the ritual that was taking place in front of her. Many forms could be seen that began to bubble like a volcano. Her experience told her how incomplete this circle was. And yet the land shook in the glow of the heavens.

And then.

Laila opened her eyes.

The cold wind cut across her wet skin. The spittle dried on her tongue. The circle lay before her, flashing black like the void.

She wanted to say something, but only grunts escaped her dry throat. What had she done? What a monster made her into a puppet. The mana that tortured her throat pushed it to the extreme; it plunged into the circle. Connected to infinity, she saw a space beyond the universe—another dimension that disregarded any rules.

Red sweat rolled down her legs as she clenched her teeth until they cracked, trying not to cry out.

The earth shook under the ether that gathered and became part of the nothingness that raged through this ceremony. Sparks burned into every cell of her body. The pain alone would have made even dragons howl, but all her attention was focused on the circle as she shut off her body's signals. The crest on her back crunched under the spectacles.

Lightning bolts of God struck her hand, lifted toward the spell, and burned the bandage that hid the secret. A watch settled over the shotguns glowing on her wrist. One last time, the tunnel roared and pulled the clouds out of the sky.

A figure emerged from the engulfing light, her crimson-red gown swaying in the storm.

"What happened?" Laila muttered weakly as a revolver pressed against her forehead.

Figures from ancient legends descended to earth today. Illusions took on a material form, but the girl before her belonged to none of them. Her presence alone comes from a space that this universe could not accommodate.

An anomaly beyond knowledge and legend had entered this world.

Her legs, robbed of power, collapsed until she finally fell into the void.

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