"To confuse your enemy you shall confuse yourself first. For if you don't know what you're doing, how is the enemy suppose to know?" - Sun Tzu, the art of self-sabotage.
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Location: Tourhans estate - Gurus garden/laboratory
3rd perspective
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Pages and pages of dizzying numbers and equations litter the ground. Gurus’ eyes stare intensely at the green leaves inside a bot of contaminated soil. His mood gradually deteriorates and spoils.
For the long and gruelling hours of seclusion within his humble garden, his sanity is on the verge of collapse. But at last, the contradictory results betray his eager anticipation.
The vibrant greenish colour of the leaves is corrupted by the colours of despair, brown, and darkness. It erodes and saps the vitality of the little innocent plants.
Gurus scratch the back of his dull skull fiercely, not because it itches. Reluctantly, he notes down the hectic weeks of experimentation into a word document inside his head.
Failure is a part of the process. Failure is a part of the process. Failure is a part of the process…
His sunken eyes ache for forgotten rest from their laborious hours. Regrettably, the workaholic tendencies of their employer reject their desperate yearning for unwind.
Gurus heavily rise, walking over the flimsy papers on the grimy floor. Arriving at a cabinet, he takes out a few unusual rocks, strange-coloured chemicals, and powders. He heads back again to his experimental workstation, completing the necessary preparation.
<Crush> + <Mix> + <Spin> + <Heat>
The rocks and powders submerge in a transparent liquid and miraculously circulate. Round and round and round it goes. The colours shift. But weirdly, Gurus vision begins to swirl and distort.
Shit. Mana overu…
His sore eyes flicker. The consequences of neglecting his own body come. Crushing pressure builds within his skull as if his head wants to burst. In one last desperate attempt, Gurus shifts the objects in front of him by nudging them away with his arm. Some more pages and equipment dropped onto the ground.
The burning candle of the Gurus’ consciousness wavers. His eyes glance upwards and turn white. His arms crossed on the table, ready to be a cushion. Before everything goes dark, Gurus softly rests his head in his frail arms.
Sorry
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Location: On the road toward Tourhans estate
3rd perspective
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She adores the rush of racing down the road. The sensation of air rushing against her. The ability to travel across the country. The excitement of riding a powerful horse is comparable to riding a motorcycle instead of driving a car.
People like her find it amusing to be in a dangerous situation. They choose stimulation above potential repercussions such as being attacked, assassinated, or dealing with adverse weather. There is a ‘maid’ sitting behind her, which dismissed her satisfaction.
Nonetheless, it is the minimum requirement to convince them to allow her to mount a horse instead, rather than a carriage.
Three more splendid horses surround them in a triangle formation. They all wear black cloaks to carefully conceal their official uniforms and rare appearance. It's obvious that people know they are high-standing people on the outside, but not their identity.
That’s enough. Potential enemies may doubt their prime target. Killing the wrong person would be detrimental. Other disguises had been promptly sent ahead of time as well.
Furthermore, these valiant horses have been specially developed for distance. Their powerful physique and balanced forms are all focused on aerodynamics, speed, and stamina.
They can achieve a maximum speed of 95 km/h (60 mph, please learn the metric system). Give them drugs, and they will sprint at 110km/h (68mph).
However, if they continue at that speed, they will have problems and may break their legs.
They are only a few minutes away from their objective as they follow the well-made and grainy road laid down by Earth wizards. Because the private Tourhan's estate is located in a rural agricultural area, the nearby roads are generally deserted. For this point, the majority of the locals had arrived at work.
As a result, she travels at a high pace for childish delight.
I hope he won’t flee.
Her private investigation revealed that he distanced himself from most social gatherings and formal events. She pictures him as a timid and secluded hermit. Fearful of human interaction.
Perhaps lonely due to social isolation. Perhaps madly in love with academic studies and intellectual sophistication. In any event, she will find out and reel him into her noble alliance.
At long last, they spot a humble mansion on the horizon. The leading horse rider undoubtedly hears her master cry and accelerates even more.
Her secure grip tightens as she slants forwards and howls in breathless excitement as her maid lashes the prancing horse again. They gallop at a breakneck speed that genuinely startles local people who sight them.
Dust and glittering sand soared up behind them.
Let me see, Gurus Tourhan.
—————
"Please forgive me for not greeting you more warmly, Lady Nazli." The head manager of the Tourhan’s mansion bows to a young lady in her early teens. Maria, the competent manager, had confirmed the large badge that bears the distinctive insignia of Singha Noble House and the letter of introduction from Duchess Caitline.
Combined with her daughter's rare appearance, there is no doubt about it. Maria accompanies them into a guest room.
"It’s fine. Rather, I must apologise for the unexpected visits. " Nazli nods her head lightly. Four other women in black cloaks with armour underneath remain behind her royal sofa.
"Yes, my lady. But, I’m afraid all the heads of Tourhans are not present to greets you.” Coson, Gurus' father, has gone out to meet with a wealthy baron. Tassia, Coson's 1st wife, took her dear daughter, Genmei, with her to witness beast subjugation. Lastly, Margarete gets entangled with Duchess Caitline. Just as Nazli expected.
"All of them?". Nazli inquires, a little suspiciously.
"... With the exception of Lady Margarete's son." Maria wrinkled her brow, oblivious to the fact that this was no coincidence.
"Let me greet him." Nazli beams.
"Please forgive us. The young master is now preoccupied."
"Lead me to him."
"With due respect, my masters directed that no one, who is not authorised by them, can meet Master Gurus unless it is an extreme necessity."
"Do you not trust me", Nazli furrows. Her bland smile fades.
"I have orders to carry out."
Stubborn hag
Nazli raises her left arm and twirls a strand of her light hair. Her maid recognises the exact signs and begins the dramatic act.
"Maria Van Cerr, you should be aware that we are here to investigate Gurus Tourhans on Caitline's orders. This might grow a lot more complicated for you." The maid spoke in an ominous tone.
Maria’s stomach contour at the sudden remarks. Her full name is not known by anyone, not even her master, other than her family members. They threaten my family?
Nazli notes her subtle anxious eye movement.
“Stop it, Yaza."
Nazli turns and glares at her faithful maid. A fierce rush of heavy aurae instantly turns the atmosphere dark and cold.
The entire room shudders. They are reminded of the distinct identity of the child in front of them.
Daughter of the bloody queen.
Nazli has undoubtedly inherited her monstrous mother's imperiousness and formidable power. They didn't allow her to ride a horse in the open air, putting her life in danger.
Rather, they agree, believing she would be able to fend for herself in worse-case scenarios. Nazli is highly sensitive to the harsh world around her.
All the minor details and slight movements don’t escape her attention.
All of her servants abruptly kneel, as if gravity were causing their knees to crumble. Yaza, the maid, apologises profusely. While Maria is inexplicably shocked and confused, Nazli turns around and sighs dejectedly.
"Maria, I apologise on behalf of my servant. We don’t wish to do that." Nazli lowers her head and looks up, revealing a shameful and concerned face.
"Ah... T... That’s fine." Maria stuttered, and her eyes widened in mild surprise as she witnessed a noble lowering her head for a common servant.
Immediately, Nazli's face grew compassionate and her rosy lip curved upward, giving Maria an elegant expression that might tug at the heartstrings of men, contrasting her potential for ruthlessness.
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Maria's gaze is drawn subconsciously to Nazli's ruby eyes. Her mind wavers. Her rationality falters. Maria experiences an attraction toward the adolescent child in front of her.
The room becomes quiet for a solid minute unknowingly.
"Maria, are you ok?”. Nazli asks with a tone of practical concern. Maria’s body jerks awake.
"Pardon me, I got distracted. What will you do now, Lady Nazli?"
"Please accept my greetings for Gurus."
"But I..."
"I understand you must protect your master. However, it is only a matter of time till I inevitably meet him in one way or the other. My good mother will most certainly persuade Lady Margarete to make it happen or use another... arduous approach. I genuinely think it is best to ease my mother's eager curiosity, and get this over and done with."
Maria lapses into stillness and serious contemplation. Nazli detects her obvious hesitancy and proceeds earnestly.
"Please Maria. I can't return empty-handed after travelling for two days straight. If you get in trouble, say that I had threatened you to allow me through."
Maria gave her a puzzled look, but nob.
"For decades, the Tourhans and Singhas have been close allies. Your master will need vital allies eventually, and I'm here to get to know my future companion better."
Maria had carefully studied Gurus since he was born as a faithful head servant of the Tourhans estate.
Maria witnesses his intelligence, noble generosity, and humble attitude that doesn’t befit a local child. But she is in the presence of a prodigy, and therefore common sense is out of the window.
Occasionally, he displays his childish and cheerful attitude, which Maria found amusing.
His exceptional mind, on the other hand, has caused him to automatically take on duties at a young age.
It laments to her that he never had much of a privileged childhood because the Tourhans isolated him so that his intellectual talent would remain within their private house. To her surprise, Gurus never complain. He seemed to prefer it and desires to be a hermit.
Poor boy. He'd never known an innocent childhood or companionship.
Noticing Maria’s hesitation, Nazli sighs sorrowfully.
"Maria, it’s up to you. No, I asked too much. I’m sorry for the unexpected intrusion."
Nazli rises and signals her servant.
"Follow me."
Maria calls out as Nazli expected.
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Yaza murmurs as they stroll down the corridor, keeping a safe distance from Maria.
"You took advantage of me, my lady. We could have just threatened her."
Initially, the strategy was to simply threaten Maria’s family's safety and other vulnerabilities, but Nazli ends up playing a ‘Good Cops and Bad Cops" social game.
She portrays Yaza as strict and nasty to Maria. Nazli then comes in and silent Yaza, presenting herself as a heroic, kind, and sympathetic young lady.
The ‘psychological contrast effect’ of having a nice and cruel person raises trustworthiness in the nice person. It is similar to having a kind father and a strict mother.
Nazli’s mother's ruthless reputation makes Maria more inclined to favor Nazli's pretentious politeness. Along with Nazli's innate ‘alluring’ ability to influence people to open up to her more easily, Maria falls for her witchery.
"Where is the fun in that?" Nazli giggles lightly. Yaza sighs as they move swiftly.
They close the back door and enter the backyard.
A massive and expansive glasshouse that could ideally fit a tree around 5 meters tall (196.85 inches) (learn metric), made of sturdy glass, can be instantly be seen.
Maria signals them to move on as Nazli surveys her surroundings.
They approach at the entrance of tinted glass, through which they can see the organic form and green shade of plants.
"What is this?"
"It’s his idea. This glasshouse nourishes plants well. You can discuss it with him."
Maria cautiously opens and enters, eagerly followed by Yaza first and then Nazli for safety.
They halt impressively as they enter. It’s warm. Nazli and Yaza, on the other hand, are taken aback by the magnificent sight of lush foliage, greenery, and vibrant flowers.
Rare and indigenous flora thrive. Along the trail, there are several exotic plant species. The air is moist and saturated with vitality, like the soothing aroma of several teas or the aftermath of a rainy day.
Flowers flourish proudly, vying for the attention of their few visitors and taking pride in their creators. The pleasant sight is enhanced by the surreal sunshine.
Altogether, it is a work of art.
Beautiful
Nazli walks carefully down the narrow route, seeing strange and alien vegetation on both sides.
"Did he do this?"
"Indeed, Gurus spent most of his leisure time here."
"You’re quite casual."
"He dislikes formality anyway. He said it’s cringe." Maria chuckles, recalling that time.
Nazli could sense the genuine loyalty that Maria expressed towards Gurus. She tilts her head. Her social interest of Gurus veers between piqued curiosity and stunned amazement.
They eventually approach a wooden door. Maria's knocks reverberate around the room. Silence answers her time and time again after two more attempts. Each one is louder than the one before it.
They exchange sharp glances and a little grimace. Maria promptly decides to intrude without permission.
The door creaks ajar, revealing a cluttered workshop. The floors are filled with flimsy paper. Practical tools properly hung along the walls. Countless books rightfully claim the shelves along with test tubes, small plants, and jars filled with random rocks, seeds, and substances, it seems.
A disorganised table sits in the centre of the private room, under the skylight.
Nazli’s vision zone at a boy laying head-sideways on his arms.
His lovely face was facing the door, and she could see half of his face above his arms. He adorns a gardener's outfit. Under the mild sunlight, his luscious hair gleamed a rich brown, coppery color.
In his deep slumber, he breathes peacefully with his eyes closed.
She wishes to see the colour of his eyes beneath those long elegant eyelashes. Even though it’s only half his appearance, she could tell it possessed great symmetry and shape. A tender, cute, and appealing face of an ideal boy inside a girl's fantasy.
All her movement ceases. Eyes on the price.
He’s mine
Firstly, she may feel rush but it will be unravel in the next chapters. Thanks for your patience.
I'm playing with writing styles. This and next few chapters takes a lot of attention so it will takes time. Also I'm trying to using images for visual support. Tell me your thoughts.
Secondly, I will be taking sometime off. So for the next 20 days, don't expect any chapters.
If I ever stop this story, I will notify you instead of leaving you hanging like some other authors.
Thirdly, I thought about creating a discord server. Would anyone join to maybe proof read my work, give me suggestion, criticism, and ideas? Just something casual I guess.
Finally, tell me your thoughts on my writing so far.
Good day and take care.
Also learn metric system you imperial system scum. Unless you wish me to write a whole chapter explaining the history of the economics and geopolitics of the metric system. I must warn. It will be a page of Wikipedia. I will only shows imperial measurement this chapters, and no others. So suffer.
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