A cavalcade of elemental forces unfolded before Scarlett as she channeled her mana into her magic, with fiery whirls of concentrated flames bursting into existence only to be smothered by cascading vortexes of water. These vortexes enveloped the flames, dousing them in a dramatic clash of opposing forces that resulted in towering columns of steam. This cycle of fire and water continued relentlessly, creating a daunting spectacle for any who looked upon it.

Sweat lined Scarlett’s brow as she sat on a chair just outside the range of this chaotic fray, intensely focusing on suppressing the onslaught.

“I’ll be increasing the difficulty again,” a voice declared from the sidelines.

Suddenly, the emerging flames grew fiercer, engulfing the torrents of water that tried to contain them. The air became thick with the hiss and roar of sizzling steam as Scarlett’s magic succumbed to the fires. Eventually, the overwhelming force of the fires forced her to relent, and she slumped back, exhausted, as the last of the water and her hydrokinesis gave way. The flames died down not long after.

“Huh. Seems you’re not quite ready to handle this level yet,” the voice remarked casually.

Wiping her face with a handkerchief, Scarlett turned towards Arlene, who was observing her from a chair on top of her porch in Freymeadow, a book lying on her lap. There was not even a trace of weariness from the inferno that she had conjured up just now.

“I was already straining to contain the flames before you chose to push them further,” Scarlett said, her voice tinged with both fatigue and exasperation. “Did you truly expect me to handle twice the intensity?”

“No, but it would have been a rather pleasant surprise, wouldn’t it?” Arlene replied dryly, her eyes briefly meeting Scarlett’s before returning to her book. “Alas, life isn’t always about pleasant surprises, it seems. We’ll try once again once you’ve had some rest.”

Scarlett sighed, turning away to look out over the quiet village square, still in disarray from their ‘practice session’. As always, Arlene didn’t hold any punches in instructing her. While that was probably a good thing, she wished it didn’t have to be quite so frustrating at times.

Leaning back in her chair, she brought a flask to her lips and took a long drink from it. The water was refreshingly cool against her dry throat, a welcome relief after the intense magical exercise and the scorching heat of Freymeadow’s broiling summer.

Lately, Arlene had been focusing more on improving Scarlett’s hydrokinesis, setting up challenging ‘combat’ scenarios that pitted her hydrokinesis against Arlene’s own magic. It was tough, but she had to admit that it was a valuable experience when it came to fighting mages, despite the woman overshadowing her by leagues and bounds.

Though if Arlene’s own remarks were to be believed, Scarlett was bridging that gap faster than she herself was even aware.

Her eyes wandered over the quaint village, spotting some of the residents going about their daily lives among the houses. More often than not, they didn’t bother interfering with any of her activities here, focusing on their own affairs.

Not that any of what they were working on would ever amount to anything. Scarlett didn’t envy their obliviousness to the true nature of this place, but she supposed that, considering their circumstances, there was also a certain charm in being ignorant of their broader reality. There was something to be said for simply forgetting and taking things easy sometimes.

In the outside world, a week had passed since Godwin’s visit to the mansion. In that time, she had spent most of it practicing her magic and exploring a couple of dungeons in nearby cities. Though it felt closer to two weeks due to her frequent trips to Freymeadow, this hadn’t significantly changed her normal routine.

She cast a thoughtful glance in Arlene’s direction, pondering the woman. This version of Arlene was different from the one to whom Scarlett had previously given the [Eternal Flameweaver’s Athame (Divine)]. That loop had already ended, begetting another after it and yet another after that.

Despite her initial concerns, the reset had done little to change their relationship, since each ‘reality’ here seemed to weave a slightly altered narrative. Where before she’d been the one to present the [Eternal Flameweaver’s Athame] to Arlene; now, at the start of each loop, the woman already had it in her possession, complete with a plausible explanation for this anomaly. Nevertheless, she still generously allowed Scarlett to use it during their training sessions.

A fact Scarlett very much appreciated. It was what helped her persevere through the training, and why she only felt half-dead right now, despite her having spent the entire afternoon rigorously honing her magic. Rosa had initially joined her, but the bard left to run about with the village kids after having exhausted her mana.A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Resting quietly, Scarlett let her thoughts wander.

Frankly, the recent period of relative calm she’d experienced felt off considering the current situation. The empire was embroiled in so many conflicts and mysteries right now — from the Hallowed Cabal and the Tribe of Sin’s looming attacks to the turbulence caused by the appearance of Anguish’s citadel and the disappearance of the first princess, not to mention the existence of a potential player. Scarlett spending a whole week simply dungeon-delving and playing around with her magic seemed strange in that context.

But it wasn’t as if it was unwelcome to have a temporary reprieve from it all. No Cabal agents were bothering her about her encounter with Nol’viz, no inquisitors from the Followers were besieging her home for colluding with demons, and no research-crazed mages were pestering her for her secrets. For now, it was just her dealing with the smaller stuff.

Still, she wouldn’t say no to at least some action amidst the calm. Several investigations were underway on her behalf, and she was simply awaiting their outcomes before she could get more things done. She had already done what she could to accelerate those processes, and the rest was up to fate.

Figuratively.

“That should be an adequate amount of rest, I believe,” Arlene announced after a few minutes.

A reluctant scowl formed on Scarlett’s face. She disagreed with that statement, but she had learned it was generally best to follow the woman’s lead with these things.

Putting aside any distracting thoughts, she refocused on the square as new fires manifested before her. Back to the grind it was.

Scarlett was seated in the carriage along with Fynn and Rosa as it wound its way through the gates of the Freybrook estate, the wheels crunching over the snow-dusted gravel road towards the mansion.

Her trips to Freymeadow had settled into a predictable rhythm of magical training, but not much of particular interest actually happened during them. The visits had become so routine that she often left Shin and Allyssa behind unless their presence was particularly required.

Upon arrival at the mansion, Scarlett and her companions stepped out of the carriage. After entering the mansion, Scarlett quickly parted ways with Rosa and Fynn to make her way to her office.

En route, she ran into Garside, who informed her that Evelyne would be out for the evening, meeting with Count Knottley to discuss new initiatives related to the relief efforts. Scarlett was mildly surprised by this news; interactions with the Count were rare for both her and Evelyne, and he wasn’t exactly her biggest fan.

Although the man’s relationship with Evelyne was a bit better, so maybe he didn’t mind meeting the woman as much. And if Evelyne thought a meeting with the man would help her work, Scarlett saw no reason to interfere.

Dismissing the matter for the moment, she continued to her office, settling in behind her desk and retrieving several objects and books from her [Pouch of Holding].

She paused as she took out the small bluebird carving on a marble base — an artifact she used to communicate with Beldon Tyndall. A subtle flicker of white light at its base caught her attention.

It seemed like the man had something to tell her.

Extending her senses through the Loci, she made sure the vicinity around her office was clear before activating the artifact. She pressed a concealed switch on its bottom, which caused a gentle glow to radiate from the marble, accompanied by a soft static reminiscent of old phones. Soon, the noise cleared into a clear, distinct female voice.

“Who knows the paths unseen?” it demanded.

“The paths unseen are known to the silent watchers,” Scarlett replied.

There was a brief period of silence, followed by a click, and the light from the artifact faded.

Scarlett didn’t mind as she reached for a book on her desk, choosing to browse through its pages while she waited. This wasn’t the first time she’d had this exchange. The theatrical subterfuge was a bit much for her taste, but it was very in style for Beldon. In a way, it fit his role as the leader of a covert intelligence network.

Time passed, and about thirty minutes later, the artifact resumed its glow. Scarlett set aside her book, shifting her focus back to the carved bluebird.

“Baroness,” came Beldon’s voice from the artifact. “You’ll have to forgive the delay. I was tied up with pressing matters.”

“There is no need for apologies, Tyndall,” Scarlett responded calmly. “I have no expectations that you will always be at my beck and call and am well accustomed to waiting when necessary.”

“Yes, I’m quite aware of your understanding nature. But it would be a poor showing of me if I didn’t at least pretend to be sorry, don’t you think?”

“…I suppose.” Scarlett shook her head slightly. “Let us proceed to the matter at hand. I understand that you wished to speak with me. Have you progressed in the investigations I tasked you with?”

“In part,” Beldon said. “Though the reliability of the information is yet to be fully assessed, I thought it pertinent to bring it to your attention given our keen interest in the topic. However, even assuming the information is accurate, my operatives have reached an impasse of sorts.”

“An impasse?”

“An impasse. You see, while I’d like to say that there are no places on this continent beyond my network’s reach, reality has often proven otherwise. One of the investigations you tasked us with is an example of that, and it has presented a challenge that will make it difficult to proceed with the request.”

“Do not dally. Speak what you have to say.”

Beldon’s chuckle resonated faintly through the carving. “I am afraid that the leads we’ve pursued have led us to suspect any further investigations would require access to a location outside our reach.”

Scarlett frowned. “Which request does this involve?”

“It concerns your inquiry about the fate of that noble called Delmont.”

Her expression grew more serious. “…So you are saying we cannot complete the investigation?”

“Not on my end, regrettable as it is,” Beldon said. “However, that does not mean all avenues are barred for us. In fact, this might be a case where your direct involvement could yield better results than any of my operatives could hope for.”

Scarlett considered it for a moment. What places would Beldon have trouble finding any information in?

“Elaborate,” she demanded.

The man’s tone shifted to one of intrigue. “Tell me, Baroness. Have you ever ventured to the Rising Isle?”