Cetza

A dull ache throbbed behind my eyes as consciousness pulled me from the fog. My body felt heavy, the familiar weightlessness of mana replaced by something sluggish, strained. I blinked slowly, the soft glow of morning light filtering through the curtains, casting warm rays across my room.

Everything hurt—but not as badly as I expected. My chest rose and fell steadily, and the sharp, burning exhaustion from yesterday had dulled to a deep, lingering fatigue. It felt wrong—like my mana had been wrung dry, leaving a hollow ache behind. I didn't know what to call it, but it was something—something I wasn't prepared for.

A soft rustle broke the silence. Turning my head, I found Reilan seated beside my bed, his usually sharp expression softened with something unfamiliar—concern. His gaze met mine immediately.

"You're awake," he said, his voice low, almost relieved.

I tried to sit up, but a wave of dizziness dragged me back down. Reilan was already there, steadying me without a word. "Slow," he warned. "You pushed yourself further than you should have."

I swallowed, my throat dry and raw. "What... happened?"

His jaw tightened slightly. "You lost control. Calamitas stopped you before it got worse." There was something guarded in his voice—like he was holding back more.

My fingers curled weakly into the blanket. Lost control. The fight, the magic, the voices—it all blurred together, but fragments sparked in my mind. My father's glare. A sharp tension in the air, something unspoken and heavy. The sheer, burning instinct to prove myself.

[Notice: Recovery Mode – Active] [Mana Pathways Stabilizing] [Symptoms consistent with Mana Exhaustion Syndrome (MES) detected] [Condition: Minor – Recovery expected with rest]

Huh? MES? Why...did I have MES? I hadn't depleted my mana completely—had I? The question gnawed at me, unsettled and unanswered.

My voice cracked as I whispered, "How mad... is he? And...why do I have MES?"

Reilan's eyes flickered, but his lips pressed tight. "Your father? Or your mother?" He sidestepped the MES question entirely, his focus fixed solely on the family tension.

[Notice: Detected elevated heart rate in Reilan.]

My stomach sank. "Huh? Why mention my mother?"

The silence that followed was answer enough.

Reilan's voice broke the tension. "There was... a fight," he began carefully. "Between them. After you collapsed. Your mother—she was... furious. At your father. At Calamitas. At everything. I've never seen her like that."

His gaze turned solemn. "They argued—loudly. About you. About what happened. About why it happened." He paused, his voice lowering. "Your mother's anger... wasn't just rage. It was fear."

I felt the air leave my chest, my voice barely a whisper. "Because of me?"

Reilan's hand rested lightly on the bed, his tone gentle but firm. "Because she loves you. Because she wants you safe."

The room felt impossibly small. My chest felt tight. I turned my head slightly, my voice soft but unsteady: "And... what about him?"

Reilan's voice dropped. "Your father… he wasn't angry. He was terrified."

A breath hitched in my throat. For a moment, everything—the exhaustion, the fear, the ache—blurred into something unspoken but deeply felt. I swallowed hard.

I wasn't sure what scared me more.

The fact that I had lost control.

Or that they had lost control—because of me.

I tried to shift, testing my body. A dull pain lanced through me, my limbs heavy and uncooperative. My mana... barely a whisper.

[Notice: Mana pathways impaired. Estimated recovery time: moderate.]

I swallowed thickly. "I... can't feel my mana properly."

Reilan's eyes flickered with something unreadable. "Calamitas...stopped you from pushing yourself into a worse state of MES."

My heart pounded. "So... I was dangerous."

His voice was firm, but careful. "No. You were... driven."

The room felt impossibly small. My chest tightened again—not from pain, but from the weight of everything I had lost: control, certainty, and the trust I thought I understood. And everything I still didn't understand—the battle inside me, my family's fear, and what it all truly meant.

Then, a soft knock at the door. It creaked open slowly.

"Good," a familiar voice, softer than expected, broke through the haze. "You're awake."

Calamitas stepped forward, her usual sharp presence softened, and her eyes—curious, but lacking the usual spark of challenge—rested on me. "How are you feeling?" she asked, her voice free of mockery, carrying something almost... careful.

I blinked, disoriented by the shift. "Tired," I managed, my voice rough. "Heavy."

A glimmer of something—approval?—crossed her face. "That's normal. Your body's been through more than you realize." She paused, then, surprisingly, softened further: "You scared them. You scared me, too."

The admission felt like a ripple, unexpected and impossible to ignore. My throat tightened. "I didn't mean to—"

She raised a hand, silencing the apology. "I know. But let's be clear—your mother did not approve of me teaching you." Her voice, still gentle, carried a subtle warning.

Reilan tensed at her words, his usual guarded composure shifting into something sharper. His arms crossed tightly, and I could see the frustration simmering beneath his expression. "Then maybe you shouldn't," he said bluntly. His tone wasn't harsh, but it carried weight.

Calamitas sighed, clearly unimpressed. "Ah, the protective knight routine. Adorable." She tilted her head, examining him like he was some fascinating anomaly. "Your concern is noted. And dismissed."

Reilan scowled. "This isn't a game. If her mother doesn't want you here, if she doesn't want you teaching her, then you shouldn't be forcing this."

"I don't force," Calamitas corrected, her voice still calm. "I offer. And the choice isn't yours to make." She turned her attention back to me, her gaze unreadable. "It's hers."

I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of their words pressing into me. My mother didn't approve. Reilan clearly didn't trust Calamitas. And yet… I wanted to understand my magic. I wanted control. But what would that mean for my family? What would it mean for me?

[Notice: Analyzing emotional response… Failed. Unable to process human conflict. Would you like logical assistance?]

I almost laughed. Even they didn't know how to handle this. I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to sort through the storm of emotions twisting inside me.

Calamitas exhaled through her nose, as if bored of the debate already. "Look, if it makes you feel better, I didn't take this job because I care about noble politics. I came because a dear student of mine called in a favor."

Reilan scoffed, his expression darkening. "So someone called in a favor. Let me guess—Hinata?" His voice carried suspicion, but also reluctant acknowledgment. He didn't know much about Calamitas, but he knew enough to suspect this wasn't just about curiosity.

Calamitas smirked. "Sharp. But that's only part of it. You see, I enjoy having people owe me. It keeps life... entertaining."

His expression darkened further. "You're unbelievable."

"And yet, here I am," she replied smoothly. She leaned back against the nearby wall, arms folded. "Besides, I was told her magic was unique. That intrigued me. And when I saw it for myself, I realized Hinata wasn't exaggerating."

I tensed. She had seen my magic firsthand. And now, for the first time, I wondered what she really thought of it.

Reilan didn't back down. "You're talking about her like she's some experiment."

Calamitas grinned, sharp and knowing. "No. I'm talking about her like she's interesting. And I don't say that often."

Then, just as the air felt thick enough to break, he demanded, "What are you?"

The smirk didn't waver. "#7 of the Grand Sorcerer Citadel," she said, like it was obvious. "Calamitas, the Brimstone Witch."

The room went silent.

Reilan's face paled. My heartbeat stuttered.

[Great Sage Notice: Clarifying inquiry…]

[Title: #7 of the Grand Sorcerer Citadel] — Designation within an elite group of the most powerful recognized magic users within the known world. Individuals ranked within this group are renowned for their mastery over mana and their influence on magical development.

[Alias: Calamitas, the Brimstone Witch] — A title associated with immense destructive power and unpredictability. Historical records indicate widespread fear and respect among magical scholars and rulers alike.

[Additional context required?]

I hesitated for only a moment before thinking, Yes.

[Additional Data Retrieved: The Grand Sorcerer Citadel is an exclusive gathering of the most formidable magic users in recorded history. Each member holds a designated rank based on their abilities, contributions, and influence over the magical world. To be listed among them signifies unparalleled mastery.]

[Rank #7 – Calamitas, the Brimstone Witch: Notorious for redefining magical theory and practical combat applications, she has directly influenced advancements in mana manipulation. Her reputation is built on both brilliance and destruction. Historically, she has been regarded as a force of chaos, often disregarding conventional wisdom in favor of raw innovation.]

I swallowed. That explained the way Reilan paled.

His voice, sharp and laced with disbelief, cut through the thick silence. "The Brimstone Witch. You taught Lord Satoshi and Lord Hinata?"

Calamitas' smirk widened as she tilted her head. "Oh? You figured it out. That's adorable."

Reilan's fingers curled into fists at his sides. "Why you?"

She let out a laugh, rich with amusement. "Because I was the only one who could."

That answer didn't satisfy him. I could see it in the way his jaw tightened, how his stance shifted as if he were preparing for a fight he knew he couldn't win.

I wasn't sure what was worse—the fact that she was clearly enjoying this, or the fact that I now understood why she had been chosen.

Because if my father and Uncle Hinata had trained under her—then what exactly had they been preparing for?

The air in the room felt heavier than before. Not from magic, not from tension—something deeper. A shift, subtle yet undeniable. The weight of an unspoken truth that had just begun to settle.

I curled my fingers into the sheets beneath me, grounding myself.

Her voice, quiet but firm, cut through the silence. "Then tell me."

Calamitas arched an eyebrow, her smirk still in place, but something in her eyes sharpened. "Tell you what, little star?"

I exhaled slowly, my body still sluggish from recovery, but my mind refusing to slow. "Why? Why did my father and Uncle Hinata need you? What were they preparing for?"

A flicker of amusement crossed Calamitas' face, but it was tempered by something else—something unreadable.

Instead of answering, she tilted her head toward Reilan. "Why don't you tell her?"

Reilan tensed. "What?"

Calamitas' expression was almost lazy as she tapped a finger against her temple. "You've seen them fight. You've seen the way they move, the way they react. Did you think that was just nobility training? Some well-kept secret of aristocratic combat?"

Reilan's mouth pressed into a thin line. "I... don't know. I never questioned it."

"That's the problem with you lot." She sighed dramatically, shaking her head. "No curiosity. No why." Then, her voice dipped lower, something sharp creeping into it. "Your Lord and his dearest friend came to me because they had no choice. Because power, real power, is not a luxury—it is a necessity."

I felt my pulse quicken. "A necessity for what?"

Calamitas tilted her head, studying her like an interesting puzzle. "War. Control. Survival. Take your pick."

The silence that followed was suffocating.

I swallowed. I had thought I understood what my father was training me for—what this was all leading toward. But now, for the first time, I wasn't sure.

Something dark loomed beneath these answers, something I wasn't ready to face.

[Notice: Emotional distress detected. Recommended action: slow inhalation to regulate response.]

I almost laughed. Even Great Sage was treating this like a problem to be solved—breaking my emotions down into calculations and responses, as if steady breathing could unravel the weight of what I'd just heard.

Reilan broke the silence first, his voice tight. "You trained them. That still doesn't answer why you. Why did they seek you out? Why not someone else?"

Calamitas' smirk widened. "Because I was the only one who could make them stronger. Because they weren't looking for a mentor." She leaned forward, resting her chin on her palm. "They were looking for a weapon."

The words sent a chill through my spine.

Reilan's fists clenched at his sides. "Then what are you trying to make her into?"

Calamitas exhaled, something almost—almost—resembling patience crossing her face. "That's up to her, don't you think?" Her gaze slid back to me. "Tell me, little star. If I was your enemy—how would you defeat me?"

The question hit like a strike to the chest.

I blinked. "What?"