Chapter 17 Alexa's and Jasper's Redemption

Following the routine set after her sentencing, Alexa's days were filled with the most physically demanding chores of the manor. Her mornings began before the first light of dawn, on the chilly stone floors of the manor, her raw hands pushing the harsh bristles of a brush across the cold, hard surface. As the morning sun began to claim the sky, she would move on to polishing the manor's silverware, her diligent efforts resulting in a gleaming array that mirrored the daylight.

Her laborious tasks didn't end with sundown. Her grueling chores continued far into after the sun had set. Far into the night, she would be seen trudging down the manor's sprawling hallways, guided only by the dim glow of the lamp she carried. Her destination was the subterranean levels of the manor, where the servants' quarters were situated, far from the opulence of the floors above.

Her room was one among the many in the long corridor of the servants' quarters. Though it lacked the grandeur of the rooms above, it was warm and intimate. Upon entering, she was met with the familiar, comforting sight of Lydia, her figure illuminated by the soft glow of the room's single lamp. Lydia and the other maids who were quietly sleeping in the room were her roommates.

Lydia's presence in the room was like a steady flame in the chilling winter, her vibrant spirit making the austere room feel more like a home. Her welcoming smile was the final period that marked the end of Alexa's long, grueling day.

As Alexa softly shut the door behind her, she was careful not to make any loud noise that might disturb the other maids in their sleep. The soft padding of her footsteps was the only sound that filled the quiet room. She set the lamp she was carrying on a nearby table, casting long shadows on the walls.

Turning towards Lydia, a soft smile played on her lips. "Lydia, you really don't have to wait up for me every night," she said gently. Despite her exhaustion, Alexa's voice held a warmth that reflected her deep appreciation for Lydia's support.

For the past few weeks, Lydia had made it a point to keep Alexa company, often staying up until the early hours of the morning to ensure she wasn't alone when she returned from her chores. Lydia's unwavering companionship and support had served as a beacon of hope and strength for Alexa, helping her navigate through the arduous days of her punishment. The older maid's kindness and care had turned their shared quarters into a haven for Alexa, a place where she could shed her worries and rest.

Despite Alexa's insistence, Lydia shook her head and responded with a soft chuckle. "Nonsense, dear. It's the least I can do for you," she reassured, her warm eyes reflecting a sense of affection and empathy. "And besides, it's quite peaceful at this hour, don't you think?"

Her words hung in the room, creating an atmosphere of camaraderie that lightened Alexa's burdens just a bit. The notion of solitude could be daunting, and Lydia's presence and patience were like a soothing balm to Alexa's tired spirit.

Exhausted, the two maids made their way to their respective beds. As Alexa sank into her modest bedding, every inch of her body sighed in relief. Lydia, too, soon found comfort in the embrace of her bed, and the room fell into a silence, disturbed only by the occasional whisper of the night breeze from the small window.

Thus, the first grueling week of Alexa's punishment drew to a close. Seven days of relentless labor and introspection had left her weary, but more resolute than ever. She had two more weeks to go, but the hardship was not what weighed heaviest on her mind.

As she lay in the darkness, the thought of her young master, Jasper, invaded her thoughts. Due to her punishing schedule, she hadn't been able to be by his side as she used to be. "I hope he's doing okay," she whispered into the stillness of the room, her words laden with guilt and concern.

Her whisper echoed softly before being swallowed by the silence. With a sigh, Alexa closed her eyes, surrendering herself to the beckoning arms of sleep after yet another long day.

***

As dawn broke over the spring village, a figure could be seen swiftly moving through the various stances of a sword technique in the courtyard of the Chief's mansion. It was Jasper, his training regime having become more intensive since the decision to show his talents to the world.

The air around him pulsed with the steady rhythm of his aura, his breaths coming out in synchronized puffs. The moonlight glinted off his sword as he swung it with practiced precision, the distinctive hum of its movement a testament to his concentration and the seriousness of his training.

His new technique was one of the more aggressive styles from the Martial Hall, specifically designed to improve a practitioner's strength by gathering the flow of aura into the arms. This marked a shift from his previous, more balanced style, and it was challenging. But Jasper welcomed the challenge, his determination burning bright in his eyes.

Every morning, Jasper would wake up before the sun, taking a set of medicinal pills prepared by his father, Cline. Each pill was a compound of various medicinal herbs collected from the vast wilderness surrounding the village, painstakingly crafted to assist Jasper in his physical development and harnessing of aura.

Following the medicinal intake, Jasper would immerse himself in a bath filled with a concoction of other beneficial herbs. The warm liquid would seep into his pores, the medicinal properties aiding in his recovery from the previous day's training and preparing his body for the day ahead. The bath not only relaxed his muscles but also stimulated his senses, revitalizing his spirit.

Under the vigilant eyes of Grant, Jasper's training routine intensified. The older man, although a servant, carried out his duty as Jasper's mentor with a strictness that underscored his deep care for the boy. He guided Jasper through the new sword technique, his sharp eyes catching every minute error and his firm voice correcting Jasper's stances and swings.

As the first light of dawn streaked across the sky, Cline rapped on Jasper's door. "Are you ready, son?" he called out, his voice booming through the silent hallway. Moments later, the door opened, revealing a wide-awake Jasper. His eyes, bright and eager, met his father's gaze. A quick nod, and the two set off together towards the courtyard.

Behind them, a steady set of footsteps echoed. It was Grant, his face set in a solemn mask, his usual jovial nature replaced by an air of seriousness befitting the occasion.

As they entered the courtyard, the morning sun cast long shadows, the cool morning breeze rustling through the trees. Cline took a seat on a stone bench, his eyes focused intently on Jasper.

"Show me your progress, Jasper," he said, his voice as firm as his gaze.

Nodding, Jasper stepped into the center of the courtyard. His sword, glistening under the early sunlight, was a faithful reflection of the month-long hard work and dedication he had put into his training.

Starting with the first stance of his new technique, Jasper began demonstrating his skills. Each movement was fluid, each swing of his sword echoed with a resonant hum, his aura flowing smoothly. Every twist and turn, every step and leap, was a testament to his unwavering dedication and hard work.

Cline and Grant watched as Jasper moved through the rigorous techniques with a fluidity and precision that were far advanced from where he had started. His progress was undeniable, his strength and aura control having increased considerably.

Once Jasper finished his demonstration, he stood before Cline, chest heaving, his gaze steady despite the exertion. Cline nodded, a rare smile playing on his lips. "Good work, Jasper," he praised, his voice filled with pride and satisfaction. "Your aura circulation is very smooth, and you have great control over it. Switching between techniques before even the 2nd stage of pre-practitioner realm is quite impressive." His hands cupped his chin in deep thought.

"Jasper," Cline began, his voice bearing the weight of his words, "I can see the amount of dedication you've put in. Your body, your stance, your aura control – all are considerably stronger than before."

As his voice resonated through the silent courtyard, a palpable sense of anticipation filled the air. A fleeting smile touched his lips, his gaze never leaving Jasper, as he issued his next directive. Turning towards the entrance of the courtyard, where Grant stood attentively, he announced, "Grant, fetch the head maid and inform her that Alexa's punishment has now been served. She may resume her duties as Jasper's personal maid."

"But Jasper," Cline continued, his voice taking on a serious tone, "while Alexa can return to her duties by your side, remember, your punishment is far from over. In three months, you'll turn six and it will be time for you to join the Martial Hall. You'll have just two years from then to graduate. Make the most of your time here."

Jasper, taking in his father's words, stood straighter. His gaze met Cline's, the spark of resolve in his eyes burning brighter. "Yes, Father," he replied, his voice firm and steady, "I understand. I won't disappoint you."

With that, Cline rose from his stone seat, his gaze lingering on Jasper for a moment longer before he turned to leave, disappearing into the grandeur of the manor.

Left alone in the courtyard, Jasper did not rest. He returned to his training, his movements echoing through the courtyard with renewed vigor. The sun climbed higher into the sky, its rays glistening off his sweat-drenched body, painting a picture of a young boy's unwavering dedication.

Sometime later, the figure of Alexa appeared at the entrance of the courtyard. Guided by Grant, she hesitated at the threshold, her gaze falling on Jasper. His figure, illuminated by the sun, his sword moving in a captivating rhythm, was a sight she had missed dearly during her punishment. The sight of him, so steadfast and determined, filled her with a mixture of relief and anticipation.