An Olive-branch & Advancement

The soft rustle of pages was the only sound in the library as Delphia flipped through yet another tome on mana manipulation. March was in full swing—nearing its end—but the fire crackled faintly in the hearth, casting flickering shadows on the ornate bookshelves that lined the walls. The brisk spring light filtering through the tall windows was pale and cold, mirroring the atmosphere that had settled over Vosswell Manor.

It was peaceful, in a way, but the kind of peace that came from isolation rather than comfort. Delphia leaned back in her chair, setting the book down with a quiet thud. Her thoughts wandered as she gazed out the window, the sprawling estate blanketed with wet ground as everything melted.

The library had become her refuge, a place where she could escape the suffocating presence of her stepfamily—and Father—and focus on something productive.

Today, her focus had been on advancing her understanding of the Fifth Circle, a goal she was determined to reach despite the challenges. The sound of the library door creaking open pulled her from her thoughts. She glanced over her shoulder, expecting to see one of the staff, but instead, Duke Vosswell's tall frame entered the room. His sharp features were set in an expression of measured neutrality, but there was a stiffness to his posture that betrayed his unease.

"Father," Delphia greeted coolly, not bothering to rise from her seat. Her voice was polite, but distant, her focus still lingering on the open book in her hands. She had long since mastered the art of restraint—measured words, controlled emotions. The same could not be said for the quiet tension in the room as Duke Vosswell stood near the entrance, his presence casting a long shadow across the library floor.

"Delphia," he acknowledged, his voice low, measured. He lingered for a moment, as if debating whether to proceed further, before finally stepping inside. "I see you've been spending a great deal of time in here lately."

"It's quiet," she responded simply, finally turning a page in her book. "A good place to study."

"I've noticed the changes in you these past months." At that, she paused, tilting her head slightly before finally meeting his gaze. "You have?"

"Yes." He took another step forward, clasping his hands behind his back. "You've been… more composed. More focused.It's clear you've been working hard."

A flicker of something unreadable passed through her expression. Slowly, she closed the book, placing it neatly on the table before her. "And what, exactly, do you make of these changes?"

He hesitated, his gaze flickering toward the crackling fire before returning to her. "I wanted to acknowledge your efforts. It seems you've taken strides to improve yourself."

A ghost of a smile curved her lips—one that didn't reach her eyes. "An olive branch, then?" His brow furrowed slightly. "I'm trying to extend a hand of understanding, Delphia."

"'Understanding.'" She leaned back in her chair, arms crossing loosely over her chest. "That's an interesting word to use. Tell me, Father, did you offer this same 'understanding' when you remarried only three years after my mother's death?" A flicker of discomfort crossed his face, but he remained silent. "Or when you allowed a new wife and new children into this house while leaving me an afterthought?"

She continued, her tone deceptively light. "Did you show me 'understanding' when you decided that I no longer needed your attention because I was expected to 'adjust' on my own? When you allowed me to be cast aside? Hmm?"

His grip on the back of a chair tightened. "Delphia, that's not—"

"And when you informed me of my engagement?" She pressed, cutting him off, her voice unwavering. "There was no discussion. No explanation. Just a formal announcement, like I was another contract to be signed and sealed." She let out a hollow laugh, shaking her head. "Even in the privacy of my own quarters, I was never truly seen. The only things that ever knew my thoughts were my diary I called upon when no one else would listen."

His jaw tensed, the weight of her words settling over him. "I won't deny my past decisions," he said after a moment. "I did what I thought was best for the family—"

"'The family,'" she echoed with quiet amusement, her voice sharper than before as it cut him off. "You mean your family, the Vosswell Family. The one you built after mine crumbled. The one that had no place for me."

A muscle in his jaw twitched, but he did not refute her. Instead, he exhaled slowly. "You were never meant to be forgotten,Delphia."

"And yet… I was," she countered simply. "I learned to navigate a world where my 'father' was nothing more than a distant figure in my life. No guidance; No reassurance. Just expectation upon expectation." She tilted her head, studying him. "And now that I've become someone of 'worth'—now that I am no longer the foolish girl pining for approval—you wish to acknowledge me?"

"It's not like that." His voice had softened, though there was something uneasy in the way he stood—his usual confidence slightly unsteady.

"Then what is it like, Father?" Delphia asked gently, her gaze piercing. "You see me now because others do. You offer me acknowledgment now because it benefits you."

He stiffened at her accusation, but to his credit, he did not deny it. "You've shown a level of growth that I didn't expect. It's admirable."

Her laugh was light but devoid of warmth. "How flattering." Silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken thoughts. Then, Duke Vosswell took a step closer, his expression unreadable. "I am not asking for forgiveness, Delphia. I am asking if we can move forward."

She considered him for a long moment. "And what would 'moving forward' look like to you, Father?" She asked, her tone steady. "Would it be another performance? Another attempt to mold me into the 'perfect' daughter you once wanted?"

He exhaled sharply. "I don't expect perfection. I want to see you succeed. To thrive."

Delphia stood, her chair scraping softly against the floor as she pushed it back. "Then perhaps the best thing you can do is let me be."

His eyes narrowed slightly, but he gave a small nod. "If that's what you wish." She picked up her book, tucking it under her arm.

As she moved toward the door, she paused, glancing over her shoulder. "For what it's worth, I appreciate the gesture. But it would have meant more if it was said ten years ago." To the right person, she thought. Without waiting for a response, she left the library, her steps steady and resolute.

Behind her, Duke Vosswell remained in the room, his gaze fixed on the fire as the weight of her words settled over him.

*

The brisk spring air nipped at Delphia's cheeks as she stepped out of the carriage at the Magic Tower; She had on a light-weight overcoat covering the beautiful violet dress she was wearing, her heels clicking faintly on the street.

The towering spire loomed above her, its ancient stone etched with runes that shimmered faintly against the overcast sky. She pulled her jacket tighter around her shoulders as she entered the building, the familiar hum of magic in the air instantly grounding her. She made her way upstairs, towards the room Zypher had reserved for the both of them.

Today was important.

Even though her classes had halted at the Tower, that didn't mean that Delphia stopped learning and practicing with Zypher during downtime. After a few relentless weeks, she felt ready to push her limits once again. Her conversation with Duke Vosswell lingered in her mind, a tangle of emotions she hadn't yet sorted through. But here, within the walls of the Magic Tower, she could focus entirely on herself—on her growth, her power, her future.

The training chamber Zypher had reserved for her was vast, its high arched walls flooding the space with pale arcane light. The air buzzed with latent energy, and the polished stone floor seemed to echo with the footsteps of countless Mages who had trained here before her.

Waiting near the far end of the room was Zypher, his maroon eyes sharp and expectant as he leaned casually against a table covered with scrolls and maps.

"You're late," he teased as she approached, a faint smirk tugging at his lips as he knew this 'new' Delphia had a penchant for punctuality. "I had to deal with my father," Delphia replied frustratedly, shrugging off her overcoat and draping it over a nearby chair. "It was… enlightening." She said snidely.

Zypher raised an eyebrow, his expression curious. "And how did that go?"

"As well as you'd expect," she said, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. "He's trying to 'move forward,' but I'm not inclined to play along."

"Smart," Zypher said, nodding approvingly. "Duke Vosswell doesn't strike me as the type to offer anything without strings attached."

"Exactly," Delphia agreed, her tone carrying a hint of weariness. She gestured toward the scrolls and maps on the table. "But enough about him. What's the plan for today?"

Zypher pushed off the table and crossed his arms, his smirk fading into a more serious expression. "The plan is for you to break through to the Fifth Circle. You're close, Delphie. I can feel it." Her heart quickened at his words, though she kept her expression neutral. "You're sure I'm ready?"

"I wouldn't have suggested it if I wasn't," he replied, his tone firm but reassuring. "You've already surpassed what most Mages your age can accomplish. This is the next step." Delphia nodded, determination settling over her. She stepped into the center of the room, closing her eyes and steadying her breathing. The faint hum of magic in the air became more pronounced as she began to focus, her mind tuning out everything except the energy flowing within her.

Zypher circled her slowly, his gaze sharp and attentive. "Start by grounding yourself. Feel the mana in your core and let it expand outward. Don't rush. Control is more important than speed."

Delphia inhaled deeply, drawing her focus inward. She visualized the mana within her, a swirling current of energy that pulsed in time with her heartbeat. Slowly, she guided it outward, letting it flow through her limbs and into the air around her.

"Good," Zypher said softly. "Now, push further. Tap into the connection you've built with your element. Let the air respond to you."

The wind stirred around her, faint at first but gradually growing stronger. Delphia felt the familiar pull of her magic, the way it seemed to dance at her fingertips, waiting for her command. She raised her hands, guiding the currents with careful precision.

"Keep your focus," Zypher instructed. "Don't just direct the energy—become one with it."

She nodded, her brows furrowing in concentration. The air around her began to hum, swirling in intricate patterns that mirrored the small tremors of her hands. It was exhilarating and terrifying all at once, the sheer power of it threatening to overwhelm her.

But she didn't falter.

With a final push, Delphia felt a shift—a deep, resonant click that reverberated through her entire being. Her magic surged, expanding in a way that felt both natural and transformative. The wind around her stilled, the room falling silent as the energy settled. When she opened her eyes, she saw Zypher watching her with a proud expression. For a moment, neither of them spoke.

"You did it," he said finally, a note of warmth in his voice. "Fifth Circle."

Delphia exhaled slowly, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "I never imagined something like this could be possible." Her tone was tinged with melancholy, thoughts drifting back to her long time on Earth.

Before she could say anything more, Zypher crossed the room to stand before her, planting a quick kiss to her lips. "And now," he said after he pulled away, his tone shifting to something lighter, "we celebrate."

She raised an eyebrow as he pulled a bottle of wine from beneath the desk in the room. "Celebrate? I thought we'd be diving straight into strategy."

"There's always time for strategy," he replied with a smirk. "But tonight, you've earned a break." Delphia couldn't help but smile at his words, the weight of her accomplishment settling over her. For the first time in what felt like forever, she allowed herself to feel a flicker of pride. As they gathered their things and prepared to leave the chamber, Zypher's gaze lingered on her, his expression softening. "You're stronger than you realize, Delphie. Don't forget that."

His words stayed with her as they walked down the Tower's winding corridors, a quiet reminder of how far she'd come—and how much further she was determined to go.

April was already upon them. And with that, the last plot point that Delphia remembered from The Rose of Avalon.

From what the school was promoting, it was a grand duel-event where discussions will be taking place inside for a majority of the children's parents, while outside, there will be a fierce battle ensuing for final rankings for the children themselves.

It was an extra-curricular activity that one could enroll in, that if placing in any of the categories, they could use that credit towards their own grades, really motivating those who were lacking behind. Delphia had no need to join as she managed to turn her grades around completely, so she was free to spectate on either event.

Their iminent event, however, was the precursor Royal Banquet that every Summit and Tournament followed. Zypher realized that this event is where those few whispers he's been looking for are lurking, cinching those final deviations that occurred from Delphia's new actions.