To say that I had grown up strangely compared to most three year olds would be a severe understatement.

  The maids had commented on how tall I was. I hadn’t been near other kids, but when I saw Ben in passing during walks down the hallway, I was sure I was taller than him. He still would only sneak peeks at me, a habit I had learned to ignore.

  My body was straight where I should be round. I had muscle definitions in my arms, my legs, and my abs. My face when I looked into the mirror didn’t have any of the chubby cheeks that I knew toddlers should. Instead it was just creepy eyes staring back.

  Everyone said I looked so refined, but I knew that was just an underhand way of saying I was a freak.

  I didn’t care what they thought.

  My father was again too busy to attend my birthday celebration. There wasn’t one. I celebrated with another picnic and kite flying with Meridol and Beatrice on the hill. I was happy with that.

  Prince Anthony did send me a gaudy, diamond and sapphire encrusted brooch. But that was delivered to Meridol by a dark-hooded man in the middle of the night. Apparently, he and his mother were part of a different faction now, so this was a big no-no.

  I was getting better at catching bugs. My shadow fingers were now quick enough to catch a bee mid-air and precise enough that I could release it unharmed. I was also big enough to go through some of Joan’s usual training regimen, like push-ups and running, though Beatrice would still nag at me and follow me with a towel when I do so.

  My attributes had shot up so that they were all at least 20, though the rate of increase might have dropped off a bit recently.

  After a bit of reflection, I realized that my perception of these points might be a little skewed. The baseline of 20 points in The Hundred Years War are for Generals, not regular people. They are supposed to be the best of the best, leaders amongst men. So me reaching 20 by age three was probably a huge anomaly which wouldn’t be possible without [God’s Chosen], [Sync Penalty] and perhaps even [Dark Gift].

  “You really did learn the spell from the book,” Meridol said as she rubbed at her forehead in exasperation.

  “I didn’t lie,” I answered casually after the glowing, translucent, semi-spherical barrier faded in front of me.

  We were standing out in a harvested wheat field off in a remote corner of the estate. Just the two of us under the evening sun with barrels of hay around us.

  “I thought you meant learn as in knowing how the spell works. Not actually casting it.” She studied my face, slowly shaking her head. “That book is supposed to be a primer for structured magic. The spell was just an example to aspire to. Children don’t start casting spells until they’re over twice your age.”

  “Then what did you think I was doing in the crib?”

  “Wild magic, some children are known to have innate abilities. But to actually learn and cast a spell, from a book no less?”

  I shrugged, trying to appear innocent. “I just followed the description in the book a few times, and then it suddenly worked.”

  Okay, maybe a few times might be close to a hundred times. After I successfully created the shield, the new spell message appeared as usual.

  Yes, someone who played a game over two hundred times just so he could win with his favorite character, just might be a bit obsessive-compulsive.

  “Alright, what else do you know?”

  Aiming an open palm at a barrel of hay, I fired off a low powered [Mana Bolt], sending a spray of yellow straw into the air. I didn’t want to use [Dazzle] on my Mama, and showing off my shadow spells might tip her over the edge.

  “Did you learn that from a book as well?” She said, watching the straw settle.

  “No… I learned it by watching Winthrop.”

  “You can see… spells.” She was cradling her head again, looking pained. “When did Winthrop even cast that in front of you?”

  “Back when we saw them at the training ground. He was showing Lord Ben the spell.”

  Meridol groaned. “You weren’t even One then. What am I to do with you girl? You’re too much.”

  She took my hands in hers. “You don’t even have a class set yet, and already you’re beyond the reach of even those of higher levels.”

  I wanted to tell her that I already have a class, that of Sorcerer. I always get tongue tied when I try to tell her about my true nature, that of being a Dark Sorcerer, and not even truly human.

  Something had always stopped me. It could be the [Dark Binding], but it could also be the other half of what I am: the demon sword.

  Still, what she said did make me curious. How did classes and levels work for everyone else in this world?

  “Do you have a class Mama? And a level?”

  “I do, I’m a Wizard. And I’ve reached level ten.”

  “Was it assigned to you? Does your class and level show up in front of you in glowing letters?”

  Meridol covered a light laugh with one hand. “You sure have quite an imagination, my child. But you pick your class when you present yourself to the Orb of Etching. It will show you a list of what best suits you.” She smiled fondly at some memory that seemed to have taken hold of her. “I did it at the Academy when I was fourteen. Others had done it earlier, but you’re still much too young. You wouldn’t qualify for anything.”

  “And you just know your level?”

  “The orb will tell you. There are also spells that will reveal it, but those are unpleasantly invasive. Most however just keep track of it themselves. The sensation of leveling up is one you don’t usually forget. It’s rather exhilarating.”

  “How do you…” I groped around my mind for the right word. It was strange talking about game mechanics in person, something which never happened in the other world. “Gain? Levels.”

  “It’s different for every class. Wizards gain experience through studies and making discoveries, but some combat helps as well.”

  I nodded, listening. It was hard to imagine her doing any form of combat.

  “Winthrop on the other hand is a mage and they gain experience through fighting and the use of spells.”

  The sun was setting over the horizon, casting a deep bruised red over the clouds above. I wondered what a Sorcerer’s means of getting experience was. My experience hadn’t gone up at all since that tutorial quest. I brought up my status screen.

  I’d come a ways. Ironically, my highest attribute was now [Intellect], which was no longer affected by [Sync Penalty]. That meant my growth in it would be halved now, but Mama had gotten me quite into reading, and my constant abuse of multicasting [Shadow Fingers] seemed to help as well.

  All my skills were rank II now, and I was sure that [Shadow Mastery II] and [Multi Cast II] were due to that constant multicasting I mentioned. I wasn’t just using chained [Shadow Fingers] to peek around the House anymore, but also to lift me up into hard-to-reach hiding spots, and grab interesting books from the library, even the ones in the locked sections.

  Sometimes, I’d sneak in a late-night reading session. I'd gotten really good at seeing with my dark fingers now and could read books remotely through them with my eyes closed in bed.

  Of course, Mama had taught me: what good is reading without tea and sweets? So, I’d have another chain of fingers ferry over a steaming teacup and cookies from the kitchen. Hiding them from the maids by moving across the ceiling was the fun part. Every now and then, I’d spill a splash of tea or drop half a cookie, and Beatrice would scare them by saying it was ghosts.

  The constant practice was definitely paying off.

  The reduced Mana cost and Spell Failure from their previous ranks meant I could practice multicasting spells even more. It was a little addictive.

  The copious amount of [Shadow Fingers] I cast finally ranked up my dark spells to [Dark Spells II]. But nothing changed except the warning message was now gone from my newest spell.

  I was so proud of acquiring that spell. It happened one day while I was sitting surrounded by dolls and decided I wanted to swing a sword. Tired of broomsticks, I waited until the maids weren't paying attention and tried forming a sword out of solid shadow tendrils. My first few attempts produced something that looked like a stick, but I eventually formed one that resembled an actual sword from my memories.

  When I held the sword in my hand, the spell acquired message popped up. It had the 'behaving erratically' warning back then, but I was more focused on the fact that it would add my [Magic] to my attacks.

  This was perfect for me, since my [Magic] stat was more than double my [Atk].

  I cast more [Mana Bolt] and [Force Shield] to rank up my [Spells II]. Again, the rank-up didn’t seem to do much except clear the warning message on [Force Shield]. Hopefully, it meant that spell was more reliable now.

  [Shadow Spike] still had that warning message, but I was able to cast it consistently by manually forming the shadow through the flow of magic.

  Everything looked good on my status screen, though the one thing I couldn’t ignore now was that my Soul Points had dropped into the single digits.

  I had no idea what would happen if it hit zero.

  —

  The next morning, I saw Mama and Winthrop talking out in the garden. It looked a little heated, but she looked tense, not angry. One of her hands was clutching her dress tight.

  I was tempted to send a [Shadow Fingers] to listen in. But what if this was something about her family, which she never told me of? It didn’t feel right to intrude.

  I trust her to tell me if it was something I needed to know.

  My fingers flipped the page, and my attention returned to the book on the ancients.

  When Meridol came back to my room, she had her hands clasped at her waist. “My Lady, Master Winthrop requests that you join him and Lord Ben on a trip to the neighboring town.”

  “Okay,” I snapped the book shut, and when I raised my eyes I caught sight of the anxiety on her face. “Is something the matter Ma—” I cut myself off, noticing the other maids in the room. She wouldn’t be happy if I didn’t address her properly in front of others. “Meridol?”

  “Nothing really… It’s just that he wishes for you to go alone, with just them.”

  I nearly laughed. After all this time. “Oh! it’s one of those family things.”

  Beatrice and the maids wouldn’t let me leave when they found out I was going out to town. Instead I was pinned down. Several girls attacked my hair, which they would never let me cut! Others took on my nails, my face and the rest layered outfits over me.

  In the end, I was dressed in a chemise of sheer-white satin, with a burgundy kirtle of fine wool hugging my body tight over it. Then over that I wore a sleeveless surcoat of supple tanned leather which ran down my back to my calves.

  And that wasn’t including my intricately braided hair which was sculpted over my head like some kind of art piece.

  It was way too much.

  Winthrop seemed to agree. His jaw was hanging when he saw me. He didn’t say anything as I walked toward our house carriage in my measured, balanced steps—Mama told me to be good and stay graceful.

  I nearly had to open the door myself before he finally recovered and took my hand, yanking the door open with a hurried jerk.

  Ben was already inside, and I took the bench seat opposite to him. An awkwardness hung in the air, he had his eyes fixed to the ground.

  Yup, I am definitely taller than him.

  Winthrop stepped into the vehicle and immediately winced when he saw our seating arrangement. “Umm… listen, you two should sit next to each other. It’ll be a long trip and you can… converse.”

  Ben didn’t make any attempt to move. I shrugged and hopped off my seat, my tiny heeled boots clicking on the carriage floor. Then I plopped down on the velvet cushion next to Ben.

  The carriage lurched forward, hooves clattering steadily over the road, and Ben still hadn’t lifted his head. I looked expectantly at Winthrop, unsure what to do. He waved his hands up into the air, looking a little like a monkey.

  What does that even mean?

  I gave up trying to figure it out and turned to Ben sitting in his fancy golden-thread embroidered jacket with opal buttons. A standard line from Mama’s etiquette lessons might do the trick. “Good day, Lord Ben. Have you been out to the town before?”

  His head finally popped up. His eyes shot open as they looked at my face, as if just now realizing I was here. “What?! Good day, Lady… I mean sister,” he blabbered, scooting away from me. Then he grew indignant. “But yes, of course I’d been to town before! I’m seven. Why wouldn’t I?”

  I tilted my head, not quite understanding what there was to be mad about. “I don’t know…”

  Ben’s face grew flushed. His voice was high pitched. “You think I’m that sheltered?!”

  Winthrop placed a hand on his shoulder. “Relax Ben, she was just curious.”

  He readjusted his collar and jacket. “Well, she should know I’m independent. I went to town on my own once.”

  I leaned over to catch his gaze, feeling amused. “And how would I know?”

  His mouth gulped air like a fish out of water. The strained silence was amplified by the monotonous drone of hooves on the dirt road. Tired of the stifling air, I turned away to look out the window at the countryside flowing past.

  Out there were children working in the fields, hunched over under the sun, planting seeds, pulling out weeds. A farm girl straightened up and wiped the sweat from her forehead. She looked at me in the passing opulence, and I stared back.