The Empress's departure was quick. Silence... that's all there was for a few minutes. Grim stared at the chest. Trying to process all the information.
"Is she always going sneak arpund like that?" he asked.
A smile came from Rowan's face. "The Empress has a talent for making timely apperances."
"Creepy is what it is," Grim muttered, then gestured to the chest. "So what now? Do I start learning these techniques right away?"
Rowan shook his head. "First, we need to organize the scrolls and determine a proper training sequence. Caius was... eccentric in his teaching methods."
"You mean he was a mess," Grim said, remembering the boastful, rambling tone of the letter.
"I wouldn't quite phrase it hat way, but yes." Rowan knelt beside the chest and began carefully removing scrolls. "My grandfather was brilliant but disorganized. He created techniques faster than he could properly document them."
Grim sat cross-legged beside his father, examining the collection. Each scroll had a small label attached—some in the same bold handwriting as the letter, others in neater, more precise script that Grim assumed belonged to later family members who had organized the techniques.
"What about these?" Grim pointed to the two swords next time the chest.
"Ah," Rowan's expression grew solemn. "Those are Sunfire and Luna, your great-grandfather's personal weapons."
Grim approached the swords. The first was a straight-bladed longsword with a golden hilt. The second was a slightly curved blade with a silver hilt decorated with crescent moon.
"Can I touch them?" Grim asked.
"You can try," Rowan said, a hint of amusement in his voice.
Grim reached for Sunfire, but the moment his fingers came within an inch of the hilt, a wave of heat pushed his hand back—not painful - but definitely a warning.
"What the hell?" he exclaimed.
"Caius imbued his weapons with his mana," Rowan explained. "They won't accept a wielder until they deem them worthy."
"So they're... alive?" Grim asked skeptically.
"Not alive. But not exactly inanimate either." Rowan gazed at the swords with respect. "Think of them as extensions of Caius's will, continuing to judge potential wielders even after his death."
"Great. Just what I needed—judgmental swords," Grim muttered.
[They're actually fascinating examples of advanced mana binding,] the voice commented. [The ability to create mana constructs that persist after death is exceedingly rare.]
"Nobody asked you," Grim thought back irritably.
Turning his attention back to the scrolls, Grim noticed one with a label that simply read "Basics." He picked it up and unrolled it to find diagrams of stance positions and mana flow patterns.
"This looks like a good place to start," he said.
Rowan nodded. "Yes. Before you can learn any of the advanced techniques, you need to master the foundational movements and mana circulation patterns unique to our family's style."
"More foundation work," Grim sighed, though without his usual bitterness. After reading Caius's letter, he better understood the importance of proper preparation.
Rowan selected several more scrolls and placed them in a neat stack. "These will be your initial study materials."
"Can I at least try one technique today?" Grim asked hopefully.
Rowan considered this. "You've already performed a mana extension similar to parts of the Aurora Flash style, albeit accidentally. I suppose a supervised attempt at the most basic form wouldn't be unreasonable."
Grim's face lit up. "Really?"
"Under strict conditions," Rowan emphasized. "And only after you've reviewed the proper form and mana control requirements."
They spent the next hour examining the basic Aurora Flash scroll, which contained detailed instructions for channeling light mana into a blade. The diagrams showed how to release it in a controlled burst rather than the continuous stream Grim had achieved with water mana.
"This is actually really well explained," Grim said, surprised by how easy it was too read.
"My grandfather might have been boastful, but he was a gifted teacher when he took the time," Rowan replied. "Many of these explanations were refined by later family members, including my father."
When they had finished reviewing the scrolls. Rowan led Grim to a small room. It appeared to be a miniature training area, with reinforced walls and a stone floor engraved with designs Grim didn't recognize.
"This space was designed for practicing the more... destructive techniques safely," Rowan explained. "Stand in the center circle."
Grim did as instructed, drawing his practice sword. The blade seemed woefully inadequate for the technique he was about to attempt, but Rowan had insisted that real weapons would come later.
"Now, remember what the scroll said," Rowan instructed from the edge of the room. "Draw light mana, not water, into your core first. Filter it, then channel it through your conduits to your arm and blade. Visualize the light bending and refracting as it builds."
Grim closed his eyes, focusing on his light affinity. Unlike water, which he sensed all around him, light felt more distant, harder to grasp. He reached out with his senses, feeling for the ambient light in the chamber—the glow from the crystals, the faint illumination seeping in from the corridor.
Gradually, he began to draw this energy toward his core. It felt different from water mana—warmer, less fluid, more like trying to gather sunbeams in his hands.
"This is harder than water," he muttered.
"Light is more elusive," Rowan agreed. "But also more potent when mastered."
After several minutes of concentration, Grim finally managed to gather enough light mana to begin the filtering process. Unlike water, which left behind a sediment-like impurity, light mana's impurities manifested as flickering, unstable energy that needed to be stabilized before it could be properly channeled.
"Fuck, this is complicated," Grim thought as he struggled to separate the stable light mana from the erratic flickers.
[You're trying to rush,] the voice advised. [Light responds to patience. Water flows; light reveals. Different approaches are needed.]
For once, Grim took the voice's advice without complaint, slowing his efforts and focusing on gently coaxing the light mana rather than forcefully drawing it in. Gradually, the energy began to stabilize, and he could direct it through his conduits to his sword arm.
The practice sword began to glow faintly as light mana suffused the wood. Grim opened his eyes, seeing the blade surrounded by a pale golden aura—nothing like the vibrant blue of his water mana, but a start nonetheless.
"Good," Rowan encouraged. "Now for the release. Remember, not a continuous stream but a sudden burst. Like a flash of lightning."
Grim took a deep breath, mentally preparing for the technique. With a sharp, horizontal slash, he released the gathered light mana.
The result was... underwhelming. A flicker of golden light emerged from the blade, briefly illuminating the room before fading almost immediately.
"That was pathetic," Grim said, disappointment evident in his voice.
"That was a beginning," Rowan corrected. "Your water affinity is naturally stronger because you've been working with it longer. Light will take time to develop."
"Great-grandfather made it sound so easy," Grim grumbled.
"Caius had a talent for making the extraordinarily difficult sound simple," Rowan said with a hint of amusement. "Even at his age, he had been practicing light techniques for decades."
Grim looked down at his practice sword, frustration bubbling up. "Maybe I need a real sword. This wooden stick isn't exactly designed for channeling light mana."
"In time," Rowan promised. "For now, this is safer. Light mana can be volatile, especially when improperly channeled."
They practiced for another hour, with Grim making marginal improvements. By the end, he could produce a flash bright enough to momentarily illuminate the entire chamber, though nothing approaching the blinding burst described in the scroll.
"Enough for today," Rowan finally said. "You've made good progress for a first attempt."
"Not good enough," Grim muttered.
"Your impatience will only hinder you," Rowan said, his tone sharpening. "Remember what happened when you pushed too hard when dual cultivating mana? You collapsed for two days."
"I know, I know," Grim sighed.
They gathered the selected scrolls and prepared to leave the chamber. As Rowan closed the chest and reactivated its seals, Grim took one last look at the swords—Sunfire and Luna—still standing silent sentinel over the Ambrose legacy.
"You will submit to me swords. If you crave battle and to be used. You will recognize me as your master." As Grim began to turn around, he could feel a small chill hit his neck. He turned and noticed Luna had moved only slightly from its original position.
"Father," he said as they reached their quarters, "did the Empress know great-grandfather?"
Rowan paused before answering. "She would have been quite young when he died, but yes, I believe they met. The imperial family has always maintained close ties with House Ambrose—at least until our exile."
"She seemed very interested in what his letter said."
"Of course she would be. Caius was the empire's greatest defender. Any insight into his thoughts would be valuable to the Crown."
Grim wasn't entirely satisfied with this explanation, but he let it drop for now. He had more immediate concerns—like figuring out how to master light mana more quickly.
"Do you think great-grandfather was right? That someone deliberately targeted our family to eliminate the light affinity from our bloodline?"
Rowan's expression grew troubled. "I don't know. It seemed far-fetched when I first heard rumors of his suspicions. But now..." He gestured to Grim. "The fact that you have both light and water affinity, after generations without light, does suggest something unusual at work."
"Something unusual like what?"
"I'm not sure. Perhaps destiny. Perhaps something more deliberate. Whatever the case, Caius's warning should be heeded. We must be cautious about whom we trust."
"Even the Empress?" Grim asked quietly.
Rowan's hands stilled. "The Crown has always protected our family... until it didn't. Remember that loyalty to the empire and loyalty to the person wearing the crown aren't always the same thing."
It was the closest to criticism of the Empress that Grim had ever heard from his father. The implications were troubling.
[Political intrigue and ancient warnings,] the voice commented. [Your simple training regimen has become considerably more complicated.]
"Story of my life," Grim thought back. "Can't even be reborn without getting caught up in some cosmic power struggle."
[At least you're not bored,] the voice replied with what almost sounded like amusement.
Grim couldn't argue with that.
Well, the nobles were about to learn in a couole weeks that fucking with the van Ambrose line was a very, very bad idea.