Rene followed the path for twenty or so more minutes; finally, he saw the pale moonlight break through the canopy as it illuminated the clearing.


    Never in his life was he so glad to be back at the manor; he tried his best to wipe off the mud from his skirt and boots as he approached the manor; a thousand eyes looked at him as the house itself noticed his presence.


    The doors swung open before he even got to the stairs. Rene smiled and broke the silence of the clearing with a relieved laugh, "Oh... I''ve missed you too."


    With an endearing voice, he spoke to the manor itself as he walked inside, the doors quietly closing behind him.


    Rene looked down at his clothes, his white blouse now turned a mixture of grey, red, and brown after the scuffle, his boots were heavily scratched and filthy with both dried mud and fresh moss.


    He sighed in frustration; he knew he didn''t have a proper change of clothes since he had outgrown most of the garments that he used to wear before leaving to attend the academy.


    His choices were either to walk around the house in the nude or to lock himself in his quarters till his clothes were dried; he quickly made his way to the bathroom after taking his boots off.


    Rene made sure the door was locked before he filled the bathtub up with a shallow amount of water. Stripping down into the bare and nude, Rene threw all his clothes into the water before he shredded soap into it.


    There was a proper way to wash clothes, a way he wasn''t familiar with, but he did remember his mother doing it like this on a few rare occasions.


    Once he made sure all the mud and filth was washed off, Rene drained the tub of the water before filling it up again, making sure that none of the filthy water would be absorbed in the clothes.


    He did the same process twice more before he was left with a roughly clean pair of clothes; he brought his blouse close to his nose to do one final check of cleanliness.


    There was only a faint idea of the soap''s scent on the clothes; Rene was well aware this was a horribly botched attempt at replicating how the clothes should be washed, but keeping them covered in mud, sweat, and blood was never an option.


    He wrung out the water from the clothes before he took them in his hands. Rene carried the clothes outside; if it were not for his boots, he would be fully in the nude.


    But Rene didn''t care; there were no prying eyes here in the clearing, and the forest wouldn''t let just anyone walk in.


    The moonlight illuminated the area around him, letting him hang up his clothes on the clothesline with decent visibility of his surroundings. Once the damp garments were left hanging and left to dry, Rene took a look around.


    The clearing was as still and silent as always, not even a bird in sight at this time of night; there was only the manor, the stars, and Rene.


    He looked down at himself; the paleness of his skin was only complimented by the faint light of the moon, the sparse freckles on his skin looked almost like the stars that littered the night sky, and in an ironically cruel but still somehow funny way, the sigils carved into his torso and arms almost formed the rough points of the Gemini constellation.


    Rene chuckled at the last observation he made as he slowly made his way inside, finally feeling the cold air outside take effect on him.


    As he took off his boots once more, a ghastly realization washed over him: while his clothes were drying, he truly had nothing to wear.


    Quickly walking up the stairs with a nearly silent step, Rene made his way to his quarters and made his way to his wardrobe even faster; he nearly flipped the large container upside down searching for a pair of clothes that fit.


    No such luck would come to Rene, though; all he could find was a pair of underwear that was a size too small and a pair of pants that were somehow a size bigger. He scratched his head trying to recall where he even got them.


    There was no reason to dig deeper into his thirteen-year-old self''s wardrobe, since he knew he had long outgrown everything.


    Rene cursed himself for not stopping somewhere along his way back home to buy new clothes, but on the other hand, Rene never knew he would have to leave his school uniforms behind.


    Apparently the lack of resources after the war hit the academy too; there was no use crying over spilt milk now, though, and he knew that.


    Perhaps he could go back into town tomorrow and find somewhere where he could buy a few sets of new garments for himself; maybe he could even use it as an excuse to meet up with Marina again.


    He braced himself as he put on the pair of small underwear and large pants, a truly ghastly combination; the pants were only barely hanging on by his hips, which made him even more frustrated.


    But luckily the only thing that seemed to fit him after these six years was his old black leather belt. Rene breathed a sigh of relief; at least his lower half was now covered, and he wouldn''t be walking around in the nude.


    He made his way back downstairs, picking up the basket he had left at the entrance and carrying it through the dining hall and into the kitchen. He put the basket down onto the preparation table in the middle of the kitchen.


    Rene took a look around; he remembered how he used to watch his mother cook when she was younger and how he tried to replicate it once he had grown a bit older; Rene also remembered how miserably he failed at it.


    "Oh dear, if anything in this home is a fire hazard, it''s you..."


    Carmen''s words reverberated in Rene''s mind, causing him to crack a small smile.


    But tonight he would prove her wrong; he had improved in both the culinary and occult arts, and he was eager to prove himself in both, yet Rene wasn''t sure if Carmen would arrive before he cleaned up everything and finished eating.


    But on the other hand, it wouldn''t hurt him to cook a little more, to leave at least a plate of food for her; this thought bounced to a different and more pressing one,


    He was unsure of what he would even prepare; he emptied the basket onto the table and sorted out everything.


    Spices, herbs, eggs, and various other basic ingredients were sprawled out across the table now; he scratched the back of his head as he was still unsure of what to make.


    He thought sorting everything out first would make him more familiar with the kitchen''s layout.


    After he put everything in its respective place, he once more attempted to think up what he could make.


    As he scratched his head, an idea, or more so a wish, made itself clearer in his mind; his long dormant sweet tooth had awakened after six years. "Wouldn''t hurt to finish the day off with something sweet, no?"


    Rene mumbled to himself as he paced around the kitchen. He started opening nearly every cabinet in the kitchen in search of inspiration; he knew he wanted something sweet, but he wasn''t sure what.


    Eating too much sugar this late couldn''t be good; Rene wanted something light. Finally, the idea of the perfect dish had found its way into Rene''s mind.


    Crepes—they were not too sweet, not too heavy, and they were the only thing he knew how to make reliably off the top of his head.


    He grabbed a large bowl and a whisk along with the ingredients he needed; he moved everything over to the table as he tried to remember the recipe step by step.


    With a careful touch, Rene started mixing all the wet ingredients together, whisking it to create a pale yellow liquid.


    He poured flour into the bowl, the liquid becoming thicker and thicker as he mixed; he raised the whisk up and let the batter drip down into itself, making sure it was just the right consistency.


    Rene dug around the kitchen some more as he tried to find a pan or anything he could prepare the crepes on; his eyes settled on a darkly glittering cast iron skillet.


    He scratched his head as he wasn''t sure if this was the right pan to use for such a task; Rene shrugged his shoulders and spun the heavy pan in his hand as he made up his mind on using it.


    The flame on the top of the stove sprung to life as Rene put the pan on top of it; he took a flat wooden spoon from the cutlery drawer and walked over to the refrigerator.


    It was rather cramped with the addition of new groceries upon the shelves; he cut off a small amount of butter off the small plate on the top shelf before bringing the piece to the now warmed-up pan.


    After Rene lubricated the surface of the pan, he brought the bowl of batter closer to the stove and poured a small amount of it into the pan.


    He tilted the pan to the sides in a circular manner to spread the batter in a thin, even layer upon the surface; after a while, Rene flipped the crepe over and waited for it to fully finish cooking.


    He took out a plate from one of the cabinets and put the first crepe onto it; somehow it was almost perfectly cooked, thin, yellow, and lightly browned.


    Proud with his first one, Rene repeated the process back and forth until he ran out of batter.


    His efforts yielded fifteen or seventeen or so crepes, which were now sitting upon the plate he had stacked them on.


    The entire process of preparing them, he was tempted to take one and fold it up, but he withstood the temptation and waited till he ran out of batter.


    Only one question was left to be answered as he put the pan on a different part of the stove to let it cool down: What would he spread on the crepes?


    Pondering the question, Rene crossed one of his arms across his chest and held his other arm by the elbow. He leaned his head against the hand of the other arm, but he had forgotten he still had the wound on his cheek.


    Rene winced in pain as he felt up the still open wound on his face. "Blasted pain tolerance..."


    Rene mumbled to himself as he briskly made his way to the bathroom. He opened the door rather forcefully and made his way to the mirror; the wound was just as he remembered.


    Coarsely and sloppily etched into the side of his cheek, the wound would definitely become infected if he didn''t disinfect it soon; Rene cursed himself for not doing it earlier.


    He rummaged around the medicine cabinet; despite it being well organized, he somehow couldn''t find the antiseptic.


    Then it dawned on him; his mother had no use for antiseptics.


    She probably never considered buying a new bottle after Rene started his studies and most likely didn''t think he''d need it when he came back.


    Rene tried to find a different option; he knew water wasn''t enough, and with his amateur vitamancy, he couldn''t fully seal the wound, which in and of itself wouldn''t be smart, as if he sealed it while it was still unclean, that would only cause more problems.


    He also knew he couldn''t use fire to cauterize the wound, as that would no doubt lead to even more problems. Rene knew alcohol could be used to clean his wound, but he had none on hand.If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    An idea sparked in his head as he walked out of the bathroom; he knew Carmen had an extensive collection of both wine and spirits alike, but the problem was he would have to go into her quarters. "It''s an emergency; she wouldn''t mind... right?"


    Rene spoke to himself and the house itself as he slowly made his way to her quarters. Slowly he reached for the large, ominous door''s handle; a chill ran down his spine as his hand made contact with the silver handle, and a feeling of uneasiness overtook him.


    Despite the feeling, the door was strangely not locked; perhaps his mother didn''t think he would go into her quarters like this.


    He walked into her own personal hall; he couldn''t remember what most of the doors led to, but he guessed most of them were for book and potion storage.


    At first he thought that maybe he could find a potion to help him, but then he realized he still needed to clean the wound before letting it mend.


    And so Rene walked over to the biggest pair of doors in the hallway, the only pair of doors that were familiar to him, the doors that led to Carmen''s room.


    Steeling himself further, Rene pushed the large doors open and was instantly startled as the house lit every candle in the room ablaze; the sudden brightness frightened him, but he quickly regained his composure.


    The room was familiar to him yet so distant in his memory; his eyes drifted around, taking in the sight of the large bedroom; slowly they gravitated towards the rather large bed.


    He walked over to it and inspected the neatly made purple-tinted silk bedsheets. He had truly forgotten how big the bed itself was; in a rough estimate, Rene calculated that about six of him could fit comfortably on the bed, eight of him if they were bunched up like sardines.


    Rene shook his head; he knew of his mother''s stature and need for a bigger bed, but this felt like overkill even to him.


    Rene shook his head again as he realized he trailed off, and it probably wasn''t wise to stick around this room too long. He looked around in every part of the room trying to find a trace of any spirit he could use to clean his wound.


    But he had no such luck; the bottles were either not there anymore or so well hidden that there would be no chance in hell of him finding them.


    But then, another idea fell over Rene; she probably wouldn''t keep her stash of booze in her room. He made his way back into the hallway of her quarters, and the candles extinguished behind him.


    He tried opening the other doors in the hallway, which were all strangely locked; frustration washed over him as he once again went around the hallway, frantically trying every door again.


    "Please, could you unlock the door? Just this time!" Rene started pleading with the house itself as he was starting to get desperate; he had gotten so sidetracked in his cleaning and cooking that he forgot to treat his wound, and he knew if Carmen saw it, there would be no chance in hell she would let him go into town unaccompanied again.


    The very thought frustrated him; despite the fact he understood why she didn''t let him go alone when he was younger, he felt that if she barred him from going now, it would be ridiculous.


    Even if it was just a mere guess of what could happen, a part of Rene kept telling him that his anxiety wasn''t unguided.


    The house seemingly felt his frustration and unlocked one of the doors. Rene jumped up and quickly ran to the door. "Thank you, thank you so much!"


    He exclaimed as he pulled the handle down; he pushed the door open and walked into the cold room.


    It smelled of lacquered wood and various notes of scented alcohol; the room itself was three degrees colder than the rest of the house, and even if Rene didn''t fully understand how that worked, he was unconcerned as he scanned around trying to find the least expensive-looking spirit.


    Cognac, whiskey, brandy, and various other spirits littered the shelves of the room; everything looked either too spiced or too expensive-looking to be used.


    He felt even more frustrated as he kept walking around the room; his eyes fell upon a shining bottle of clear liquid, and he instantly felt some recognition of it.


    Rene walked closer to it and picked it off the shelf; the bottle wasn''t what he thought, but it looked strong enough to clean his wound.


    He quickly made his way back to the bathroom with the bottle of gin in hand. He cupped his hand and poured out a small amount of the gin in his hand. Rene braced himself as he looked in the mirror and splashed the liquid onto the wound.


    The burning caused him to wince and groan as he let the alcohol do its thing before he washed the wound again.


    Breathing a sigh of relief, he was happy that he managed to clean the wound, but a strange curiosity washed over him as he looked at the bottle.


    It didn''t smell as strong as he was used to spirits smelling. He took the bottle of gin in hand and inspected it closer; he wasn''t sure of what it was made of or how it would taste.


    He remembered the dandelion spirits that were brewed by hunters some distance away from the academy; he remembered how one time this same curiosity came over him as he saw the hunters distill their booze.


    Rene remembered how he waited for them to go away before he snuck closer to the small shack they kept bringing the bottles into; he remembered how strongly it smelled and how it burned both his nose and eyes.


    He also remembered how foul it tasted when he decided to take a swig of the drink; Rene was always aware of the power of herbs and flowers, but that day Rene learned that flowers could be used for far more than potions and ointments.


    But just because of that fact, it didn''t mean he enjoyed the taste, if there even was a taste to it.


    Now he was wondering what the gin would taste like; would it taste just like the numbing burning nothingness of the dandelion spirit, or would it actually have a more complex note to it?


    Rene brought his lips up to the bottle and let the liquid seep into his mouth and onto his tongue.


    It was strange; it still felt numbing just as the spirit he tried those few years ago did, but somehow this one was more pleasant; instead of a rough punch of burning numbness upon his mouth, the gin felt more like a warm suggestion.


    The thing that surprised Rene even more was the fact that there was indeed a more complex taste to it; there were hints and notes of various spices and other tastes he couldn''t quite put his finger on.


    Rene realized his mother might figure out he used the gin for a bit more than simply cleaning a wound, and he started to panic; he quickly wiped the top of the bottle with a towel and closed it before making his way back to the room he took the bottle from.


    He put the bottle back on the shelf and walked out of the room, hearing the door lock behind him as he walked into the hallway and towards the exit of Carmen''s quarters.


    Making his way over to the kitchen again, Rene realized that the crepes he made had gone cold; he groaned in annoyance as he picked one of the crepes off of the plate.


    He brought it onto a different plate, and another realization dawned on him: What would he even spread on them if he even had something to spread on them?


    Rene started searching through the many cabinets and pantries, but he couldn''t find anything to put on the crepes.


    Finally, Rene started digging through the fridge as he remembered jam was one of the things he bought at the market. He pulled out the jar of deep red jam. He was unsure of what it was made of, but hunger was now starting to creep up on him even more, and he knew he would find out the type after he tasted it.


    He spread a thin layer of jam on the surface of the crepe and folded it into a triangular shape. Rene repeated this three more times with three more crepes before deciding four would be just enough to satiate him.


    Rene brought the plate of crepes into the kitchen and sat down at the table; he had forgotten how it feels to eat alone, as he always had some kind of company in the past.


    His eyes wandered to the clock that sat mounted on the wall; it was now very late in the night, or very early in the morning; Rene could never tell how to see it.


    But either way, the clock showed it was three past midnight, and there was still a lot of time before the sun would rise and Carmen would come back.


    Rene sighed as he took a bite of the now-cold crepe; despite the fact they weren''t exactly fresh anymore, Rene had to compliment himself on his work, as he had made a rather good batch of crepes.


    One after another, the crepes he had prepared were eaten by him until they were completely gone. His hunger satisfied, Rene simply sat in his chair and stared into blank space.


    His thoughtless state was interrupted as his eyes wandered towards an unfamiliar addition to the table; there, in the middle of the table, sat a glittering black box with a piece of paper on top of it.


    Rene got up and traced his hand along the smooth surface of the large table as he walked towards the middle of it; he picked up the piece of paper that sat upon the box.


    As he brought it closer to his eyes, he realized the paper was a letter; he took the box in his free hand and walked back to his chair. Rene sat down and let his eyes wander over the letter.


    "My dearest Rene, I am terribly sorry for not doing this earlier. But I am writing this letter to wish you a late happy birthday. Furthermore, I wish to apologize for the rather uncouth way I ended our conversation last night."


    Rene reached the halfway point of the short letter; he felt strange as per the fact he wasn''t used to people feeling remorse after they had done him wrong, and so Rene continued to read.


    "It was unjust of me to treat you as if you''re any lesser simply because you didn''t find your specialty yet, and I am even more regretful for treating your undeniable skill in transmutation as useless."


    If it were a few days earlier, Rene would deny the fact that his skill was in any way useful, but after he used his ability earlier yesterday to possibly save his life twice, he was excited to tell Carmen all about it.


    "Credit where credit is due, I do say you are most determined when it comes to your pursuit of knowledge and skill, and of course, as your mother, I wish to help you to the best of my ability."


    Rene continued to read, seeing how the next part of the letter was written in a more noticeable and bold manner; he prepared himself before moving forward into the letter, as it had already surprised him at nearly every turn.


    "Thus I have decided to allow you access to the manor''s study, and I hope my next statement doesn''t burst your excitement. The list of books and tomes you will be allowed will be curated by me, and you are NOT to touch any books without my permission. I hope you like the small gift I have left for you in the box you will find under this letter. Best of luck with your future studies, dear. - Carmen"


    Rene put down the letter and inspected the glittering black box; it was sealed by a tightly wrapped bow and was surprisingly heavy.


    He pulled at the bow and unwrapped it, leading to the top of the box opening and falling onto the floor. "Merde..."


    He said as he leaned over and picked the top up, noticing there was writing on the inside of it, "Dear, I forgot to say it in the letter. The list of books I made for you will be found on the studies table."


    Rene chuckled to himself as he slowly shook his head and put the top of the box next to the unwrapped bow. He looked inside the box, and his eyes instantly gravitated towards the glowing silver key. He took it in his hand and inspected it closer; it was no doubt the key for the study, and despite its simplicity, it still looked rather elegant.


    Putting the key next to the box, Rene looked into the box''s contents again; the only thing left on the small pillow inside the box was a gilded necklace with an oval-shaped rose quartz crystal in the middle of it.


    Rene took both sides of the chain and inspected the crystal closer; the color went along really well with the glittering chain; furthermore, the polished rose quartz reminded him of his own eyes.


    He put the necklace on and cracked a small smile; even if it was a late gift, it was still more than welcome.


    But Rene wasn''t as excited for the piece of jewelry as he was for the prospect of having access to the monolithic collection of books in the study, even if it was a very limited and no doubt cherry-picked list.


    With a haste in his step, he quickly made his way towards the study, nearly stumbling as he rushed over to the door and put the key into the lock.


    The key twisted itself and opened the door for him before it pushed itself out into Rene''s hand. He pushed the large engraved doors open and walked into the study with a slow step.


    He was as awestruck as he was yesterday; the small glimpses he saw when he was younger were no match compared to actually having access to the room.


    Carmen''s table stood a couple of meters ahead of him; it faced the door that led into the study, its large size, which was populated by books, gave off a feeling of being well used.


    Rene sat down in the large cushioned chair, which was almost calling for him at this point. He felt excited as he pulled himself closer to the table and picked up the list of books that was left for him and started reading the names of the books, along with the position in which they sat on the shelves.