Displaced

Chapter 114

Mizuko reclined in her chair, letting the gentlebreeze wash over her and temper the heat of the sun shining down upon her. Reaching to her side, she gently grasped theteacup and lifted it to her lips, letting the warm brew trickle between herlips as she took in the picturesque view of the rolling grasslands beforeher. Though the tea was the samehigh-quality leaves as she'd tasted hundreds of times before, by now it tasted sour on her tongue. Though the waving grasses and spotless blue sky provided the same majestic sight she'd enjoyed for months, now it only brought her dissatisfaction.

Mizuko was bored. She was tired of spending every day in the manor that was now her home. It was a very pleasant and luxurious life, to be sure—eating delicious meals cooked using expensive, high-class ingredients; sleeping upon a mattress filled with a rare moss that smelled like pine leaves and was the softest thing she'd ever lied upon; relaxing in the expansive flower garden that Pyria had ordered built to the side of the manor; even, to some degree, being waited on hand and foot—but even the grandest of lives grew tiresome and monotonous without variety.

Having been given a second chance at life, a second youth to savor—feeling like you were seventy counted as youth for somebody as old as she was—she'd spent almost the entirety of it in one of two places: this manor and the Clan Palace in Esmaeyae. Having regained her vigor through the unknown miracle that had brought her here, she'd then proceeded to squander it.

The realization left her feeling bitter inside. She yearned to leave this place, to go and see the wonders that this new world provided, but things were never so simple. Sure, she could just walk away, but then what?

Hers was a complicated existence. Her power made her the object of desire for all four ruling clans within Drayhadal. Ever since the day she'd stopped the Stragman invaders, her presence had been impossible to conceal from the other clans. As hard as Pyria tried to keep the other clans away, she didn't have the power to fully block their demands.

Unfortunately, those demands manifested in the form of not-so-welcome visitors every few days, one from each of the other clans. They came as a group—none of the clans would allow the others a chance to talk to her alone—and spent their time trying to ingratiate themselves and their clan with her. Mizuko didn't find any of the representatives too odious, but they did carry the same air of smug superiority that she found with every high-ranking elf she'd ever met, even—no, especially—Pyria.

Only the protection of Pyria and the Esmae clan kept Mizuko from becoming a prize to fight over. As fascinating as the volcanic city Astryae or Casmyae—the "City On The Lake"— sounded, just the act of her visiting one of them risked igniting a near-civil war between the clans. They might even go as far as to try to attack her. Provided she saw it coming, she knew she could handle just about anything with her strange mental abilities. The question was if she wanted to. Those on the receiving end of her power often did not emerge from the experience undamaged.

That brought up a whole other obstacle to her exploratory desires: where and how would she sleep? To her constant dismay, Mizuko had yet to find a way to keep her dreams from hurting everybody around her, meaning she would be a danger wherever she might be when it was time for slumber. If she were to travel, she would have to sleep out in the wilderness or she'd end up mentally traumatizing a bunch of unprepared people every night—and even that didn't guarantee anything. Even the servants went back to their homes in the nearby town when she retired for the evening, while the guards had to massively expand their perimeter to avoid being caught up in her dream.

Those guards and servants, along with their ruler, were perhaps the final obstacle to her desire. She had no illusions as to her relationship with Pyria Esmae. The elven princess liked her and took the time to visit often—though, recently, noticeably less frequent than before—but Mizuko knew that their friendship was secondary to her utility. She had no doubts that the servants reported her activities to the princess and that the guards had orders to keep her in as much as they had to keep others out.