Today, on the last day of summer, I turned eighteen. And if you believe in magical traditions, this is supposed to be one of the happiest days of my life.
Why, you ask? Well, for starters, every girl finally discovers her own unique magic on this day. There are four categories of magical women: healers, guardians, warriors, and creators.
Healers, as you might guess, save lives. Warriors and guardians mostly wield combat magic. Guardians, though, protect the royal family—but only the most noble-born among them get that honor. Creators, on the other hand, are often drawn to the arts.
That’s a broad overview, of course, because even within a single category, girls vary in the strength of their gift and their skills. For instance, some creators can paint breathtaking masterpieces or sew like no one else, while others can transform an entire city into a blooming garden.
The stronger the gift, the greater the possibilities. Usually, powerful gifts manifest in aristocrats, though there are rare exceptions when a strong gift appears in common folk.
Secondly, on this day, you’re allowed, as an adult, to not only attend the formal dinner but also dance at the ball. Though, if you ask me, that’s a bit odd. Waiting until you’re eighteen for your first ball! But what can you do?
I’ve always dreamed of becoming a healer and studying at the local academy. But things didn’t turn out the way I’d hoped, unfortunately.
That’s why I’m sitting up here in the attic, surrounded by dusty boxes. Somewhere downstairs, music plays, and laughter echoes, while I’ve run away from the ball thrown in my honor.
But what kind of honor is it when your gift is so insignificant that it doesn’t even fit into any category? People like me used to be called keepers. I say “used to” because it’s been a long time—fifty years or so—since a keeper was born among the aristocracy.
And it’s not because being a keeper is some rare or valuable gift. No, it’s because magical dynasties typically arrange advantageous marriages to ensure strong, gifted offspring.
Keepers are something like household spirits. They keep the home in order, clean, and care for clothes. But they’ve been gone for ages. You can do all that without magic. Keepers, they say, also made great mothers and wives.
Even if I do get accepted into the academy, it’ll be for a special course meant for those with unstable gifts or for ordinary people. And I’d have to pay for that education. Pay to become a good wife! I’d rather have no gift at all! At least then, no one would want to marry me.
And now, Sebastian is just going to make my life a living hell!
He’s always hated me, but now, I’m terrified to even imagine what he’ll come up with next. He’ll find a way to hurt me as deeply as possible.
I haven’t even told you my name or who I am yet. My name is Elvira Stein, and I come from an ancient and prestigious lineage. But, sadly, I’m the last of my family. I’m an orphan.
My mother, Rowena Olier, was a hereditary mage and a Kiresse—a high-ranking title at court. She was a powerful warrior. My father, Ross Stein, wasn’t as noble, just a Ler, a rank so low they’re not even invited to the palace. He was a mage of the absolute. All these titles mean little now, since the country is run by ministers, not the king and queen. Still, being an aristocrat is like winning the lottery. It didn’t help my parents, though. Both died defending our borders from desert monsters.
We’re surrounded by desert on two sides. They say a great evil lives deep in the sands, and an energy wall protects us from it. But every now and then, there’s a breach, and terrifying creatures from the desert invade our world. They’re highly resistant to magic, so even the strongest mages struggle against them.
I barely remember my parents. Sometimes, I recall a tall, smiling man, or the warmth of my mother’s hands stroking my head.
But I’ve seen them in portraits in the family castle’s gallery.
I think I take after my dad more. Like him, I have slightly wavy, light hair and eyes so dark they look black. My lips, though, are like my mom’s—small but well-shaped. I’m petite, and you could call me skinny if it weren’t for my full chest. I used to think that was a good thing, but now that I know about my gift, it feels like a cruel joke—just the perfect wife!
That’s exactly what Sebastian said today, in his usual cold tone, that I’d make the perfect servant for any man. Then he laughed scornfully.
Sebastian is Uncle Robert’s son. Robert Solier, a hereditary master of light and a Kiren like my mother, isn’t really my uncle, but I call him that. He was my father’s friend and is now my guardian. I love him with all my heart, and he loves me, but his son despises me.
I don’t know why. No matter how hard I try to understand or connect with him, nothing works.
Sebastian is eight years older than me. Tall, dark-haired, and so handsome that every girl falls for him. On top of that, he’s a mage of the absolute, just like my father was. For men, it’s different—their gifts develop from birth. There are white mages, black mages, and mages of the absolute, who combine both. Sebastian’s mother, Alvina, came from the Murray family, rumored to have produced the most royal guardians in the past. But she inherited the gift of a creator. She passed away when Sebastian was twelve.
I always thought that if anyone should understand me and feel a connection, it would be him. We’ve both lost our parents. But from our very first meeting, he called me a dimwit in a hideous dress.
Since then, both I and my dresses have changed, but Sebastian’s attitude hasn’t. Sometimes, I think I see something in his green eyes, like a flicker of warmth, but I’m probably just imagining it.
Uncle Robert has treated me like his own daughter my entire life. I’ve had the best tutors, beautiful clothes, and today, when my shameful gift manifested, it was he who comforted me. He tried to explain that there’s nothing wrong with being a keeper. He said I’m very gentle and delicate, and he couldn’t even imagine me as a warrior or guardian.
Maybe he’s right.
Still, a chill runs through me when I remember how my gift revealed itself.
Sebastian was getting up from the table, and the wide sleeve of his shirt caught on a nail in the armrest. He yanked his arm, and the sleeve tore. I just wanted to help unhook the fabric, but instead, I felt a warmth in my fingertips, and the tear mended itself.
Sebastian looked at me, then asked:
“So, what’s this? Can we do without servants now, Dad? Elvira, you’ll make the perfect maid, ready to please any man.”
“Son, why would you say that? Any magic is…”
Uncle didn’t finish because Sebastian turned his back on us and walked away.
So now, here I am in my favorite hiding spot. I used to climb up here as a kid to hide from my so-called stepbrother.
I’m wearing a stunning emerald ball gown that highlights my figure, my hair is styled high, and for the first time in my life, I have light pink lipstick on. But I’m not going to the ball. I’ll stay right here! I just can’t do it. The thought of the guests’ reactions when they find out I’m a keeper makes me sick with shame. The last of the Steins, and such a laughingstock! A mage who can’t even open a portal!
I got up and, stepping over boxes, approached the tiny window. It’s already dark outside. Magical lanterns decorate the garden, and elegantly dressed men and women step out of a flower-adorned portal. Uncle Robert and Sebastian are greeting them, though it should’ve been me!
How many times have I imagined this evening—honored guests, admiring glances from young men—and now, what?
Suddenly, Sebastian turned sharply and looked right at me, or so it seemed. I flinched, stumbled over some junk, and fell. Then I heard something falling straight toward me. I barely managed to turn away as a heavy sack landed right where my head had been. I pulled a magical lantern from my purse and saw the spine of a book peeking out from a hole in the sack.
It shimmered with silver, and my hands reached for it instinctively.
Pulling the book out, I tried to wipe off the dust to read the title, but it wouldn’t budge. So I closed my eyes and imagined the dust disappearing. When I looked again, I read:
“Whoever reads me—
Will meet their fate.
I’ll tell a tale,
And show the truth!”
The letters glowed gold.
“Well, let’s open it,” I muttered to myself for encouragement.
At first, I saw only blank, white pages. But then, colors began to bloom across them, forming an image. It looked as if an invisible hand was painting with a brush, sketching out silhouettes.
There, a girl in an emerald gown, just like mine, appeared. She’s running down a corridor, surrounded by darkness, stopping at a door and grabbing the handle with all her might. She pulls once, twice, three times. Nothing happens. She starts pounding on the door, and then, someone appears behind her. Slowly, one by one, lanterns flare to life, and a massive shadow engulfs the girl. She turns, and I see myself. Though the drawing can’t convey sound, I know she’s screaming in terror—or rather, I’m screaming.
I threw the book as far away as I could, and the image froze, no longer moving. What on earth was that?
I stepped back and heard footsteps.
I wanted to turn around, but someone grabbed me. I opened my mouth to scream, but then I heard a familiar icy voice:
“Don’t you dare scream, you spineless coward.”
It was Sebastian. So, he did see me.
“What do you want?” I asked.
“What do I want? I want my dear little sister to come downstairs and greet the guests. What did you think?”
“I’m not going. Leave me alone!”
“And why’s that? What, are you scared? Scared everyone will find out what a nobody you really are?”
Why, just why, is he always like this with me? I felt tears welling up in my eyes.
“Just let me go already. I’m not going anywhere!”
I tried to push him away, but he didn’t budge. He held me by the waist with one hand and pinned my arms with the other. The top of my head barely reached his chin, but I still tried to headbutt him. I’d heard somewhere that you can knock someone out by hitting their chin—maybe it works on mages too?
“Don’t even try,” he hissed. “Either you come downstairs on your own, or I’ll drag you down. I don’t care what you think, but I’m not letting you disgrace my father!”
“No, let me go!”
“Fine then,” he said menacingly.
Without another word, Sebastian hoisted me over his shoulder and carried me downstairs. I yelled something, even called him names in my desperation, but when I realized he was taking me straight to the ballroom, I fell silent. Tears streamed down my face.
“Sebastian, I’m begging you, don’t do this!”
When we reached the doors, he set me down, opened them, and practically shoved me into the ballroom.
The chatter stopped instantly. Everyone stared at me. I lowered my eyes and saw that my dress was dusty, probably my face too, and tears wouldn’t stop falling.
I turned my back to the guests and met his cold green eyes.
“Why?” was all I could manage before, for the first time in my life, I slapped him across the face.
I don’t know what shocked me more—that I hit him, or that he gave me a strange smile, ran his hand along my cheek, and I felt, more than saw, the dirt and tears vanish.
I wanted to run to my room and never come out, but Sebastian grabbed my hand and pulled me to the center of the room.
“Dear guests, please forgive my little sister’s antics! She’s still very young and got overwhelmed today,” his voice, amplified by magic, echoed off the flower-decorated walls.
I looked around—some stared at us in surprise, others smiled, and a group of men in the far corner kept chugging their drinks. It was as if no one noticed anything. Sure! They’ll gossip about me later.
“Allow us to start this evening with a dance!”
My worst nightmare grinned and signaled the musicians. They began playing “Irena,” a beautiful slow dance named after a famous dancer.
I closed my eyes for a moment and felt a warm hand on my waist. We seemed to glide across the room. The lights dimmed, magical lanterns floated to the center, surrounded by enormous, colorful butterflies. Constellations lit up one by one on the ceiling. Gradually, other couples joined us, laughing and chatting, while I felt frozen in place.
“Smile. At least pretend you’re having fun. All of this is for a pathetic orphan who doesn’t even have a proper gift,” he said with a wide smile on his lips, probably making everyone think he was an angel.
A nervous laugh escaped me.
“Fine, if that’s what you want, Bastian, I’ll smile. But after this, I’m leaving!” I bared my teeth. “If you stop me again, I’ll start screaming like a lunatic right in front of everyone.”
“Don’t call me that. You’re nothing to me. And by the way, you know I can make you do it, right? So don’t threaten me. Say hi to your friends, then you can run to your room and hide like a little gray mouse. Otherwise, you’ll be walking around smiling at everyone like a wind-up doll until the night’s over.”
He flashed a broad grin.
And these weren’t empty threats. He’s done it before, forced me to follow his orders a long time ago. I’d held onto the hope that once my gift awakened, I’d be able to resist him somehow. But what chance do I have now?
“I hope you choke, you pompous turkey. I hope the desert beasts bite your head off!” I hissed.
“Maybe they will someday, don’t worry. Then you’ll get all the money, and maybe someone will even marry you.”
Another jab at my miserable situation. Yes, I don’t have a penny to my name. The crown took my family’s entire inheritance, and I don’t even get an allowance. The only thing I have left is the family castle. Old and massive, it can’t even be sold—heritage isn’t for sale, as Uncle said.
The dance ended, and Sebastian led me to a group of girls as beautiful as fairies.
“Thanks for the dance,” he said quietly.
The girls immediately surrounded me, bombarding me with questions.
“Oh my gosh, Ellie, if I danced with your brother, I’d probably faint!” Ophelia, a creator a year older than me, sighed dreamily. She’s so powerful she could build an entire castle out of thin air.
Everyone knew he wasn’t really my brother, but Sebastian always called me “little sister” in public.
“Did something happen? You looked off at first,” Gloria, my one true best friend, asked.
I blinked at her and said:
“Oh, girls, I’m not feeling well! I’m thirsty, and I need some fresh air. Gloria, will you come with me to the garden?”
“Oh, I’m not going! What about the dances? Are you kidding? There are so many cute guys here tonight!” came the chorus of replies. So, I grabbed Gloria’s hand and dragged her toward the garden.
Once we were far enough from the house, Gloria stopped.
“What’s wrong, Ellie? Sebastian again?”
“No, I mean, not just him. My gift awakened.”
“But that’s amazing!” Gloria clapped her hands. She’d gotten her gift three months ago and was now preparing to join the healers’ faculty.
I turned away.
“If only, Glori, if only! My gift is worthless. There’s not even a faculty for it, just a special course. I’m a keeper.”
Gloria touched my shoulder.
“Ellie, I’m sorry, but I don’t understand. Is it really that bad?”
“It’s worse!”
And I told Gloria everything I’d learned.
She was silent for a while, then said:
“I don’t think being a keeper is so terrible. Maybe there are other girls like you. And Sebastian’s a jerk, as always. Don’t pay attention to him.”
“Maybe there are others, but you know what people will say. I bet half the girls having fun in the ballroom right now will stop even saying hi to me. Maybe all of them.”
“So what? Then you’ll know who’s real and who’s not. Don’t count your chickens before they hatch! I think you should learn more about keepers. Maybe there are some books? You’ve got a huge library!”
Involuntarily, I felt a wave of relief and even smiled at my friend.
“Thanks, Glori. I’m so glad I have you.”
Gloria pulled me into a tight hug, and we both laughed.
“Now, let’s go back to the ballroom and have fun. Your uncle worked so hard, and even though Sebastian’s a stuck-up rooster, your dance looked absolutely magical. And that dress—I’m obsessed!” Gloria gave a pointed look at my neckline and wiggled her eyebrows.
“Ugh, Glori!”
“What? I wouldn’t mind having a little more up top than I do.”
Truthfully, Gloria was gorgeous. Tall, slender, pale-skinned, with dark hair, blue eyes, and full lips. But they say women always want to change something about themselves. Gloria’s always saying she wishes she were petite like me.
“Don’t talk nonsense, Glori!”
Holding hands, we ran back to the ballroom.
For the rest of the evening, I danced and laughed, even when they announced my gift at midnight.
Yes, some scoffed disdainfully, mostly the older mages who knew what it meant. Soon enough, they’d explain it to their kids, but that would come later.
The evening was winding down. Guests were slowly leaving. I said goodbye to Gloria and the other girls and decided to head to the library. I wasn’t sleepy, and I didn’t want to go to my room either.
Passing by the gallery, I heard a rustle and a soft sigh. I took a few more steps and saw a couple in an alcove. I froze, unsure what to do—keep going or turn back? But then, a moonbeam slid across the guy’s back, revealing a familiar head of hair.
Sebastian!
It’s not that I didn’t realize he’s a grown man, but still, my heart dropped, and I felt a strange, sharp pain that took my breath away.
I needed to leave. I took a step back, and something crunched under my heel.
In the complete silence, the sound was like a thunderclap.
“Who’s there, darling?” a girl’s voice whispered.
Sebastian turned slowly, like a lazy, satisfied cat, and fixed me with a heavy stare.
“It’s no one, don’t worry, sweetheart. Just our little household spirit.”
That was too much, even for him. I opened my mouth to say something, but I couldn’t. Rage choked me.
I don’t know how it happened, but the next moment, a black silk scarf that had been carelessly draped over his shoulder tied itself around his neck and started tightening, harder and harder.
Sebastian didn’t realize what was happening at first and grabbed at his throat. I laughed—he looked so comical and confused! I’d never seen him like this, always so composed, ready for a fight, even a bit stern.
Turning around and still laughing, I ran to my room. Of course, the scarf wouldn’t choke him—my magic would never be strong enough for that—but the look on his face would keep me smiling for a long time!
Later, after a maid helped me change into my nightgown, I stood by the huge window in my room and thought that maybe this keeper magic wasn’t so bad after all. At least it was unexpected.
Dear Readers!
A little visualization for you!
P.S. If you can’t see the images (sometimes they disappear on Booknet after a while), you can check them out on my Instagram. Link in my profile.
Sebastian
Elvira