Shadows of the Darkened Veil

"Stand down, brat," the chamber's chief said while placing a hand on Ravindra's shoulder. "That's enough for today. It would be best if you increased your level. On level one, using this spell was already taxing. Don't overexert yourself; it will only harm you."

"H-H-How do I level up?" Ravindra faced the chief officer. "I want to use it more… I like this one."

"You don't have to worry about that for now… We are going home," Sigrid said, mockingly. "With your extremely low level, you can't use that ability more than once a day. If your mana is almost depleted, the only way for it to recover is naturally. It can take anywhere from 5 to 24 hours or even longer if you keep exhausting it."

"Even after fatigue and exhaustion, many use mana against their body's instincts and end up dead," the old lady chief officer sighed. "It's as if our body needs a certain amount of mana to function. If you keep pushing beyond the boundary, you may end up in a coma or even die."

Ravindra's understanding of magic was improving; now he knew how to use dark magic. Still, one thing was bothering him: the primary elemental magic of anemo, which seemed to play no role in what he was doing.

"What is the role of anemo here?" They laughed at his question.

"Well, first of all, anemo and dark magic rarely come together," the chief explained. "If you really want to use anemo with dark magic, then you'll have to figure it out yourself. After that, you'll need to give it a name and practice it thousands of times so that whenever you say the spell's name, it happens automatically without requiring intense concentration."

"We are going home now," Sigrid said, while Ravindra seemed lost in thought.

They left the place and returned to Sigrid's house. She left Ravindra in the care of the butler, believing he needed someone to look after him. Ravindra, on the other hand, was annoyed by her behaviour.

Sitting in the living room and feeling restless, his mind wandered. 'Hehe… If I can run away from this old man, I can get to see theatres. Well, well, well… Since I am going to be a doctor, I should watch a drama related to doctors. I need to know how a doctor acts. With my abilities, I can perfectly copy that doctor.' He looked around; the butler was nowhere to be seen in the living room. 'The mission, watch the Doctor-Doctor drama begins now.'

He stood up and started going upstairs, remembering the last time he saw the butler upstairs. He wanted to get the keys to get out and also some money.

The upstairs had a roundabout structure, with rooms spread at a distance from each other. Compared to the Glass Palace, this place wasn't even a per cent of how massive the palace was—a structure that took over 300 years to complete.

He moved silently forward. The corridor was well-lit, offering no advantage for his nameless dark magic ring. His ugly armour contained only two known magic spells, and with his depleted mana, he couldn't use any of them.

After moving through the hall for over 30 seconds, he spotted the old butler watering plants on the first floor. Ravindra knew exactly where the keys were. He carefully looked for an opportunity and found one set of keys—he knew it would take at least three keys to get out of the mansion. One set was always with the butler, another with Sigrid, and the last set was on the first floor, typically given to the two housemaids. This last set was right at the end of the stairs.

After taking the keys, Ravindra focused all his attention on stealth. 'I am getting out of this jail. No one can stop me… hehe… hehe…' He slowly used the key on the main door of the mansion when suddenly, he heard a faint sound coming from the other side of the door. Someone else was trying to open the door. 'Oh no… oh no… I am not getting caught…'

He swiftly threw the keys beneath the crouch in the hall and performed an unnecessary roll to get out of the line of sight of the person opening the door. His movements were indeed swift, and he wasn't caught.

Sigrid seemed relaxed as she opened the door, stretching her hand and yawning, "Oh… My little brother… Where are you?"

Ravindra came out of the kitchen and responded, "Yes… Elder sister…?"

"We have to go… We are going to watch a theatre…" Her words didn't immediately register in Ravindra's mind.

'Is that a coincidence… But why would they want me to go to a theatre?' He felt a little doubtful, "Why do we… have to go to the… theatre?" he asked, laughing, trying to mark the decision as foolish.

"Did I ask for your opinion? Just do what you are told," Sigrid replied sharply.

"Yep…" His head dropped, 'Hmmm… Seems like they got the same idea about the theatres. Playing doctor is going to be interesting.'

What was happening inside him was entirely different from what he was showing externally.

They left for the theatre district, a place named specifically after its theatres. In this world, live theatres were the most famous, with directors more renowned than the actors. Some plays could cost up to 10 chrysos—almost impossible for a common person to afford.

Many people hated theatres, believing novels were far superior. This conflict might seem small, but it was significant. Throughout the world, there had been several cases of clashes, with some people even losing their lives over such a matter.

They were riding in a city horse cab, which could only accommodate two people sitting side by side.

"Elder sister… Which drama are we going to watch?" Ravindra asked Sigrid while looking out the window, leisurely sightseeing.

"We are going to watch some sort of a doctor drama or something. I don't know exactly," Sigrid explained. "Setward Sysus said you should watch these dramas to adapt how to act like a doctor… Hmm… After you have finished watching the first drama… You will play Doctor in the second one."

Ravindra laughed at the idea. "How is that even possible? How can I just act like a doctor after watching a single doctor-doctor show?" Internally, he thought, 'Even though I might be among the world's best actors, how can I act like a doctor after watching a single play? Only Steward Sysus would have been wise enough to give such a suggestion.'

"You have only two more days," Sigrid said ominously. "If you are not fit, then I don't know what will happen."

"Wh-wh-what will happen?" Ravindra stammered.

"The look on your face is telling me you already have an idea," she said, looking out the window and leaning her head against her hand as if falling asleep.

Ravindra became restless, unable to stop remembering the dramatic reaction of the maid at the registration office. 'They might kill me… Okay-okay… I need to calm down. I just need to…' he took a deep breath, '…make sure that my skills leave an impact on this vicious lady.'

After reaching the theatre, they stopped, and a man greeted Sigrid, explaining the plan. They set out on foot, surrounded by huge buildings that occupied vast surface areas.

Due to the theatres' popularity, there were many seats. Two types of theatres existed: one for normal people and another for the ultra-rich, with a massive gap between their targeted audiences.

They waited in line for about five minutes. The show was just starting, with a wide stage and an enormous number of chairs that looked staged on top of each other from the stage's perspective.

The lights turned on, and the narrator began the show. This performance was about doctors, and featuring a wounded soldier from an enemy country. Most doctors initially refused to treat him, considering it treason. Only one old doctor courageously began the operation, delivering a powerful speech about medical duty to his hesitant colleagues.

As the guards arrived, the other doctors suddenly supported the heroic doctor, forcing the guards to leave empty-handed. The play lasted 90 minutes, and Ravindra kept his eyes fixed on the stage. He had even fought with a few people to secure a front-row seat, which he finally obtained when Sigrid revealed her identity.

After ten minutes, it was Ravindra's turn to perform. He went backstage, which was divided into private rooms for senior artists and open halls for junior artists. Separate dressing rooms for men and women occupied significant space.

Allegedly, someone from the Glass Palace had informed the theatre that Ravindra was a senior artist who would set the stage on fire with his performance. The director, whose recent shows had been flops and who was nearly in debt, was told to simply provide Ravindra with a script and a private room. If more than five of his upcoming shows didn't attract enough audience, he would go bankrupt.

Ravindra received a single-page script containing the climax speech of a doctor. An accompanying page provided the story overview: A little girl's soldier father had died in battle, and his body was returned home. The daughter would be crying and begging the world's best doctor—played by Ravindra—to heal her father. His task was to deliver a speech that would win the audience's heart.

The single page was all he needed to memorize, filled with dialogues between himself and the girl. One problem existed: on the back of the page were written examples of how he was supposed to deliver the dialogues—a detail Ravindra was unaware of.

After 80 minutes of the previous play, he was called by a short, fat, bald man with some red hair—the director. 'This is it… This is it… He is the REAL Senior artist… He will blow up the stage… I can feel it on his face,' the director thought.

Ravindra's face remained calm and expressionless, exactly as one would expect from someone about to deliver a spectacular performance. His demeanour looked like that of a professional artist.

The director gave him a white coat, typical of doctors in this world, and personally styled his hair. Ravindra thought the director was acting more like a personal assistant than a theatre director.

He gave a slight nod before stepping onto the stage with a smile, while the director was visibly overexcited.

When Ravindra went onto the stage, a little girl of about 8 or 9 years old stood beside a coffin. She was crying, but upon seeing the doctor—Ravindra—she stopped and approached him. Bowing deeply, she touched her head to the floor, "Aren't you the world's best doctor? Save my father… I will give you all the money I have… Just—just heal him. Make him talk again, make him walk again. Please, I beg you."

The entire audience was emotionally connected to the scene. Some covered their eyes and wept, feeling too overwhelmed to watch but unable to look away from the little girl.

According to the script, Ravindra was supposed to place both hands on the girl's shoulders, hug her, and comfort her while delivering a speech about her father's death. He was meant to urge her to accept the dark reality of war.

Instead, he placed his hands on her shoulders, pulled her to her feet, and shouted, "You need to accept the fact that your father has died!" Moving forward towards the audience, he declared, "There is nothing anyone can do…"

The little girl looked momentarily puzzled, glancing at the director, who was frantically signalling her to speak without making noise.

Sigrid was struggling to contain her laughter, one hand covering her mouth while the other pressed against her stomach. She knew the script and understood how they were supposed to act.

The girl shouted in response—a deviation from the emotional script—"You are the best… Everyone says it… Just bring my father back… I NEED HIM…" Her tears were genuinely visible to the audience.

The director began dramatically hitting his head against the wall, creating an oddly fitting background rhythm that somehow blended with the environment.

Ravindra shook his head and shouted at the girl, "You need to grow up. The one who is dead is dead. They can't come back. You have to take care of your mother. You need to get a hold of yourself." He was improvising, believing this was some kind of test since no one had explained how to act.

The little girl lowered her hands from her eyes. Though partially scripted, her emotional breakdown became almost entirely genuine. Most of the audience now had tears in their eyes.

"I can't… I can't… Mama… Papa…" she genuinely cried.

Ravindra knelt down and hugged her. "You are not alone," he said softly. "A lot of people are with you. They care about you. You just have to keep moving forward."

His delivery was perfect. The audience fell completely silent, still weeping, while the director's background music continued.

The curtains dropped. After thirty seconds of silence, thunderous applause erupted. The audience loved the climax and emotional breakdown.

Only then did the director realize the show was a success and the audience was thrilled.

He sprinted after Ravindra, but Sigrid was quick. They left the place before drawing too much attention. The director kept asking everyone he could find about Ravindra, frustrated that he didn't even know the performer's name.

____

Unnamed Dairy continued…

Entry no. four…

It's been two months and now my friendship with Ulfic has gone so far that now I am almost part of his team, it just sounds funny to many of my bullies but it's true. I can now just be myself. I have friends now who care about me, among all of us only I am the one who is poor, all of them come from well-to-do families, and they are nice to me. What else can I ask?

Veronica doesn't talk to me now, I find her seeing me a few times, sometimes it feels like she is coming at me to talk and then, she just moves somewhere else, maybe I am just thinking that. I was so used to talking to her but now it seems that all of it was just over. We are like strangers now.

Today was horrifying someone infiltrated the academia, they killed two seniors, and the main ground of the academia was covered in blood. All the parents came to take their children home, yep you have guessed it, my uncle and aunt didn't even know in which academia I studied. Ulfic's Father, left me home, even though we were technically adults at the age of 16 but still, the academiawas strict. Ulfic's Father's a militant. He was very easy to talk to. He told me about which branch of Military I should pursue, when I told him I was a cryomancer, he told me that he knew that, Ulfic told him. He says that I should stick to Resosnce ethereal magic. I have made up my mind… I will be a Resonator.

I reached home but I just can't get that feeling out of me… Many students of the academia started shouting all of a sudden, after that the word that was the most common was Murder… Someone was murdered but how… and on the grounds of academia that is so weird. Something like that shoudn't be happening, I can't sleep… I don't know what will happen tomorrow… I am not so much into rumours but I would love to listen these… I can't wait for tomorrow morning…