Rise of the Archon

Book 3 Chapter 8: A Child of Utility


Oppressive light, like a harsh summer sun at midday, surrounded me. The sheer mass of mana smothered my senses, but what was even more disconcerting was the palpable weight and pressure. It felt as though a great hand was crushing every inch of my body, such that I couldn't so much as twitch a finger.

Then, all at once, it vanished, and I found myself standing in a new room.

It looked like an office or maybe a study of respectable size. A desk sat near tall windows overlooking the hills and valleys outside. Several bookshelves and a workbench lined one wall, and there was a meditation mat in the corner. Everything was clearly well-made, with polished surfaces, decorative carvings along the floorboards, and a beautiful rug of reds and golds beneath my feet.

Duke Sion was already walking towards the desk, seemingly ignoring my presence once more. His hand flicked to the side, and a shirt appeared as if from thin air. He began tugging it over his head, and I had just enough time to notice that something was glowing against the skin of his arm. A marking, maybe?

I debated asking about it, but before I could, the Duke had turned to face me. He seemed to consider me, golden eyes flat and cold. Time passed, with the only sound I could hear being the beating of my own heart.

Finally, the Duke asked, "You were to be Estton's advisor."

It wasn't what I expected, but I barely paused before nodding.

"Yes, my lord. Duke Estton adopted me as a member of his family, and—"

"What would you advise?" the man interrupted me. "If your lord's son had done what my son has done, and adopted such a lacking mage into their family without his father's consent?"

I blinked. It was as obvious a test as I had heard, and I didn't rush to answer. Instead, I thought back once more to what Flynn had said about his father.

"Father abhors cowardice, and he damn sure doesn't respect pleasant lies or exaggerations. Don't answer how you think he wants you to answer. If he asks you something, tell the truth."

"First, I would like to clarify. Does the son not speak for his father?" I asked.

"He does, to an extent. But that does not give him the authority to do whatever he pleases."

"Of course, but surely you'd agree a lord's heir must have some power, right?" I pushed.

Duke Sion remained silent, so I continued, "I would advise one of two courses of action. The first is simple. Overrule the son's decision entirely. You exile the adopted son before he can cause any embarrassment. Of course, this might also cause resentment between the heir and his lord father."

"And the second option?" the Duke pressed.

"Trust the heir's decision. If he sees potential, then allow this new mage to remain during a...cautionary period, let's say. Give the adopted son access to resources and give him the chance to prove himself. If this mage fails, the lord can exile him without risking resentment with his son. And if he succeeds, then the family has earned a new, powerful ally."

"And you think you can somehow impress me?" Sion asked, dispensing with our flimsy hypotheticals.

"I bested your son once," I replied, forcing myself to meet his eyes.

Sion stared, his face unreadable as he weighed my words. Sweat trickled down my back, but strangely, I didn't feel much fear. I might not have shown the man everything I could do, but I thought I had demonstrated enough. Either he would accept my logic or he wouldn't, and there was remarkably little that would influence that decision.

Finally, Sion broke the stare. He rounded the desk and sat down, leaning forward with elbows on the surface and fingers interlaced before him. A chair appeared in a flash of gold, and he nodded once.

"Sit," he commanded, and I followed the order instantly.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

"You're a flawed mage," Duke Sion said bluntly. "Your style is wasteful. Inefficient. Your power is unusual for your age, your growth uncommon, and your ability to create permanent mana constructs rare even for someone twice your age, but these are novelties. You understand this?"

"I...yes, but I might call my abilities 'unorthodox.'"

"A pretty word to comfort those afraid of the truth," he replied without a hint of malice or scorn.

I didn't bother trying to argue the point. He was right to an extent, though I didn't wholly agree. Unorthodox magic had utility, but it wasn't a replacement for skill.

Duke Sion stared at me for another few seconds before asking, "What do you know of my son's abilities?"

Once more, I found myself put off balance, but I recovered after a second. "Quite a bit, my lord. We trained many times on the way here. He's a remarkably talented mage."

"No," Sion shook his head once. "Not talented. My son is a genius. His potential far outmatches mine, and I am even now only one step removed from becoming an Archmagus. However, Flynn has a certain failing that can come to those with such gifts."

I took a gamble and asked, "Complacency?"

"Just so. Flynn has never had to struggle. He memorized lessons on magical theory in days when most would take weeks. He can improve upon spells instinctively, without the need for extensive practice and testing, as most do. My son has the ambition, but not the drive."

Sion waved a hand, as if brushing something aside. "I tried several methods to jar him loose from his malaise, but nothing worked. No noble his own age could match him in power. Worse, none dared to try out of a mistaken fear of reprisal. None, until he met you."

I raised my eyebrows. "Apologies, but I cannot be that special. Surely someone had bested Flynn before me."

"Older mages, yes. Stronger ones. But none that were his junior and none with as few resources as you," Duke Sion shook his head. "I cannot say whether his belief is founded in truth or fiction, but the fact remains unchanged. Flynn returned from that first duel with newfound resolve and motivation. You pushed him to improve more than I had ever seen."

Duke Sion stood, folding his arms behind his back and walking over to the window. "My family has a belief. Quality rules over quantity. We do not waste our resources on the incapable. We do not weaken our lineage on inferior mages. There has always been one lord and one heir, from the time of our founding until now. I followed this creed with my father, but my son has come to disagree. Perhaps it is time to see if he is correct."

I had several questions, but only one seemed pertinent. "Does this mean you accept your son's decision, my lord?"

"For now," the Duke turned back to me. "You will be a member of my family, granted the rights and privileges afforded to a duke's son. Your primary duty while within my walls will be to support my son during his training. And so long as he continues to improve, you will enjoy my protection. Is that understood?"

It was better than I could have hoped. I never had any such delusions about truly impressing the man, after all. Still, a small part of me wanted to push back.

Instead, I bowed my head. "Thank you, my lord."

Duke Sion nodded once. "I expect you to acquit yourself better the next time we meet."

I wanted to ask what that meant, but the door behind me swung open before I could speak. It was as clear a message as possible, and I stood, bowed once more, and made my escape rather than press my luck.

The hallway outside was nondescript, leading to both the left and the right. I paused, shrugged, and began walking down the first of those passageways, following the sensations through my familiar bond. That was the direction Fortunatus was in, so it made sense to reunite with him first.

I turned the corner and pulled up just in time to avoid colliding head-on with Flynn.

The golden-haired man's eyes burned, his mouth set in a scowl. His mana, which was remarkably well-controlled, burned just under the surface, and his entire posture was tense as a spring.

I saw the moment when he recognized me. His glare softened, and he relaxed, shaking his head with a sigh.

"Oh, good, you're alive," Flynn said, placing a hand on my shoulder and grinning.

"Was...that a possibility?" I asked.

"Possibly," Flynn nodded once, "Regardless, I was going to wait in my father's office until he returned, but it seems he moved faster than I expected. What happened?"

"Any chance we can get some privacy first?"

"Of course. Follow me."

We made our way down the halls, ducking through two doors, walking past guards, and eventually coming to another room similar in size and layout to the Duke's office. It was more sparsely decorated, with fewer books on the shelves and a smaller, simpler desk, but it was nearly identical otherwise.

"Your study?" I guessed, gesturing around the room.

"Yeah," Flynn replied. "Now, what happened?"

I ran through everything that had happened since the Duke dismissed his son. He asked questions as I spoke, his face deadly serious. When I finished, he began pacing around the room, seemingly lost in thought. Finally, he stopped, turned to face me, and smiled.

"Better than I expected, honestly," Flynn said.

"I'm beginning to doubt the trustworthiness of your 'plans.'"

"I'm good at magic, not planning, but I'll have you know I had some backup options just in case. Lucky for us, we don't need to go down that path."

Out of curiosity, what were those backups?"

"Not important! Let's focus on the real heart of things," Flynn said, pulling a chair over from the desk and sitting down with a smile.

I stared at him, then shook my head and grabbed a chair of my own.

"Now, things are pretty straightforward from where I'm sitting. Your future within the family hinges on your continued growth as a mage."

"Your growth, you mean," I corrected.

"Yours. Mine. Ours. It's all the same thing, remember?" Flynn waved a hand. "You push me, I push you, and we both climb to the top. Either way, your growth as a mage is just as important."

"Your father would disagree."

"Our father," Flynn corrected with a wide smile. "Adopted or otherwise, you're a Sion now."

I wasn't sure what to say, so I shrugged before replying. "And I assume you have a training plan in mind?"

"Of course not, but we're both capable, no? We can figure something out...tomorrow. Tonight, we get you settled in," Flynn said, standing and brushing off the front of his pants before continuing, "And we find your cat. I can't help but notice your shoulder is decidedly bare."

I could sense Fortunatus moving closer, his frustration and worry clear through our bond. The clarity of his emotions shocked me, as though they'd come from me, and something about that brushed up against my memories. I would need to explore our bond more closely, hopefully with the aid of the Sion family's magical knowledge.

With that in mind, I stood with a sincere smile and replied. "Absolutely. Any chance we could start with your family library?"

Flynn's sigh was tinged with good humor. "And here I thought you'd be more excited about our training facilities. Oh well, one dusty room of books coming right up."

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