Duncan led his sister out of the college grounds. They lived just close enough that it didn't quite justify the carriage waiting outside. Penelope, their houses chief maid, was waiting for them with the door open, dressed in an exquisitely tailored black suit, her grey hair tied up into a neat bun.

She gave them a polite bow as a greeting, then took them in.

She knew the two youngsters well enough to know that Duncan was in a foul mood the moment she saw him. Honestly, the little rat probably deserved whatever had irritated him. She just felt it was a shame that whoever it was probably didn't deserve to pay the price for it.

The carriage pulled away once everyone was on board.

Penelope and the driver, Lance, were sat together at the front. Penelope had always had a fondness for Lance, they'd grown close over the twenty-some years they'd each served the Sellanion family.

They shared small talk and snacks on the way back to their household, keeping as quiet as they could as to not disturb their passengers.

When they arrived home, Duncan stormed inside their three-story manor house without a word. Leslie departed from them, bowing silently to Lance and Penelope. Both of them knew that she was avoiding her brother because he was about to bring the house down, typical.

Duncan powerwalked through the hallways towards his mother's office, radiating enough fury to dissuade the usually very helpful servants from approaching him. He burst through the doors into the office and stood, staring at his mother.

Elisa Sellanion was a slender woman somewhere in her early forties. She maintained a much younger look about her, going to great lengths to conceal the lines slowly crawling onto her skin.

She was in the middle of packing a crate with old items she was removed from her office, holding a large wooden case in her hands, halfway lowered into the box.

When she saw the look on Duncan's face, she knew that if she wasn't careful, this would be a painful conversation.

To his credit, Duncan diverted from his warpath for a moment to help his mother get that heavy-looking case into the crate. That tiny little distraction seemed to calm Duncan a fraction, that's what she needed.

"Something the matter, dear?" She asked, softly. Her voice was a little more low and hoarse than one might expect from her appearance. The thin scar that ran down the left-hand side of her throat, the one she kept hidden behind the scarf, might explain that. She knew that her boy was hot-headed, but she could disarm him.

She watched some of the fury drain out of Duncan as he looked at her. As much trouble as he was, he'd never been one to shout at her. She was always grateful that he'd never inherited that particular trait.

"Someone probed me today at college. Then that McKinley brat got in my way when I was going to..." he stopped himself from carrying on like he didn't want to offend his mother's ears with his violent plans.

"Is father home? I was hoping I'd find him here."

"Your father is in the gardens, sweetie. Will you help me finish packing all of this first? I'm a little tired."

Duncan looked at the door, that fury flashed on his face again for a second, but when he looked back, he saw his mother struggle to pick up something else heavy from the desk and he felt his momentum fade away.

"Sure."

Together the two packed up the rest of her belongings into the crate, keeping things as organised as they could. It took the better part of an hour. By the time they were finished, Duncan had largely let his fury dissipate.

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They'd just finished sliding the lid onto the crate when they heard a commotion outside. Duncan went to investigate but was knocked backwards when he opened the door and his father barrelled through, furious.

Duncan's father Kaine was the tall, dark and handsome type. His eyebrows were pushed together and the scorn in his face was directed straight at Duncan. Not far behind him, Leslie followed quietly behind her father, the perfect picture of innocence.

Before Duncan had a chance to think, he'd found himself backed up to the table in his mother's office. She was busy scrambling around to their side of the table when Kaine grabbed Duncan by the throat, pushing him against the edge of the tabletop.

He didn't squeeze. Not hard, anyway.

"Am I to understand..." He paused. "that my son is the sort of pathetic waste of space that lets some common filth probe at him without recompense? A Blind boy, no less?!"

Kaine wasn't the sort of man that operated at anything less than 100% at all times. He was practically screaming in Duncan's face and was pushing him so hard that Duncan could feel the wood of the table digging into his legs.

Elisa hurried to their side, trying to get Kaine's hand off of Duncan. She knew that this was futile, but she still had to try.

"Honey, please, let's-"

By now, she'd gotten used to this result. She knew exactly where this would get her. Before she even fully began her protest, Kaine's other hand struck her across the face, sending her reeling backwards, where she tripped over one of the loose items and fell.

Leslie ran over to her and was helping her get back up while Kaine's attention never left Duncan.

Duncan was outraged, before he even bothered trying to verbally spar with his father he gathered an enormous burst of fire mana from his core and thrust it outwards, consequences be damned.

But, just like every time, Kaine dispersed the mana with minimal effort. Then he clenched his hand a little tighter and sent a fist into Duncan's stomach. Duncan would've coughed, but Kaine wouldn't let him. He'd have fallen, but Kaine wouldn't let him. Kaine had a grip like iron and Duncan saw black at the edges of his vision.

What had he expected? His father was ten times the Arcanist he was. Why had he even thought of going to him? He knew what the result would be.

In his daze, Duncan found a little room to be honest with himself. He knew why he'd come to his mother's office. He'd told her that he'd wanted to find his father, but really, deep down, it'd been her he'd wanted to see.

She'd be able to stop that little part of Kaine that was in him.

Now? Duncan was calling out to that little piece of evil coiled up in his soul. Now was the time when he needed it, but even that had failed. He'd kill this man if he could.

Alas, no matter what mystical forces he could conjure, his father had him beat.

"Listen, Boy. Listen well. The next thing I want to hear about this little blind brat is that you've buried him in the college grounds, do you understand me? Our family will not suffer humiliation like this! Once you've done that, maybe I'll give you a fair shot at me, eh? I know that's what you want you little shit, but you've got to earn the right to the throne if you want to take it from me."

Duncan was still forcing down urges to cough after having the wind knocked out of him. He tried to speak but his father's grip was too tight.

"My apologies." Kaine said with feigned politeness. "what was that? I didn't quite hear you." Kaine loosened his grip ever so slightly.

"Fuck you, I won't-"

Another strike sent Duncan over the table, this time it was to the head. Before he could recover, Kaine had pulled him up pressed his face against the surface of the table, hard.

"I'm not sure, but were you trying to say "Yes, Father"? I think so, but I want to be sure." Kaine had such malice in his eyes that Duncan was certain one more act of defiance would get him killed.

He knew he only had one way out of this, maybe if he played along, and acted like a good boy, he could convince his father to spare his mother the same treatment.

"Yes, father. I'm sorry, father."

"Good." Kaine let go, then brushed himself off.

He turned his scowl to Elisa, who didn't meet his eyes. He took a step to approach her but before Duncan could try anything, Leslie ran over and grabbed her father's hand in both of hers, she looked up at him and shook her head, still silent.

That seemed to stop Kaine in his tracks and he gave something of a harrumph before exiting the room, Leslie in tow.

Duncan staggered up, coughed quite a lot, then attended to Elisa, who had a pretty serious bruise forming on her left cheek.

She couldn't meet his eyes. He could see such shame in the poor woman. It wasn't her fault she couldn't stand up to a man twice her size who happened to be an Arcanist with two powerful cores and decades of experience.

"Sorry, Mum. For all of this." He whispered to her.

Duncan knew that defying his father any further would make things worse for her. She'd done such a wonderful job of acting as his windbreak, stopping his fury dead in its tracks. Now he would have to reignite it.

If he didn't, neither of them would be spared his father's wrath. Duncan knew he was a terrible person. He'd accepted that years ago, but a part of him did feel bad for Vance. Sure, he wanted some petit revenge and a little beatdown to put the new teacher's pet in their place wasn't a big deal, but killing him?

Unfortunately, the way he saw it, he now had no choice. He would have to kill Vance Kalliea.