Reese ordered a taxi for the two youths. Paying for it himself as a small gesture of goodwill.
“You kids go on. Have fun at school, Oliver.” said Reese.
“Th-, Thank you, father.” said Oliver. Still looking a little uncertain, but having grown much more steady on his feet as his shock over the events that took place in the now missing Shades HQ wore off.
The car came quickly. This part of the city was near the downtown area, and there were always plenty of self-driving taxis parked in downtown Eblouir, waiting for customers.
Andrew got inside the car first, all but collapsing into his seat. Oliver followed, hesitating at first before steeling himself and nodding to his step-father a final time.
The car pulled away from the curb and the remaining Ascelines proceeded to clear the area. Using the momentary disorientation and loss of memory that Edric’s men had experienced to shoo away those that they had no remaining grudge with, and guide those they did have lingering enmity with to a secluded area for disposal.
“Sir...There’s a phone call for you.” said an Asceline clan’s man. The underling came running to Reese to inform him that he should pull his sprite out of private-mode because the clan had been trying to call.
“Thank you.” said Reese. Dismissing the underling.
The call was from one of the family’s bookkeepers. The accountant had called to inform him that the three billion dollars he’d transferred to the family’s coffers had been successfully deposited. Reese didn’t question what the other man was talking about. He simply thanked the man, hung up and looked in the direction of where his son and his son’s new friend had ridden off in.
Today was expected to be a much bloodier day, with lesser expected gains. It was meant to be more of a statement than anything else. A way of showing the world that their little clan was no longer one that could just be trampled. A way of helping to rebuild the family’s lost reputation and regain their lost face.
Reese was more than satisfied with how things went. The message would still be sent, and alongside other moves the clan was making throughout Harlow, the city, the planetary government, and the empire at large would still come to know that the time of trampling upon his family without consequence was at an end.
The only thing that changed was that the message would be sent with a much reduced cost in Asceline blood, and a much increased profit margin. It was yet another hint of a path that the family could take to return to its golden age.
************************************************************************************************************
Andrew groaned rubbing his brow. His gaze momentarily becoming unfocused.
“Are you okay?” said Oliver.
“Huh? Oh. Yeah. Yeah. I’m good. I just over-did it a little is all. The soul is something protected and interfering with free will is frowned upon by the universe at large. For each one of those people I had kill themselves I could have disintegrated that damn building ten times over. I guess I’m not recovered yet after all.” said Andrew.
“...Um, I guess. But you are okay, right?” said Oliver. Not quite getting the rest of what the other boy said, but sensing that the other boy had said something outlandish.
“Yeah, man. I already said I’m fine. I’m just...tired, is all.” said Andrew. Frowning as he wondered for the first time, if he’d shown too much of his hand. Deciding it was fine because he hadn’t shown anything too outlandish by imperial standards. He’d done nothing that the true elites of the empire weren’t capable of. Though it was kind of iffy that he was that capable at only seventeen.
“Good...I’m...I’m glad you’re okay.” said Oliver. His expression muddled.
“Hey, Ollie?” said Andrew.
“Yes.”
“Shoot straight with me. I get that you apparently want to be my friend, but I feel like there’s more behind it.”
Oliver froze. Feeling uncertain and more than a little afraid. He clenched and unclenched his hand as he made up his mind to tell the truth. Instinctively knowing that if the other side sensed falsehood all the hopes he’d had and all the plans he and his family had made would be ruined.
“I...It depends. What do you know of the Asceline clan? You removed something that had been weakening us for generations. Something the greatest mages couldn’t remove. Something that even our gods had a hard time trying to contain.” said Oliver.
“Ah…I think I got it.” said Andrew.
“We’re back now...Strong again, but not so strong that we can fight off everyone who’d want to keep us down or wipe us out before we can become a threat. That kind of strength will take time to rebuild.” said Oliver.
“I really do want to be your friend but…” said Oliver.
“Dude...Quit it with the melodramatics. You’re in my Intro to Power-Channeling class aren’t you?” said Andrew.
“Yeah...How did you know?” said Oliver. Blinking. The determination and momentum he’d built up dissipating as he was interrupted.
“I could feel you staring even then…” said Andrew.
“Oh...S-, Sorry about that, by the way. I hope I didn’t creep you out too much.” said Oliver.
“Nah. Like I was saying, you probably heard me reveal my old last name ‘Quirk’. One of the five big names of Harrow City. A branch clan to the Graves family, who are in turn, one of the three big names of planet Harlow. I’m no stranger to personal relationships based on family alliance and family alliance built on personal relationships. It’s my culture too…” said Andrew.
“Ah...I...I guess so.” said Oliver.
The inside of the car fell silent and for a while neither boy said anything. Then after peeking over at the other boy, Oliver decided to speak up again.
“So…?”
“So… What?” said Andrew.
“So what do you think? About me being your friend? About my family deciding to serve under you and whatever faction is behind you?...At least for a while, while we regain our strength?” said Oliver.
Andrew chuckled.
“Are you Ascelines always this blunt when trying to attach yourself to other families and groups?”
“No...But somehow I get the sense that trying to be surreptitious would be shooting myself in the foot here.” said Oliver.
“True enough...For the friendship, yeah. I think we’re good. No problem there. You’re a weird guy, but hell, so am I, and I’ve got at least four more years of school coming up which is too long to go without talking to anyone besides Sophia. For everything else. Let’s take it step by step and see. It might also help your family’s case to run things by Sophia.”
Oliver frowned. Wondering who Sophia was. Then something in the back of his mind was jostled loose and he gaped.
“D-, Do you mean Miss Luce?” said Oliver.
“Yeah. Getting into bed with me, means getting into bed with her...Er, I mean that figuratively. If I see you in bed with her...I just might kill you.” said Andrew. Laughing though his eyes said he was completely serious.
“I… Thank you. I’ll pass that along to my family elders.” said Oliver.
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The pair made it to Blackvale and in time found themselves sitting in the underground training arena that served as the classroom for their Intro to Power Channeling Class.
Professor Espina stood in the ring just as she had in the first class. Andrew noticed that she looked a little different compared to how she’d looked a two days ago. Her hair had been shortened and styled into a, punk rock, pixie cut, and she was wearing a different tracksuit from the one she wore the day before.
She still had the same manic, faintly feral, energy to her though.
“Good afternoon, class. Glad to see everyone made it. Last class we checked out what everyone could do. Now we’re gonna get into the meat and potatoes of training you to efficiently make use of your powers. Before we start on that though, I have one question for you all. Did everyone find your training partners, like I asked you to?” said Professor Espina.
This was followed by a chorus of yeses from the class.
“Good… Good. Remember you can team up in groups of four at the most. However, I’d recommend being sure of those you pick because these will be the people you train with for the rest of the semester.” said Professor Espina.
Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.
Oliver leaned in towards Andrew, and whispered out of the side of his mouth.
“Would you mind being my partner?”
“Why? Didn’t you find a partner already?” said Andrew.
“No… I was going through a few changes so I couldn’t really reach out to anyone to arrange something.”
“How about friends? Don’t you have any friends in class?” said Andrew.
“I’m an Asceline...You’ve felt our aura. Up until a few days ago, I and everyone else who knew us could tell you that Ascelines can’t have friends. Just people we make deals with and people who tolerate our presence enough to use us.”
“Damn… Way to make me feel guilty, dude.” said Andrew.
“But did it work though?” said Oliver. Smirking faintly.
“Tch… Fine. Hopefully that other girl who asked me to partner up with her doesn’t mind.” said Andrew.
“Which other girl?” said Oliver. Finding himself faintly displeased to hear that someone else was moving in on his friend, and then getting rid of that line of thought as he decided it was just a tad too clingy.
“Uh, let me think...It was this blue-haired girl. An owlkin. Uh, oh yeah… Modeste something.” said Andrew. Frowning and trying to think.
“Do you mean ‘Modeste Morgan’?” asked Oliver.
“Yeah, that’s the one.” said Andrew. Nodding.
“Then it should probably be fine ...probably. Last semester she was one of the students who didn’t outright hate me before, so I’m betting she won’t mind me too much now that I don’t have that ‘aura of suck’ on me.” said Oliver.
“If you say so.” said Andrew.”
“Hm...Alright, it seems like almost everyone completed the assignment. For those that didn’t I won’t take points off, but I will be sticking you with the other leftovers which will probably affect your grade in the long run.” said Professor Espina.
The professor clapped and Andrew’s brow rose as he felt the space they were in shift and expand. The arena transformed into a training hall with multiple rings like the one the professor was standing on.
Andrew bumped his assessment of the school up several notches because last he checked that kind of spatial-tech wasn’t something just any group could get their hands on.
“Now that we’ve decided on the groups. I want you all to make it official by having one member send a message to me with the number of members in your group and their names. Then the rest of the class will be spent letting you kids get to know each other. I hope I don’t need to elaborate on what the best method for getting to know each other is.” said Professor Espina.
Everyone in class rose from their seat and wandered towards an empty ring. Each student wearing a hesitant expression because for many even if this wasn’t their first time fighting it was the first time they were actually allowed to fight their peers while using their powers.
“Do you want me to send the message?” asked Oliver.
Andrew considered the question for a moment before shaking his head.
“Nah, hold on till we’ve talked to Modeste first. We need to know if she still wants to be in the group with us.” said Andrew.
“Sure…Whatever you say, boss.” said Oliver. Blushing faintly as generations of deeply ingrained lackey-training put words in his mouth.
“Boss?” said Andrew.
Oliver sweat. Resisting the urge to look around to see if anyone had heard, because he knew that was the best way to avoid drawing attention to the slip-up.
“Don’t worry about it. Just trying it on for size.” said Oliver. Ending his words with forced laughter. Wondering why the other boy was so tactless.
“Nh…” said Andrew. Looking at the cloud of anxiety that was floating around Oliver’s head.
The two youths found their third partner already standing at a ring.
“Good afternoon, Modeste.” said Andrew.
“Nh...Afternoon.” said Modeste. Fidgeting but trying to hide it.
“Who’s he?” said Modeste. Immediately noting the half-elf that stood at Andrew’s back.
“Hm? Oh him, he’s Ollie. A pal of mine. He couldn’t find a partner which was kind of my fault...so I let him join us. I hope that was okay.” said Andrew.
Modeste’s brow gathered slightly but she ultimately didn’t say anything. Simply shrugging and returning her attention to the stage.
“So how are we gonna do this?” said Oliver. Sensing that the atmosphere in the group was turning awkward.
“Do what?” said Andrew.
“The spar?” said Oliver.
“Huh? Oh, I guess...You and Modeste could fight and I could take the winner.” said Andrew.
“I guess that sounds alright. What do you say Miss Morgan?” said Oliver.
“...That’s fine, I guess. What was your power again?” said Modeste.
“[Aegis of the Four Seasons].” said Oliver.
“Oh, right...the multi-type.” said Modeste.
Multi-type powers were similar to fractal-types but much simpler. A multi-type power could do multiple things like a fractal-type could, but it was much more limited in its application and flexibility.
“So uh, should we start?” said Oliver.
Modeste just leapt onto the ring. Oliver followed her. Andrew watched as they prepared themselves.
Oliver squared his shoulders and spread his footing. The half-elf lowered his center of gravity falling into a posture similar to a horse stance. Andrew saw an illusion of red brown leaves caught in a cold sharp wind around the half-elf. He realized that Oliver’s power was an aura type.
Aura-type abilities were those like the Quirk’s [Breath of the Steadfast Hero]. They generally augmented the main character’s physical characters and often granted one or more anomalous powers. They also happened to be one of the most common types of power.
Oliver’s was slightly different in that it seemed to manifest a visual illusion instead of just appearing as a kind of colored glow created by the user’s agitated aether as was often the case.
As for Modeste, the young Owlkin stood silent and straight like a reed on a windless night. She observed her opponent watching him, clearly waiting for the half-elf to make the first move.
Oliver launched himself forward, his movement swift and efficient. Generations of weakness had taught the Ascelines to make the most of what little strength they had, now that his bloodline was allowed to properly express its strength the half-elf was instantly turned into a beast. A humanoid storm that ran as swift as the wind even without the use of a power.
Andrew was a little surprised when Modeste was able to respond to Oliver’s explosive charge. The young woman loosed a single whistle, a sharp, six note, noise that sounded vaguely like country music and was followed by the concrete of the ring rising up and forming a circular wall around the young woman.
Oliver’s fist impacted against the wall and Andrew watched as the wall crumbled. Collapsing into dust in a way that suggested that there’d been more behind the attack than simple force.
Andrew’s brow furrowed as he recognized a similarity between the effects of the half-elf’s attacks and certain rot and poison element magics he’d seen during his time in Abwickeln.
The owlkin whistled a second time, a brief eight note song that sounded vaguely like an excerpt from some EDM playlist. The half-elf disappeared. Andrew recognized it for what it was, it wasn’t quite teleportation. It wasn’t quite time-travel. It was something in-between.
The girl apparently knew how to q-step. Looking at the ripples of energy released by the maneuver it clearly wasn’t as refined as proper q-step but it still had the time restoring and space-displacing effects.
Modeste q-stepped behind Oliver and then dropped a blow into his back that sent him flying off the ring.
“Nh...And’s the match.” said Modeste. Her voice free of bragging, or any other emotions.
Oliver got up rubbing the back of his head, and glancing over at Andrew to see what his reaction to the loss was.
Andrew ignored the other boy. Arms crossed. He was going over the fight in his head. Using the information he could pull from the collective unconscious and the akashic realm to gain context on what he’d just seen.
“True enough...In a real fight she probably could have taken my head off.” said Oliver. Deciding that this was the best moment to play the part of a good sport.
Andrew just nodded. Agreeing with the other boy’s assessment.
“Your turn.” said Modeste. Her lukewarm gaze gaining a little heat.
Andrew climbed onto the ring and used the fights going on around him to decide how much pressure to put out.
The human and the owlkin regarded each other. Staring one another down. A full minute pissed without either of them doing anything. At the two minute mark Modeste grew impatient and said,
“Well? Come on, already.”
Andrew shrugged, and seeing that q-stepping was acceptable, He appeared right in front of the young woman driving his fist into her solar plexus.
The force behind his blow was enough to lift the young woman off of her feet. She wasn’t blown off the ring. She rose and then she fell, landing on her feet again.
Andrew stepped off the ring. Hands in his pockets. Modeste slowly crumbled behind him. The watery remnants of her breakfast and lunch spewed out of her as she fell on all fours. Andrew turned to Oliver.
“You can heal right?” said Andrew.
“Y-, Yeah. How’d you know?” said Oliver. Wondering how the other boy knew of the abilities of his [Aegis of Four Seasons]. Wondering if the boy had looked into the Asceline’s family’s background, and hoping that meant good things for their chances of being pulled under the boy’s umbrella.
“Mind, healing her? She can’t heal herself right now, and I think I might have overdone it.” said Andrew.
“...Sure.” said Oliver. Climbing up onto the stage, the illusion that flowed around him changing to one of green leaves, warm gentle rain, and blooming flowers.
Andrew walked away not looking back. He managed to make it out of the classroom before the trembling started. He sent a quick text to Sophia to let him know that he’d be home early.
There was something wrong with Andrew. He could feel it. The inner-rumblings that he’d taken to be mild intestinal distress had intensified and somehow spread into his brain and bones. His blood felt like it was boiling and freezing at the same time.
The fact he hadn’t been able to control his strength during the spar with Modeste was a sign of something having gone seriously array. The fact he didn’t dare try to heal the young owlkin was a sign that whatever was wrong was getting worse.
By his reckoning, Andrew was fairly sure if he’d tried to heal the young woman she’d have either exploded or turned into some kind of nightmare. The way reality rippled over and through Andrew’s body as he moved boded ill.
Andrew made it into hallway. He was about to step outside the building when suddenly two figures stepped into his path. Arms crossed and shoulders squared like bouncers at a nightclub.
Andrew recognized the faces of Thugs One and Two. Following this recognition the young man closed his eyes and prayed for patience because right now was the absolute worst time for this.
“Please move.” said Andrew.
“No can do. Boss has a little something to say to you.” said Thug One.
Andrew heard several footfalls and saw that the Thugs had brought their friends, whom Andrew quickly dubbed Thugs Three through Eight.
“You… Peasant. Just who the fuck do you think you are?” said a voice. Its tone both harsh and arrogant.
Andrew turned around and saw the silver haired Wolfkin standing behind him.
“Who are you again?” said Andrew. Frowning. His brow lowering as he realized that he’d never bothered to learn the name of his apparent ‘bully’.
Fortunately, the thin akashic feed that came parceled as part of Andrew’s connection to the collective unconscious supplied the name readily enough. Placing it into his head just as the infuriated young man in front of him began to look like he was on the verge of exploding.
“Ah, Julian Harrington. Now I remember. I don’t have time for this today. Can we do a raincheck.” said Andrew. His tone irreverent with just a hint of desperation leaking into his voice.
“No… No fucking rainchecks. You’ve been walking around all week like you’re hot shit. Kissing my girl. So no, We do this now! Right bloody now!”
Andrew blinked. For a moment it took him a second to try and connect which girl the other boy was talking about. As for as Andrew knew he’d kept his inner-manslut in control so for a good three seconds he was starting to wonder if this whole situation was a case of mistaken identity. That was how disconnected the young man’s statement was with reality.
“I am Julian motherfucking Harrington. Eldest Grandson of the great General Clifford Harrington. Heir to the Harrington family’s main branch. Sophia Luce was to be my bride. She’s not someone a peasant like you can touch. Now the only way you get out of here in one piece is if you get down on your bloody knees and swear you’ll never so much as look in her direction again. Otherwise, I swear to all the gods, and my family name, I’m gonna cripple you right fucking here and now.” said Julian.
Andrew blinked again. He felt a heading coming on. The feeling of agitation that had started in his stomach was now firmly in his brain and had become its own separate agitation. The sensation rippling outward and interacting with the first source of agitation to create an amplified sense of unease.
“You’re...Insane, you know that? Coming out here and trying all this ‘young lord’ shit. ” said Andrew. Sighing.
“Kneel or break, bitch! Your fucking choice!” growled Julian.
Andrew shook his head. Hearing a faint roaring in his ears and seeing strange visual aberrations that reminded him of a glitching video recording. His headache had groan from a dull ache to an intense pounding. Becoming a full body affliction of a magnitude that made him question how he was still standing.
“Look...I don’t know what your problem is, mate. Whatever it is... I’m sure that with the advancements in medicine these days, they probably make a serum for it. Now Sophia...Sophia is her own woman so honestly standing here yelling at me does nothing for you. And ultimately, I’m pretty sure she’d agreed that our relationship is none of your fecking business, mate. So I’ll say it one last time. Bugger off because if you force me you will not like what happens.” said Andrew. His hands pressed tightly together as if he were begging. His voice growing softer, lower, and colder with each word.
Julian turned red and then purple looking like an eggplant in a silver wig. Then he turned to his boys and snapped his fingers. Saying the phrase that everyone in the hall were sure he’d been dying to say all along.
“Break this bastard.”
A moment later, literally less than a second later, Professor Espina came running out into the hallway. She’d finally found where her missing lambs had gotten to. Except she’d found them too late.
Professor Espina wasn’t an incompetant teacher. Nor was she particularly nepotistic. The fact that the young Harrington heir and his entourage could sneak out of the class and crowd around another student as they had, was largely owed to the fact that she was teaching the class by herself.
Preoccupied with giving aid and advice to several pairs of teenagers, some of which were using their powers against another being for the second time in their entire lives.
As an associate professor, teaching a beginner level course, Octavia Espina, didn’t rate the assistants and aids that a tenured professor or a professor in a higher leveled course would get.
Thus it was that few but the exceedingly unreasonable, could blame her for not finding the boys before nine of them were reduced to broken, barely living, bodies.
Fortunately for the good Professor, it was clear that the boys’ injuries were due to a fight and the injuries themselves were still within a range that modern medicine could treat.
Under such circumstances imperial custom limited the amount of attention paid to the matter. Especially once it became clear that all nine boys had been beaten by a single assailant.