Aera sighed. Her voice echoed through the small multi-purpose room they’d scheduled for their evening tutoring sessions.

“I shouldn’t be surprised, the Visgolds are nothing if not aggressive,” Aera said. Hunter was taken off guard. That was the first sentence she’d ever spoke to him that wasn’t outright hostile or condescending.

“They’re a LockeMark family. Old, powerful, and influential, typically considered an extension of the Locke family itself— but most people won’t know about that. It lets them keep a degree of separation between themselves and the Visgolds, who end up responsible for doing a lot of the corporations’ dirty work,” Aera said as they switched to the next stretch in their warm up routine, “I’ve met Pippen before, and some of the people he, well, associates with.”

They finished the stretch, and Hunter waited to see if she’d say anything more. When nothing was forthcoming, he wondered if she was waiting for him to say something.

“So what do I do?”

“About what?”

“I mean, there’s something wrong with him. He seemed to have it out for me,” Hunter said. Aera laughed.

“You’re an Oberon, now. There’s millions of people who have it out for you for that fact alone. It’s something you’re going to have to get used to, Hunter. Now, you ready?” She asked, getting ready to start their drills.

“Sure,” he said. She tilted her head as she considered him. It was weird. Had something changed between them in the last couple of days? Was she finally backing off?

“Look, Barnum’s not just about earning Excellence, it’s about proving yourself. Not just to the school, but to your peers, your family, and your company. Think of it like a proving ground, a controlled microcosm for the world stage. You understand that LockeMark and Oberon have feuded before, right? I’m not just talking bidding wars, I’m talking actual battlefields.”

Hunter couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Battlefields? Like, actual wars? No way, I would have heard something—”

“—The amount you haven’t heard could fill a library, Hunter. The Seats might present a unified front, but behind the scenes, the men and women shaking hands at the televised conferences can be ordering each others people killed by the dozens. Sure, its not often, but it does happen.”

“So you’re saying that I need to be prepared for more Pippen Visgolds to appear,” Hunter said, after taking a second to digest what he’d just heard.

He’d heard rumors, conspiracy theories. But then he considered why corporations had such well armed security departments in the first place. He’d not thought very much about why Sly had been so well decorated.

“I feel like I have a lot to catch up on,” Hunter said, preparing to start practicing his jabs.

Aera declined to comment any further, and Hunters training began. 50 minutes later, exhausted and hurting, it was his turn to tutor her.

But not before wondering how different these sessions would have gone had he been stronger. He tried to ignore that line of thinking, but he was feeling a bit vulnerable now. When he was just supposed to outperform a few snobs in an artisanship class, he felt assured. In fact, as long as avoided people like Pippen, he didn't feel like he had much to worry about. As far as he was concerned, his biggest obstacles were going to be time management, and trying to actually deliver some value to Aera when it was his turn to tutor.

It was just as awkward as he'd thought. They’d spent most of the time figuring out what Aera did and didn’t know, and he had to admit that she knew all the basics pretty well.

Not nearly as well as he did, he thought, but then again, who did?

When he’d considered how to approach the session, he realized that he didn’t actually need to have much in the way of a gameplay. He figured he’d just ask her what she wanted to know, and they’d work their way towards that.

“I aim to earn a degree of Excellence,” she’d said— and Hunter couldn’t help it, he laughed. Her frown spoke of future punishments, and Hunter relented, but what more did he have to fear from her?

“I’m sorry, that won’t be possible,” Hunter said.

“Oh?” Aera asked, her tone casual, yet one of her hands were balled into a fist. Hunter held up both hands in surrender.

“It’s not possible because that’s where I'm earning my degree of excellence,” he said. Aera gave him a skeptical look.

“Look, I understand your deal with my father, but this isn’t some yearly competition, this is Barnum. The best of the best are coming here, you’ll find that you’re up against some very formidable and competitive minds.”

Hunter couldn't believe what he was hearing. She was skeptical about how he'd perform, but what was she thinking artisanship was? A matter of grit and determination? In front of Hunters advantage in this domain, that meant very little.

She thought he was out of his league.

She was even being polite. She was telling him that she didn’t think he stood much of a chance, but she was only trying to infer it.

She had no idea. Sometimes, Hunter mused, ignorance can be forgiven. She didn’t know what he could do.

“How much did Trey tell you about my results from the competition?”

Aera shrugged.

“He said that you distinguished yourself, for someone with such a low AR. And the fact that you’re the son of his old friend meant that you might have potential as a future Artisan,” Aera said, frowning— but it wasn’t a threatening frown like before. She was telling the truth, as far as he could tell.

A sense of giddiness welled up in his chest and he felt like he had a million things to say.

Did this explain why she had been so reluctant to accept Hunters presence? Trey had undersold his performance?

On paper, maybe it did seem kind of lackluster. But if she was out of the loop, if she wasn’t an artisan, then she wouldn’t know any better. Hunter had placed fifth in a competition. Sure, even he was slightly disappointed with his result, but that was more because of the fact that he lost to David Nettle and his team of baboons who screeched and hollered whenever he opened his mouth.

And, sure, maybe he’d expected to win the whole thing going into it, but he’d had a lot to learn about humility over that weekend. And it was enough that he took Aera’s words seriously. The people he was going to be competing with for that degree of Excellence weren’t to be trivialized. These were highly educated, and accomplished young men and women, at least for the most part. People like Jonathan Berrymoore and his team, who Hunter was sure he’d run into during his time here. They’d be studying in the same area. It was bound to happen.

Fortunately, he’d never had any trouble with them during the competition, so he remained open minded towards them.

“How interested are you in hearing about how severely your father undersold my performance?”

“Words are far less persuasive than actions. Had you placed first, then I would be interested in what you might have to say.”

“Then I'll tell you this much, there’s not a person our age who can compare to me in the knowledge about artisanship. Sure, my AR might be lacking, and sure, my father was a renowned artisan. But I’ve proven myself in my own right. Your father seems like a pretty smart guy, do you really think he’d give me this sponsorship if he thought I had mere potential?

She didn’t like his tone, apparently. He figured that he’d end it there, in the interest of self preservation.

“I think we’re both tired,” Hunter said, “consider what I've said. But I'm not going to take it back: that Excellence is mine. It doesn’t matter what I, or anyone teaches you. You won’t catch up to me, because you can’t. I was at a severe disadvantage during the completion and I still outperformed 90 percent of the competition by myself, with a fraction of any of their AR's, and completely exhausted.”

He left first that evening, feeling like it was a day stuffed full of significant firsts. It was his first real conversation with Aera, he’d had his first classes, his first encounter with Pippen Visgold; and Hunter Hunter was going to make it his personal mission to ensure that it was his last. But it was also his first time realizing that he hadn’t only assumed a mantle of privilege and responsibility with his new name. He’d also inherited deep grudges and rivalries which had lasted for generations. He had unknowingly stepped into a battlefield that he wasn’t prepared to fight in.

He considered Aera’s new attitude towards him. He didn’t know what had changed, but maybe it was a sign that he wouldn’t be completely alone in surviving the fights ahead. Maybe Aera was taking her fathers last-but-not-least rule to heart.

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

He would have to count on her to have his back.

The multipurpose room was a ten-minute walk from the apartment. Hunter figured that he’d have time to make it home, shower, and have some dinner before going to sleep.

Fate had other plans.

Shortly after leaving, he realized he was being followed. There weren’t many people out, and the ones who he thought were following him would take all the same turns that he did. He’d hoped that he was just being paranoid, but then some more people stepped in front of him from an alleyway, and pulled him to the side.

“Sit,” they said.

“Let me go—”

They shoved Hunter down into a bench. Hunter saw the people who’d been following him come around the corner, smiling. He didn’t recognize any of them. One of the stood watch at the end of the alley, and another was doing the same at the other end. He saw one or two people walking by, doing their best to ignore whatever was going on.

So this was how it was going to be, was it?

“Can we please not do this? I just want to get home,” Hunter said, knowing as he spoke that it wouldn’t be that easy.

One of the group, a man wearing a mask, slapped Hunter in the face.

It hurt. He’d felt numb from Aera’s training, but his body had time to interject its opinion about the poor treatment it had been receiving that evening. Every movement of his body was met with protestation.

“Remember, we can’t hurt him too bad,” the man said, stepping back.

The slap hurt, but it only joined the chorus of pain which was present everywhere else.

Another one stepped forward and slapped Hunter where his friend had, and laughed. The rest of the gang laughed with him, and then they all joined in, taking turns slapping, until they started getting bored.

One of them punched him in the gut. He felt that old familiar feeling of the air leaving his lungs, and he gasped for breath. They all kept laughing. Hunter fell off the bench, unable to control himself as his body curled up. They stopped taking turns, all punching and kicking, laughing and hollering.

“He’s so weak!”

“Did you see how he just curled up like that?”

“Oberon's standards are slipping if this is the trash they're bringing into the family.”

Hunter had never been beaten before. Not like this. He could feel his bones breaking. He still couldn’t breathe.

He wondered if he was going to die, as they beat him. He could taste blood in his mouth. He felt dizzy. He wanted to scream for help, but he still couldn’t breathe.

Then they relented, and left.

Hunter blinked, and he was being carried. There were voices. He blinked again, and he was in a bright room. A woman stood over him, talking to someone. Then Aera was there as well. She was angry.

He wanted to flinch, and get away. He didn’t want to deal with an angry Aera.

He couldn’t move, but at least there wasn’t any pain.

But at least he was alive. He wondered where the gang had gone. It had only been a few moments. Had Aera seen them? They couldn’t have gotten far.

Then Hunter slept. It could have been for a moment, it could have been for days. He woke up with the most intense headache he’d ever had. Easily ten times more intense than anything he’d felt during the competition. The sight that met him as he opened his eyes was horrific. His whole body was wrapped in a cast.

“What the fuck?” he whispered, “What the fuck?”

Then he remembered the attack, which had felt like it had only happened a second ago. He could still hear them laughing, and insulting him.

They were right, he really was weak. He wasn’t meant to be here. If this was what Aera had meant, if this was the kind of attention that came with being an Oberon, then he wouldn’t survive. It hadn’t even been a full day, and he was already like this? What state would he be in after a month?

Would he even be alive after a year?

A nurse came in and saw that he was awake, and asked him some questions. He told her his name, where he thought he was, the year, and the name of his father. She informed him that he was at the hospital, located just beyond the the Academy’s campus.

She called for a doctor to come to talk to him.

He didn’t have any good news.

“3 broke ribs, your right arm is broken in 2 different places. A broken collarbone, a broken shin, and your skull has a couple hairline fractures,” he'd said.

So that explained the pain. He wasn’t surprised that the damage had been so bad.

Most people might come away from that in much better shape. But Hunter felt certain that he’d nearly died. It was something he’d been avoiding his whole life. The Comics were the closest he’d gotten, and felt like he’d escaped them by the skin of his teeth. It was almost like the universe had it out for him, where he managed to avoid his cosmic punishment in one domain, it brought it to him in another.

But what had he done to deserve this?

“Who?” Hunter asked. It was all he could manage. It hurt to talk.

The doctor sighed.

“We don’t know. There will be a detective arriving here, soon. They’re going to ask you questions, and it’ll be their job to determine that. I’ll let you get some rest now, Hunter. I’m sure you have a lot of questions, but they can wait. I’ll inform your sister, she’s been asking about you every day.”

Sister? He thought, considering the strange word. Then he remembered.

Right, Aera.

She’d been asking about him? Every day? That didn’t sound like her.

“Thanks,” Hunter said. The doc smiled and nodded.

There was a small television in the corner of the room, it was playing cartoons. He never really liked cartoons, but he was grateful for the distraction.

----------------------------------------

Aera paced her room, thinking. She’d decided she’d skip her next class— she was three months ahead of everyone else, so she wasn’t worried about missing anything important.

Hunter was an Oberon. They might have their differences, he might be stubborn and naive and be aiming way above what he’s capable of, but they shared a name. That made an attack on him an attack on her.

Someone had fucked up.

This never should have happened.

Someone was being careless, at best. At worst, they were making a declaration of war.

Aera would be acting on the latter assumption. Her fury would settle for no less. She would scorch the earth.

People didn’t know about Hunters frailty. They were probably trying to make a statement— a bold statement. Too bold. To jump straight to violence out of the gate? Aera had been studying the unofficial histories of Barnum, at her fathers behest. He told her that there would be a pecking order, and she would be at the top of it. That meant it was up to her to help keep the peace, without trampling over the ambitions of those under her influence.

But this was an attack on Oberon. Fuck peace.

There was always a shadow side to things, and at Barnum this was especially true. You couldn’t bring the gathered interest of the worlds’ greatest powers together without sacrificing power of your own, and Barnum appeared to make this sacrifice willingly for the sake of prestige. The children who attend this place had a lot of influence, but they had to be careful. It was in everyone’s interest to keep this little game— this microcosm of global power— running. That meant that they needed to stay civilized. At least for the most part.

The drama was usually more controlled. Sometimes things got out of control, but they took time to get out of control.

The stakes had been escalated too early.

There was the possibility that his had been a random act of violence, but thinking that way felt useless to her. The odds were pointing to this being targeted. Hunter was a relatively unknown variable, and the powers that be would have wanted to probe at him, find out who he was, and how he would respond. This is how the game was played— measured actions, with an aversion to excess risk.

Thus, her conclusion that someone fucked up. They’d overestimated Hunter, and now they would have to pay the price. This would set the tone for the rest of their time at the academy— or at least the rest of her time.

A counter-statement would need to be made, not with words, but with actions.

No one fucks with the Oberons. Not if they want a bright and healthy future.

So she had taken most of the day off to come up with a plan. It wasn’t as much time as she’d like, and she didn’t know enough to take any concrete action.

That was frustrating.

Hunter had nearly been killed on Academy grounds. Her father was furious and had started to devote resources to his own investigation, but he would have about as much luck as she was having. He’d threatened to have Hunter brought back to the Oberon domain, but she’d calmed him down, and convinced him to wait for Hunter to decide if that’s what he wants. As loathed as she was to admit it, she and Hunter shared some things in common, chief among which appeared to be a refusal to quit once they’d set their minds to something. She’d been ruminating over the way he’d spoken up to her at their session, and she was reluctant to admit that she was impressed.

She’d thought— even hoped— that Hunter would prove to be mediocre at best, that his skills as an artisan, though sufficient to make it to the top 5 of a global competition, would prove insufficient to give him any hope of attaining the coveted degree of Excellence.

She’d wanted to dismiss his entire rant from the session last night. But she'd caught herself, and considered what he’d said.

He was right, her father wasn’t a fool, and although her father could make some impulsive decisions, they were usually measured to a degree sufficient enough to avoid significant loss.

What’s more, is that when he knows he’s taking a risk, he’s quick to admit it. So far, he’d been resolute in his decision with Hunter. As far as she was concerned, her father already saw Hunter as one of them— whether she or Hunter agreed with that assessment or not.

She considered what she knew, and admitted that it’s possible she’d been selling Hunter short. Her emotions had clouded her judgement. She’d been too prideful to see it. She’d lost her integrity in the pursuit of what could very well have been nothing but her own childish immaturity. That’s not to say she was now Hunters biggest fan, but she was more open to seeing him as an asset, instead of a burden, and that just gave her more fuel to burn the hot fury she’d been stoking all day.

To attack Hunter was to attack her, and to attack her was to attack her father.

What frustrated her was that there were too many variables. She did have one lead, though. He’d mentioned Pippen Visgold.

Pippen was one of Jason’s friends. That bothered her. The implications only spiraled downwards in severity. Confronting Pippen would do nothing— not unless it was part of a bigger play. Whether he had a part in Hunters’ condition or not, she needed to approach this carefully. She needed evidence, and a solid plan.

She needed to get even. Someone skipped the foreplay and pulled out the big guns. Aera wasn’t afraid of violence, but she knew that there was a time and a place for it. And she would be damned sure that there would be a time and a place for it. Her ancestors never shied away from battle. It was time to teach the world that she was nothing if not a daughter of the Oberon.

She rang Jason’s number.

“You’ve got Jason,” he said.

“Its me,” Aera said.

“Aera, darling. Good to hear your voice. You know, I was just thinking about how disappointed everyone was that you couldn’t attend our little club. You wouldn’t happened to have changed your mind about that in the last day or two, would you?”

Aera almost threw up, but she composed herself.

“Actually, I have. When did you say the next club meeting would be?”

She could feel Jason’s creepy smile over the line.

“What a coincidence, we’re going to have another one tonight, actually. Everyone will be so pleased to hear that you’ll be participating in—”

“—No, not participating. I’ll just be there to watch. And make some money, of course.”

“Oh,” Jason said, the disappointment in his voice was almost genuine, “Well, it would have been great to see the great Aera Oberon show off in person. But nevertheless your presence is welcome. As far as money making opportunities go,” Jason paused, and Aera wanted to roll her eyes, “I’m sure you won’t be disappointed.”

He gave her an address, a password, and a time to show up at.

She hung up first.

She wanted to throw the phone across the room.

She couldn't believe she walked past that damned alleyway on her way home. She’d walked right past Hunter, and he must have been lying there, unconscious. She hadn’t even noticed.

Her phone rang. She briefly considered whether she should answer it. It could be Jason, and that would be regrettable.

She answered it anyways. It was a nurse.

Hunter was awake. She was out the door in seconds.

She needed to know what he knew.

No one fucks with the Oberons.