Talent’s POV

Talent sat at a table in the library loft, or more accurately atop a few boards placed in the rafters. He’d made this place for himself when he first learned to fly, in part for practice but mostly to have a quiet retreat.

He was sure that by now the staff had noticed, but only some of the magistrates had learned to fly, making this the most secure of his various secret spots. Not that he was worried, he just liked having somewhere he could be alone and think.

This morning, he was using the space to escape the noise of the manor. His father was hosting a party to celebrate his safe return, which was stupid. It had already been a month since his arrival, and there had already been a party—granted, he never attended that party. He should have just gone, it would’ve been better than getting overwhelmed by some trash in front of his father. At least the event would remind that ant of his proper place.

Talent sighed and shook his head. That damn ant. His father was a great man, a powerful man and an important one, and yet he was treating that number like a son. Whatever ambiguity of his intentions initially existed was fading quickly and Talent thought it all but certain the boy would be named as an heir, perhaps even at this party. Talent was certain he would have to fight with the ant to keep the title, and it infuriated him.

The high lord was definitely giving up on Talent. His escape from the Raven’s nest clearly wasn’t enough to offset his string of failures. Talent knew he was running out of time. If he didn’t figure out something soon, he would be reduced to a servant. Just another piece on his father’s board to play with and sacrifice as needed.

It was unacceptable. Talent was not a pawn to be pushed about.

With a muted grunt Talent knocked a stack of books from his table. They fell to the floor below, making a satisfying thud and eliciting a yelp from Ellie, the young attendant tasked with the many shelves organized.

Talent breathed deeply, trying to calm himself. He hated how much that boy affected him. He was insignificant and Talent found himself thinking of the boy more and more each day. He ought to have occupied his time with thoughts of Mila, or plans and training routines that might help him get stronger. Instead, he was constantly worried about the boy. It was ridiculous. That ant should be worried about Talent, not the other way around.

“Scaring the help is not Lordly behavior.” Sandra scolded as she landed beside him, the sound of her light steps echoing in the loft. Talent wasn’t surprised she came. He was probably late for ant tutoring duties and she was asked to find him. “You are not a child anymore. If you’re going to be the next lord, you should start acting like one.”

He scoffed. “If is the key word there.”

Sandra shrugged. “Well it’s not like you actually want to be anyway.”

“No, no I don’t… or I didn’t think that I did; but now that he has that boy…” Talent shook his head. “…it’s my birth right, not his.”

Sandra nodded. “I can see that, but you need to stop sulking and do something about it then.”

Talent glared at her, but he couldn’t argue. He had to do something. Even if he wasn’t quite sure what yet. “I’ll think of something.”

Sandra grinned. “Good. Now, get your ass downstairs and do your job.”

Talent huffed, but followed Sandra down then hurried out to the courtyard, where he knew the ant would be waiting.

As expected, the boy sat in the middle of the yard, his legs crossed and his eyes closed, meditating.

Talent felt the urge to kick him, but instead settled for kicking a stone at him. A translucent barrier popped into existence shielding the boy, then burst apart as the stone clattered away.

“Impressive, so now you can defend yourself, sort of.” Talent mocked as he circled the boy, envisioning how could make a fun lesson out of this.

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Without opening his eyes, Ant replied, “I think I managed better than you at Ashil.”

Talent scoffed, “That was different. There was more happening.”

“Yea, and you just ran.”

Talent’s eye twitched. He didn’t like how confident the boy was acting, not at all. Talent was a thousand times more talented and as he recalled, “You ran too!”

The ant chortled, opening his eyes and standing up to face to Talent. “I did. And then I got captured because I tried to save your ass. I thought you appreciated that, I actually believed you when we first arrived and you said you wanted to helpme.”

Talent glowered, he had said that, and he did appreciate what the ant did, but that didn’t change how he felt. The ant still deserved his place in the dirt, and Talent was going to teach him that. “Whatever, it’s training time.”

Talent summoned a fireball in his hand and threw it at the boy. Dominant yelped and dodged the flame. “Hey! You can’t just—”

The boy didn’t finish his sentence as Talent threw a few more balls of fire. He didn’t actually have a plan this time, no real goal in mind, so he figured he may as well just try to overwhelm the boy. He wasn’t expecting Dominant to dodge the attacks, but Talent thought he must have gotten lucky with the first. There was no way his reflexes were truly so sharp.

Talent was a judge and Dominant was just a number pretending to be special. The boy shouldn’t have been able to dodge such an attack much less block, even if he did manage a barrier by some fluke. It wasn’t possible for him to form a strong enough—

The three fireballs exploded on Dominant’s summoned shield, but the boy was unharmed, and a smug grin spread over his lips.

Talent was a bit shocked, he wasn’t expecting Dominant to block his attacks, much less to do so so effectively. His blood ran hotter and his heart beat faster, but Talent was determined not to show it. He couldn’t let Dominant see him sweat, so he smirked instead and formed another ball of fire, throwing it at the boy. Ant spun around the ball as easily as Talent might squish a bug, but he left himself open.

Talent felt a wide grinned tug his lips open as he snapped his fingers and a spark of electricity flashed between him and the number. He expected the boy to fall to the ground and writhe in pain, but he didn’t, and Talent didn’t know why, not until he saw the shield flicker out of existence. “You’re using the same damn shield?”

Dominant shrugged and sent a wave of wind toward Talent. Talent countered with his own, forming a barrier of wind that blocked the attack.

Talent was annoyed and impressed. He could tell the boy wasn’t as powerful as him, but he was resourceful and far cleverer than he seemed. The duel was almost fun, until Talent realized that he was emboldening this foolish number. He needed to stop holding back and show the bow what true power really was.

Talent brushed aside a flaming orb countering with a barrage of stone bullets and six vine whips. Each vine reached for a different limb, four for his arms and legs and two for his neck and torso. As the boy tried to dodge and block the bullets,Talent formed a large water bubble to encase him. This time he didn’t intend to hold back, he would drown the ant, or strangle him with the vines, either way, it didn’t matter as long as he won.

Talent’s heart raced as he watched Dominant struggle against the attacks. It was satisfying. He didn’t notice at first, but the boy had a weak wind barrier up. It looked like he was trying to make a wind sphere to repel all of the attacks. He might’ve succeeded, but Talent increased the pressure of the water bubble until the barrier collapsed.

Dominant’s eyes flashed with panic, his hands pulled toward his mouth, but the vines tightened around them.

He was trapped. Talent only had to wait and soon his troubles would be over. His father would realize his mistake, and Talent would slip right back into his old groove.

A bone crushing pressure gripped Talent as Dominant’s turned red. The boy opened his mouth, apparently saying something, but Talent only heard “Blub,” as a single air bubble drifted away. The water around him vibrated and the pressure on Talent intensified.

He was a judge and he was far more powerful than the boy. He could endure.

Talent did not want to relent, but every fiber of his being told him that he had to. His ears rang with bursting pain, his limbs felt heavy and weak, his chest squeezed tight as his throat dried out and turned to sand paper. The pressure on his head was so great that he thought his head might explode.

Talent knew these sensations all too well. This is what it felt like to defy a judge, but the boy was just a number. He should not be capable of rulings, much less a ruling strong enough to impact Talent. Yet, the pain was real.

With a haggard growl, Talent released his hold on the spell and fell to his knees. Air rushed into his lungs in a deep and painful breath.

As he looked up from the ground he saw Dominant coughing up water and shaking his head. The boy’s clothes were drenched and clinging tightly to his body, highlighting the lean muscle developed over years working in harsh conditions. Physically, the boy looked to be in great shape, but as his aura receded, Talent noticed several oddities about the way mana moved through his body.

The boy should be dead, or at the very least crippled. He was broken, his body wasn’t even capable of supporting his own magic. Talent didn’t understand how, but somehow his own magic was harming him even as it tried to heal him.

There was more going on that Talent couldn’t understand, but he knew that Dominant was unstable. For all his power and potential, he was dying. The boy would not be alive long enough to steal Talent’s birthright.

Talent couldn’t help the smile that crept onto his face at the thought.