There were few things in this world that I really truly loved. My family, some of my friends, and my new workshop were all among them. During the days of my break I might have expected to have an actual break, but I would have been wrong. I needed to get things done in my shop, I needed to keep up with social events in the evenings, and my mother was insistent on me keeping up with my sword practice. There was a change at least on the last of them.

“Yours again,” mother said as I planted the point of the practice weapon into her belly.

“Good fight.”

“Not really, I'm completely out of practice.”

It turned out that my continued growth, added with the absolutely insane amount of practice that I was doing meant that I was now beating her consistently. It felt odd, winning against the person who'd managed to defeat me so soundly for all of my life, but it was bound to happen at some point. My magic was no weaker than hers, and with my size and simple practice, something she seldom did when I wasn't around, I'd gained much of what I needed to win.

I thought back to the first tourney I'd been in, how I'd thought of the adults as amazing, impossible for me to do. Now I could do many of the moves they'd done. That didn't mean I was the best by any means, as there were still even a lot of my fellow students that could keep up with me with ease.

Lucas for example was a better swordsman than I. He defeated me in the majority of our fights, though I'd like to think I gave him good fights. My goal wasn't to be the best as cutting people apart though, but rather to have a more mixed style. A blade and a firearm together seemed a better mix for me, since distance fighting was something many of our contemporaries lacked.

“I suppose you're growing up.” Mother sounded almost sad as she spoke.

“Oh, I like to think I've always been a bit older than I looked.”

She laughed at that. “Maybe, but you were a right little menace as a child. Always wandering off and disappearing, only to show up in the oddest of places. Why once our cook found you in the servants passages here in the house.”

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“I remember,” I told her, she was such a scared girl.

“You where what? Two? How do you remember that?” At my shrug she shook her head. “That memory, like your grandfather huh?”

“Suppose so.”

It was a point of fact that elves had a much better memory that humans, to the point that even I had noticed when I was young. Parts of my memory were so clear, not all of it, not even the majority, but sections that I knew were important were almost like a slightly blurry photograph.

“Son, promise me you won't do foolish things and get yourself killed.”

“I'll try.”

“That isn't what I asked for.”

“Perhaps not, but it is what I can give you.”

She looked like she wanted to argue, to fight me over it, but she didn't. She'd done so before, berated me, told me off, but now? Now she seemed afraid and sad, afraid that I would leave her, sad knowing that I would soon no longer be the child she'd seen for so long. Below it all though I could see more, just the barest hint of pride that I was growing well.

We spit soon after, both going to deal with the other tasks we had for the day. As I returned to my room I passed my sister in the hall, working hard while I was hardly working, cleaning all over under the watch of the older maids. She was good, very good, and improving steadily so far as I could tell. Of course there really was only so much I could tell, separated in status as we were. If I paid too much attention to her, or seemed too interested it could cause all kinds of problems, particularly with us both now hitting the cusp of adulthood. Others wouldn't understand my reasons, and I couldn't tell them without causing all sorts of trouble, but still I wanted to look out for her.

Back in my bedroom I got to my letters for the day. My plane project with grandpa was currently grounded, the craftsmen busy with a lot of other orders and being very careful about this odd one. It would take time, as many things did, the first prototype probably wouldn't be ready for a bit yet. That was frustrating, but I wouldn't forget about it, it wasn't like it was something new to me, or impossible.

The duke's people had sent a letter confirming they'd begun work on their first prototype revolvers, and would be getting back to me with supplies and questions soon. Both sets of grandparents had events they wanted me to show up to, nothing much, but things I needed to be there for. Lucas had sent me a threatening letter about what would happen if I misbehaved with his sister couched in friendly flowery nonsense, said sister had also sent me a letter, an almost daily occurrence. I responded to all of them as needed, managing not to laugh too hard at how much Lucas and I were alike.

Sighing I sat back, there was so much to do, and so little time to do it all in. There'd been no more attacks from the goblins at least, and I knew that the authorities were taking that quite a bit more seriously now. Time would tell, but surely we weren't done with them yet. As for the report that elves had been after the archmage, I didn't even know what to do about that, perhaps I'd ask grandpa for some lessons in the language, shore things up, yeah right, if I ever found any free time at all.

For now though? I think it was enough for me to get things in order and go back to school. There was much more to learn, much more to make, much more to prepare for, and there at least I'd be pretty safe. Headmaster Logan may have been the most demanding man I'd ever met, but he knew his business and I was sure that if any enemy showed up in his school they'd be regretting it sorely. Heck, I'd pay good money to see him fight any of the people who'd been giving me so much trouble of late, for I still remembered the beating I'd taken early on.