Novels2Search

Chapter 004

~~~(Caleb)~~~

The instructors push us harder and harder every day and we grow stronger and stronger the longer we endure this training. I'm still not fully able to fight, but I am able to disable my opponent. If I push myself, I can manage an instant-kill strike. Jared finally let up on the crappy treatment of me, but it's only given him more time to make fun of or taunt or tease or whatever else he does to the rest of my team. I'm not sure how long the temporary peace between the two of us will last since he still sees me as weak since as I still have some issues with fighting.

Today is one of the few cases where we can rest for more than usual. Instead of just the usual educational block, all of today is education. History, types of monsters, aura theory, languages, and more. We were woken early for the lessons, had to wait a long time for breakfast, and then went through several more hours of just lessons. I have no doubt that dinner will be followed by an exam to see how much of it we're retaining. For failing said exam, we'll be sent on the trail with weighted bags.

That's mostly because I heard them thinking about it. Fowl had to warn them to keep their thoughts about what we're doing when we're not supposed to know what's coming to only when I'm definitely asleep.

I don't think he knew I was awake when he told them that.

Colonel Garth enters the room, and he immediately gives me a look, aware that I can hear his thoughts.

Don't answer any questions.

Topic: Abilities. The fact that I have this Ability means I likely know more about Abilities than most, which can be troublesome if they're trying to do a rush education. He doesn't want me answering when the others need to learn.

The others who, much like me, suffer from extreme mental exhaustion while our bodies manage to gain a little bit of rest. I'm able to compensate through my passive territory and magic, and I think the instructors are a little frustrated by that.

I'm glad for my magic. This amount of sun was agitating my skin, having never felt it before. Through magic, I'm able to minimize the effects. A little redness at first, but it faded as my skin tanned. No burns, like some of the others who weren't used to being in the sun all day.

Seeing how bad they were at first, I know I would have been terrible. My skin was far paler than theirs, just like everyone born and raised in a territory lacking sunlight. My skin was a little darker than most there, though.

No one knows why, but it's theorized that one of my parents probably wasn't from there, but somewhere that had sun, and so they hadn't developed the paleness of the people from realms of eternal night.

"Five, sir!" Nick says, and I look over at him.

He's standing with his arms at his sides and back straight, but his chin is just slightly too low. Everyone's at their limits today and we haven't even done any physical training, just sat in these seats. They've not allowed us to stand apart from when they call upon us, too.

It's another test, another form of training. Even our meals took place in here.

"Incorrect," I involuntarily say, and Nick glances over at me.

"How so?" Colonel Garth asks.

"I know of," I state. "Six primary categories, with five of them being actual Ability Types, and the sixth, a lesser-known one, containing all the Types that don't fit into those. Any Ability within that sixth Ability Type, or Special-Type, is automatically considered S-Rank. To denote their official ranking, the GSDF began utilizing multiple characters, with the first S being for the first level, the second letter being for the second level, and so on, up to four levels of Ability rankings. If the Sage were a Superhuman, he'd have likely broken through and become a fifth-level in the rankings. Kieran is an S-A. He's an S-Rank Superhuman, and among Specials, he's an A-Rank."

"Barker!" Garth snaps, and she shoots to her feet, standing at attention. "What are the other five Ability Types?"

"Enhancer, Manipulator, Creator, Elemental, and Transmuter, sir!" She answers.

"Kaeler!" Garth barks, and she shoots to her feet. "Give me an explanation of Transmuters!"

"Yes, sir," she responds. "Transmuters are Superhumans capable of altering the physical properties of either themselves or another object. The majority can transform themselves into a type of animal, such as Colonel Fowl and Colonel Terrier. Some are capable of transmuting the properties of their bodies into things such as metal, giving them an Enhancer effect, or the properties of other items, such as making a metal staff liquid or electric, mimicking the power of an Elemental."

"Can anyone expand on that?" Garth looks around, and when no one answers, he gives me a look that tells me not to even think about responding. "Very well, then! Transmuters can do far more than that! Most Superhumans who make it to Rank B or A can imitate another Ability Type to a small degree! S-Ranks can do it to a large degree!

"However!" Garth begins walking up down the rows of desks. "That doesn't mean that they are limited to only one or two minor things! Yes, most Transmuters are able to transmute their bodies into the forms of animals, even if they can't remove mass, and they must keep it the same! And yes, they're able to change the properties of other items if their Ability works in that manner!

"They can do many more things!" He continues. "When I was first an official agent, having just graduated from full training, I came across a Transmuter who makes Colonel Fowl look weak! He could transmute energy itself, and all forms of it, too! I watched him as he converted magical energy into a barrier of air! The magician had thrown a death spell at him! Highly illegal, might I add, but that didn't matter for the Colonel I met simply converted it the moment he sensed the energy leaving the magician! When he did that, he transmuted it so that it would explode outwards, toward the magician. They can do more than simply change its properties – they can weaponize it. It is the art of alteration itself, turning one thing into another. Often called alchemy, transmutation is a vastly underrated Ability.

"There's a B-Rank Transmuter," he stops walking and looks around at the room, gesturing for the standing cadets to sit, and they do. "Who can transmute the living – but not in the typical fashion. He was a few training groups back, and while he was here, he first revealed his Ability to the others when a member of his squad got injured.

"Her hand was stepped on by a student much like Fuller, and it left a deep cut in her hand that should have made it difficult for her to continue training for a few days, but not badly enough to force her to drop out. Alcher immediately went to his squadmate, grabbed the girl's hand, and while ignoring the taunts from some of the other cadets, challenged his Ability, transmuting the blood that was leaving her hand, redirecting it as he transformed it to flesh, healing her wound entirely. Quite the practical application of it, and I do have to say that Fowl was impressed by the Ability when he first heard of it! Though don't ever tell Alcher that, you ever see him. Fowl isn't one to compliment people."

I think Garth is getting tired, too. He's been stuck with us all day, even if the other instructors have been popping in to assist. Garth is the one best-suited to this and they know that toward the end of the day, he starts to loosen up.

Thankfully, most cadets are too exhausted to notice that he's slipping and take advantage of it.

Thankfully? That's the instructors' thoughts about this.

Unfortunately for Colonel Garth, I'm not quite that exhausted. I may be draining a little bit of energy from the air, but not from anyone in particular.

I'm starting to get tired, too, I'm just taking longer than the rest. I've caught my mind slipping a few times already.

"Sir!" I raise a hand.

"Cadet Rivers!" Garth glares at me.

"Was Cadet Alcher B-Rank when he started BT?" I ask. "Or at its completion? Or is that just where he's at now?"

"When he started," Colonel Garth answers. "He's A-Rank, now. It's rare to make it to S-Rank, though I believe that if he continues to apply himself and train with his Ability, he might reach it within a decade."

"Could he mend a broken arm?"

"Not back then," Garth answers. "But he can now. Did his first break a few weeks ago. That's not easy for him to manipulate, Transmuters have limited manipulation ability with the things they transmute. A-Rank and S-Rank can to a decent degree, while those below can move them in a barely perceptible way. E-Ranks can't do it at all. Mending a broken bone takes a lot of finesse."

"I've never had an issue with it."

"You've also proven yourself," Garth continues. "Capable of using magics we've thought lost. I'm sure mending a bone is far less of an issue for you than it is for modern magicians."

"Magic is an extension of our bodies," I shrug. "It's like a muscle. Once you first feel it, you can flex it, just like any muscle in your body. As you get familiar with that particular muscle, you gain control over it, and it gets stronger the more you train it. At the same time, it's an extension of our will. If we can think of it, we can do it with magic. It's why I'm able to imitate Abilities with my magic – all I have to do is will it to happen and it does. Magic is the most flexible thing in existence."

"Which is why," Garth says. "We're surprised you came here and not to the GMDF. You'd be a prodigy there."

"I'm sure Fowl told you about my Ability," I say. "Considering that you told me not to give any answers via thought, and that Fowl instructed all of you to keep from thinking about anything we're not supposed to know unless you're positive I'm asleep. Not that doing that can fully keep it from me, but being the expert that you are, you'd know it's one of three Abilities."

"Yes," Garth confirms. "Fowl told me which Ability you have. I never believed I'd live to meet someone who had it. He said you claim there are three?"

"Teacher, myself, and one with an identity unknown," I nod. "After BT ends and we enter into the two-week rest period before we move on to the rest of the two years of our training, I plan on speaking with Teacher to see if he can divine who it is. Of course, that's if my scrying attempt fails. I'm sure Teacher would like to know who the third is, since he told me he only knew of himself and myself as those with this Ability who live right now."

"What's Teacher like?" He asks. "Your record says you speak of him highly."

"He's quiet," I answer. "Like I am when I'm not explaining something. Imagine a wiser, ancient, and more powerful version of me. And unlike exhausted instructors, he can't get led off-topic."

"How ancient?" Garth asks, then pauses, blinks at me, then laughs. "Point taken! You did that easily."

"I learned from Teacher."

Teacher taught me that unless prepared, anyone can be redirected from their original train of thought. He used it on me quite often until I learned to keep my train of thought moving in the same direction no matter how tired I grew.

I got bored and wanted to make sure he realized he was starting to slip up. He wasn't catching it, so I decided to make the implication a little more obvious.

"And for the record," I add. "Transmuters can alter flavors or smells. They can change colors of an item, make it softer or harder, turn it into another object, and a variety of other things. It is the art of altering the properties of an object or being, and its applications can be pretty vast, when you think in the abstract sense of it. That's why there are people who can use it to heal instead of change their form, sir."

Garth smiles and shakes his head, then returns to the lesson about Abilities. He doesn't touch on any I don't already know about, so I tune him out while thinking about the future.

I almost miss it. I'm getting tired enough that my perception is slipping. Sitting outside the classroom and watching me through the window is a butterfly with crystal-clear wings with faint, silvery lines that slowly change their design, giving the butterfly a beautiful, serene, mystical appearance.

One of Teacher's many familiars.

He's watching me here? I haven't sensed any of his familiars before, yet I can sense Tukuku very clearly, when I don't tune his signals out. Bad habit of mine.

No, you haven't been missing us. I was passing by and decided to check on your progress.

You were passing by?

My master is still currently hunting down some things and I have been flying across the continent out of boredom. I went to the zoo again yesterday. It's very nice. A couple of weeks ago, I went to a butterfly garden over in Trumas. Confused the heck out of the workers there while entertaining some of the kids. Nothing like a butterfly that can think far above the level of a butterfly to steal the show.

What did you do?

Gathered up some of the others and performed a show. And maybe turned neon green the hair of one of the workers.

As mischievous as always, Tukuku.

Stop calling me that! That's not my name!

It's what stuck.

You've even gotten my master calling me that. It's Tukunurar.

Tukuku works better. Hold on.

"There's a three hundred year-old butterfly outside the window, sir," I look at Garth. "He was currently arguing with me about his name. Now, to answer the question no one else could, it's that supposedly no one knows the true origins of Abilities themselves, though there are a wide variety of theories on it. That is why everyone who answered gave a different reason or a variation of a reason already given. Teacher said that they're all wrong."

"Did he say what was the right way?" Garth asks.

"He claimed to not know," I answer. "And said that if he figured it out, he'd tell me first."

He's still working on it, too. It's really annoying him that he can't figure out the origin of Abilities.

"You hush," I look out the window. "Go back to dying hair."

Okay.

Tukuku flies off, and I look back to Garth, who has an eyebrow raised. I do the same thing, and we stare at each other for several long seconds.

"Dying hair?" The instructor asks.

"I do have my own theory, of course," I ignore the inquiry. "And I've even mentioned it to at least one person here, but until I perform further research, I won't be able to prove it. I won't elaborate past that as I have no concrete evidence yet."

Garth nods, and then there's a knock at the door.

"Enter," Garth calls, and the kitchen staff enters. "Dinnertime! You have twenty minutes to eat and rest! Then we'll resume class!"

Everyone talks in a small murmur during dinner, a meal of burgers and fries today, though in a more healthy fashion than we'd find at most restaurants outside of here. Less grease involved and healthier, more organic ingredients used. They want to give us hot food, but they don't want to ruin our bodies. This training period is about honing them, after all.

After dinner, everyone is handed a test and told that their day is done once they complete the test.

After half an hour, I turn in my test and leave, the first student to finish. I make my way down to the laundry room and begin today's chore duties. I'll save the load of what we're wearing now for last, since everyone has to finish the test, but I can get started on some of the other loads, such as bedclothes and the combat training outfits.

"Pretty sure," Jared says when he enters the laundry room. "Half the questions weren't even in any lesson we were given."

"They weren't," I answer. "It's partly to see what we already know. Teacher taught me all of that and more."

"Was that butterfly really three hundred?"

"He claims to be," I answer. "And Teacher commented about his three hundredth birthday to me, so I'm pretty sure they are. Teacher misdirects me, but he never flat-out lies to me."

"How did you stay alert?" Jared yawns. "The rest of us were falling asleep."

"By draining energy," Kieran answers, startling Jared. "You should work on your reflexes, seeing as you jump every time I appear. If I were an enemy, I'd kill you before you noticed me. Become more observant."

"Says the guy who can alter people's perceptions of him," Jared counters. "I still can't figure out a way to see you there, since I can't perceive you at all. I can see what's around you, and what's behind you, but not you, yourself. It's almost like you're invisible."

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

"What's up, Kieran?" I start the second load.

"I felt a powerful presence on the property," he answers. "But couldn't locate it accurately. No one knows how it got here, and it felt really small, despite its power. It was outside the classroom you guys were in for a few minutes before it left, completely ignoring the barrier as it passed through. I was wondering if you sensed it."

"Probably Tukuku," I answer. "He's a butterfly and he's one of Teacher's familiars. He's ancient and powerful and was dropping in to see how I was doing in my training as he passed by."

"And he dyes?" Jared asks.

"He likes to cause some mischief."

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<(Jared)>

Caleb returns to putting the laundry in the wash and I make my way up to my room. Kieran followed me for a minute before disappearing off into the other dorms, though I'm not sure why. He disappeared when he went down the hall that leads to the weaker squads, so he probably doesn't want to be seen for whatever he's planning.

He's willing to let me see him more often lately and I'm not sure why. I have to wonder if it has anything to do with Caleb helping me reach A-Rank.

That boy is an enigma. I've never heard of a Superhuman who uses magic, and he uses both. Well, he uses magic and refuses to use his Ability, but he has both. He still hesitates in combat training, but he's getting better at going for an instant-disable. He prefers to disarm or disable over killing, which will bite him in the ass one day if he's not careful.

He's also wise beyond his years. When I look into his eyes, I see the wisdom of a thousand people. He thinks a lot and he's got this thing he does with his lips when he gets deep in thought. Not quite pursing them, but it's kind of adorable the way he does it.

Even though we sat at a desk all day, I still take a shower just because it's something to do, something that gets me moving without preventing me from being able to go to bed easily. Then again, I don't think any of us will have an issue.

The issue will be the Squads who have to do chores. They'll have a hard time staying awake.

One of the Squad Eight kids collects everyone's clothes from today and brings them down to Caleb. That boy seems to like doing everyone's laundry. I'm not entirely sure why because that's a servants' job and even if he's been timid, he's never come off as being the servant type.

He's powerful, I'll give him that, but he's still an annoyance. He's still a coward despite his recent willingness to fight. I need to make sure he knows that I disprove, but I'll figure something out later.

For now, there's other stuff I want to do. I think Nick's taking care of the kitchen so I head down to check.

Yup, he's mopping it right now, the dishes already finished. That was fast. Then again, when four kids work together and have for weeks, they tend to work faster. Though there's also the possibility that the staff might have done some of the dishes, too. Every now and then, the staff complete part of the chores while we're all distracted, to help out a little bit.

"Hey, Nick," I walk over to him, hands in my pockets, pretending to not realize he's mopping. "How do you think you did on the test?"

"I just mopped over there," he barely looks at me. "Do you think you can go somewhere I haven't mopped yet?"

"Over here?" I ask, taking a few steps to the side. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't notice."

"That's bullshit, and you know it," he says. "Now get out of the kitchen."

"Or what?" I ask.

"Just get the hell out of the kitchen."

"No," I tell him. "I can be wherever I want and there's not a thing you can do to change that."

He clenches his right hand into a fist, and I know he's trying his hardest not to create a rock to throw at me. It's something he does when he gets annoyed too much when he's exhausted. I love annoying these weaklings. All he can conjure are small pebbles, not even useful for anything.

Part of the reason I still dislike Caleb is because he stands up for these weaklings, as if they could actually be useful. It's not like they can do anything helpful in a fight. There's going to be a battle between the units at the three youth training branches here in a few weeks. Squad Eight will be the reason we fail, just as this branch has done for decades. Over a hundred battles, and Alzir Branch hasn't won a single one.

I smile at Nick, wish him a good night, then go to locate Owen, who usually grabs everyone's mail to hand it out.

"Get anything from your sister?" I find him in the small lounge we have, a stack of mail sitting on the table he's at, along with a couple of packages.

"Nah," he answers. "I think she forgot about me. You, on the other hand, received a package."

He gestures to the larger of the two packages. Whoever made it wrapped the box in brown paper and tied it with twine, a note stuck underneath the twine.

Carefully, I remove the letter and for a return address to find out who it came from, but I find nothing. Nothing on the letter or the box. Suspicious, but I'm sure that our mail is somehow scanned for threats. Probably through magic of some sort.

I open the letter and begin to read, recognizing the handwriting almost immediately, a recognition that tells me why no return address was marked on them.

Brother,

If Mom and Dad knew I was doing this, I would get into so much trouble. It took me forever to find you, which I'm sure was your intent. In fact, I doubt you intended for us to locate you at all.

Mom and Dad are furious that you ran away. You didn't even take much with you – just some clothes to wear, some food to eat, and a small amount of money, likely enough to live on until you got there. Picking up your trail was hard.

They say you did it to be rebellious, and that's probably true, but you also did it to see how hard you can push yourself, to see if you could meet people stronger than you so that you could excel even more just to beat them. Nothing like a good opponent to make you stronger.

I hope you've found your rival, someone more powerful than you, another cadet who is strong enough to make you truly wish to excel, someone you challenge yourself against time and again to try to exceed the power of, and I wish you luck in becoming S-Rank, as you so truly desire. If you haven't already reached A-Rank, I'm sure you will soon. If you have, then congratulations.

Best of luck to you, Brother – Taylor.

My little brother found me and sent me a letter and what's likely a care package. I snip the twine with the knife Owen hands me, then open the box up.

"You know," Owen says as I look inside. "It's not often for you to show a sensitive side. In fact, I think you just did it for the first time, Jared. Girl you're crushing on?"

"Little brother," I correct. "He's been in a wheelchair since birth and all the money in the world can't fix his legs. He's a Superhuman as well, and he falls into the Special-Type with his Ability. Mom and Dad don't know it, though – I'm the only one he's shared his Ability with."

"You haven't received mail before," Owen comments, and I know what he's saying.

"I didn't leave home on good terms," I admit. "I, ah, ran away. I took just enough to get me here and no more. Taylor said that our parents are furious at me for running off, but he understands why I did. He's ten, but he's smart. He's happy for me, and…"

I sigh, pulling out the items in his care package. Some candy, a jar of peanut butter, marshmallows, chocolate-hazelnut spread, crackers, mineral water, a first-aid kit, and underneath it all, something that makes me stop what I'm doing and stare.

"Hey, Caleb," Owen snaps me out of my trance. "You got mail again."

"Thanks," Caleb collects his three letters.

That boy gets more mail than anyone else. So far, there have been letters from thirty-one different people while he's been here, and the names tell us it's from fourteen females and twelve males, with five who might be male or female, having androgynous names. Mail was held for the first ten days, and after that, he has yet to go a day without receiving at least three letters, and not a week goes by when he doesn't receive a care package.

"Hey," I say as Caleb starts to leave, and he turns and looks at me. "More fanmail? How did a quiet wuss like you get so many girls sending him letters, anyway?"

"By not being an obnoxious brat," he retorts before leaving.

"He bites harder and harder every day," Owen chuckles, and I glare at him. "You know, if you try to talk to him without being a dick, you can actually get some answers. Jennifer, the one who sends him the care package every week? She's a woman who runs the foster home he came from. Caleb commented that he thinks she and Colonel Reynolds both have a crush on the other. The other mail all comes from the other kids at his home or some of his classmates from school who heard he was joining the GSDF. They're all wondering how training is going and wishing him well."

"That's a surprise," I say.

"I saw one of his letters," Owen tells me. "And I that some of them are actually giving stuff to Jennifer for the care packages, on top of the ones who just send them on their own."

"What did it say?" I ask.

"Ask him," Owen gestures at the door. "I hadn't meant to see the letter and swore to him I wouldn't tell anyone what it said. It wasn't anything inappropriate, Caleb just wants his privacy respected."

"I can't find his letters," I tell Owen. "It's annoying. I can't figure out what he does with them, no matter how hard I look. I can find the rest of his squad's letters, but not his."

"He's probably using magic to hide them," Owen points out. "Magic is how we explain a lot of the unusual things about Caleb."

"One of your mail got stuck with mine," Caleb returns, handing Owen a letter, then he looks at me. "I'm not a sentimental person."

He turns and leaves, and I look at Owen, who laughs.

"I think he just said he gets rid of them," Owen shakes his head, his face lighting up when he opens the letter. "Oh, cool – Tanya send me a pic. Look! She got a new teddy bear!"

Tanya is this girl Owen has a huge crush on, and he didn't ask her out because he's only thirteen and was a bit shy about it. The fact that he was getting ready to leave for two years probably didn't help.

"Want to see?" He holds up the picture, and the teddy bear looks almost as big as Tanya is.

"Cool," I pack my stuff back into my box, then make my way up to our room and sit down on my bed.

Taylor sent me the ingredients for s'mores, in addition to the other snacks in the box, and I share them with my squad when they come to turn in for the night. Owen creates the heat to roast the marshmallows and we chat for a little while about what we got today, though I don't say much.

Taylor wasn't kidding when he said it'll be bad if Mom and Dad find out he sent me stuff. He risked a lot to track me down and send me the care package.

They've probably already cut me off from our accounts, but I don't care about that. I'll be working either for the GSDF or as a merc once this ends, so I'll have my own source of income. I know how to invest, having grown up with them, so I can make my money grow.

Taylor, on the other hand, doesn't have much going for him. He's wheelchair-bound, he's fragile, and he keeps his Ability a secret for fear of being exploited.

My little brother is a Territory, D-Rank. He can create a territory around him that he can see, hear, smell, whatever anything within, and which he can even manipulate things within, to a degree. Territories are rare enough, and those who can't defend themselves can easily be exploited.

If Mom and Dad knew about his Ability, they'd probably use him to gain an advantage in meetings and stuff. If he were kidnapped, he could be forced to use his Ability for crime.

A realization hits me as I think about my brother's Ability.

I don't know why I didn't see that Caleb had Territory or some variation of it before now. Everything make sense now that I do – how he seemingly reads thoughts, notices things before they happen, sees right through Kieran's perception filter as if it doesn't exist, and so much more.

Caleb and Taylor are pretty similar in a lot of ways, now that I think about it. They both don't use their Abilities out of fear, they're both bound by something that keeps them from living without fear, and they're both powerful.

That is, however, where the similarities stop. Taylor is bright and cheerful, always willing to play a game or tell a joke, whereas Caleb tends to be silent and without humor. At least, not any form of humor we can agree on – I think he finds things funny that are just annoying.

"Damn, dude!" David claps Owen on the back. "That bear is awesome! That thing looks super, super snuggly! I bet it'd be awesome to sleep with! Do you think it'd feel like a cloud?"

"Yeah," Owen nod. "Tanya's letter said she got it from her aunt after her aunt found out she'd spent the weekend helping kids in a hospital. She's one of the nicest girls I knew. Not a kinder soul in the world."

Owen is definitely in love with her.

"You know," David says. "I find it funny that the strongest and weakest cadets are all boys, while the girls are in the six squads between, mixed in with the other boys. Speaking of the girls here – which girls do you think could kick your ass in a fight and why?"

While they discuss the girls that could kick David's ass and not Owen's, I look at the things that Taylor placed in the bottom of the box. He'd be in far worse trouble if Mom and Dad found out he sent them to me. He took a huge risk just sending me the package – sending me these things?

That's almost like asking for our parents to treat him like he's dead. They'd never acknowledge his existence again. Ever.

The sign of someone who truly loves you.

Get out of my head, Caleb.

Your emotions are overpowering everyone else's thoughts. You truly care for your brother. Meet me at the pond at one.

He doesn't respond to my attempts to talk with him after that, so I debate whether or not I'm going to listen to him. We could get into so much trouble if we're caught snooping around the property at night.

Lights-out happens at the same time as always and I find it a struggle to keep myself from falling asleep. When the time comes, I barely manage to drag myself out of bed and make my way to the pond, arriving a couple of minutes before one. It's an hour-long hike to the pond without the packs on, and Caleb's already here and looking wide-awake.

Just what the hell is he doing with his magic that allows him to look so awake when everyone else is exhausted?

"If you're worried about being caught," Caleb says. "Only Kieran, you, and I are awake right now, and Kieran knows I'm out at night pretty often."

"You sneak out all the time?"

"It's not sneaking when I don't try to hide it," Caleb turns his gaze to the pond, looking up at the moon. "You're lucky it's the full moon tonight. That's when this particular magic works best."

"What magic?" I ask as he turns his gaze back to the pond.

Thinking he didn't catch me asking, I start to ask him again, but stop as the air around us shifts, charging with energy. The pond begins to glow with a silvery light, the colors of the woods around us growing clearer and more vibrant. Caleb's eyes turn violet in color, and sparks lavender energy dance around his body.

They say that in the old times, powerful magicians would radiate magic in the form of small sparks when they cast powerful spells. Caleb's not creating small sparks – he's creating a small lightning storm around himself.

He's far more powerful than he's revealed himself to be when it comes to magic, and this spell is definitely a magic even the magicians of old likely couldn't perform.

The surface of the pond turns smooth and glassy, the reflection of the moon expanding until it covers the full pond, turning the surface of the water pure white. A few moments later, a bedroom forms in our view.

The room itself is neatly organized, not a single item out of place. A wheelchair sits by the bed, and a familiar face sleeps peacefully in the bed, his brown hair wild and untamed. He needs a haircut.

"This your brother?" Caleb asks.

"Huh?" I look at him. "Yeah, it is. Didn't you know that?"

"The energy from the spell is messing with my passive territory," Caleb states. "I can't hear your thoughts right now even though you're right next to me. It's been a long time since I cast a spell of this caliber, and the last time I did this particular spell, I did it on a much, much weaker scale. I wasn't sure if I hit the right spot or not."

"Why are you showing me him?" I ask.

"I'm not," Caleb picks up a rock, holding it over the pond. "Everything is to scale."

He drops the rock before I can ask what he means and it drops down into the pond, passing through and landing on the floor of Taylor's room with a small thunk! The sound was clear and sharp, as if I were just feet away from where it landed.

This isn't a viewing spell – it's a spatial spell. He's created a link between the two locations. Not even the most powerful of spatial magicians could do anything like this – they can mostly just bend the space for a few feet around them.

"I can sustain it for maybe an hour," Caleb informs me. "If you wish to visit him."

I nod, and he gestures for me to step through. I do, landing as softly as possible on the flooring. Taylor stirs, but doesn't wake. Looking up, I can't see the passage, but can sense the connection there. Caleb's keeping it open.

Walking over to the bed, I sit on the edge and gently shake my little brother awake. He mumbles something as his eyes flutter open, and it takes him a moment to focus on me.

"Jared!" He exclaims, then covers his mouth.

I help him sit up, then wrap my arms around him.

"I missed you," he says before breaking down into tears.

I rub gently his back until he calms down.

"How did you get here?" Taylor sniffles, leaning back and looking at me.

"One of the others at the facility is a powerful magician," I tell him. "His power is beyond belief, and he's able to do stuff no magician has been able to do since the Calamity."

"Lost magics?"

"Yeah," I nod. "He can do lost magics. And the kicker? He's learning his magics from a being even more powerful than him, a being it seems like he practically reveres."

"You sound in awe of him," Taylor says.

"He's the most powerful being at the facility," I admit. "Caleb's unbelievable… when he actually uses his stuff. Most of the time, he's too scared to do use it. He created some sort of portal that brought me here, and I can sense it open."

"I can't sense anything," Taylor concentrates really hard, then shakes his head. "Nothing."

"I probably can because I went through it," I ruffle his hair. "I got your package today."

"Finally," he grins at me. "I sent it, like, two weeks ago, but I had to be really careful so Mother and Father didn't catch me. I'm glad you finally received it."

He wraps his arms around me, and too late, I sense them.

The door flies open, and Taylor and I split apart as Father barges into the room with two security officers. None of them have metal on them – they probably knew I was here. Then again, they stopped wearing metal on them when I was little, back when I couldn't resist pulling a prank on them at every opportunity.

Looking at it that way, there was probably a reason they never did start up again.

"Jared!" Father screams. "Arrest him!"

I jump off the bed and summon Taylor's letter opener, launching it into the guards as they begin to move. I'm faster now, due to my training. My father screams at me, telling me he will kill me, then he looks up at the ceiling, his gaze traveling down to the ground, then rising back up.

"I believe it's time we go, now," Caleb states, and I turn to my left find him standing beside me.

He places a hand on my shoulder, and immediately, I'm drunk on the magical energy he's emitting as he keeps the barrier open. My father's even paused in fear, due to the storm of lightning that deals no damage to me as it rages around my fellow cadet.

"Magician," Father whispers in fear.

It's not as if he's scared of magicians, seeing as he has several in his employ, but he's facing a magician radiating an immense amount of power – power Father knows he can't fight.

He then reaches out a hand, and I realize that he noticed the rock the Caleb dropped through. Father can manipulate stones – he's a stone Elemental, and children who are Superhumans often have an Ability of the same Type as their parent of the same sex and the same Class as other siblings with that Type.

Taylor's rare, with his Territory Ability despite me having metal and Father having stone, both Elementals. A deviation like that doesn't happen often.

"I don't think so," Caleb sweeps his left hand out and the stone ripples, changing form as I sense my own Ability's link to it vanish.

The stone grows, five protrusions forming as it increases in size, becoming a figure roughly humanoid in shape, complete with arms, legs, and head. It even has hands and feet.

Golems can still be taken over by an Elemental affiliated with stone – they're not living. Not unless…

"Ensure the safety and well-being of Taylor Fuller," Caleb commands.

"Yes, Master," the golem's voice is deep and rumbly.

It sounds like it came out of a stone mouth, which I guess makes sense.

"Tch."

I look at Caleb as Father attempts to manipulate the golem.

"I can never get the voices to sound human," he complains, then looks at Father. "It's a true golem, you idiot – your Ability doesn't allow you to manipulate the living."

"That's impossible," Father gasps.

"Screw off," Caleb says, then we rise up into the ceiling, passing through it and the pond, hovering above it for a few seconds before moving to the grass, which we promptly collapse onto.

The lightning storm around Caleb fades, as does his effect on the pond and the surrounding area. I crawl over to him to check his status, and find him completely unconscious. He's passed out and won't wake no matter how much I nudge him or splash water onto his face.

Picking him up, I carry him back to the facility, hoping we don't get caught as I bring him up to his room. His clothes are likely stained from the grass and dirt, and that would be suspicious if someone saw that after he woke up.

Back to what I was thinking, I decide to quickly change Caleb into a different set of shorts and tee. As I get ready to do that, I notice that his clothes and sneakers are completely clean. Looking at my own outfit, I see that they're in that state as well and stare at him in shock. He prepared a spell for our clothes before he passed out, to avoid problems.

Carefully, I tuck him in and return to my room to turn in for the night for good this time.

My thoughts turn to my family as I try to fall asleep.

If Caleb made a true golem, then my parents will have a hard time doing anything to Taylor. True golems are sentient and quite alive. They need no rest or food, allowing them to last as long as the magic in them remains. Knowing Caleb, that golem is probably constructed with the ability to defend itself and my brother. He gave it a specific order before leaving, which means he knows what will happen to Taylor.

My brother was found with me in his room, the two of us hugging. My parents won't forgive him. Caleb's doing what he can to protect my brother.

He's a coward, but he's powerful and considerate. In some ways, that makes him a weakling, but he acted to protect someone he doesn't know just because I care about them. Just because it's the one person I care about.

The rest of his team can burn. Caleb's alright in my books.