<(Caleb)>
The instructors woke us around five in the morning and I felt nearly refreshed, but not fully. My spell worked, granting Jared and I enough energy by the time they woke everyone so that we would wake as well with just the right amount of energy to prevent any suspicions of us doing something we weren't supposed to.
After waking us, the instructors ran us through a series of physically grueling obstacles, then allowed us eat cold cereal and a banana with a glass of orange juice to wash it down with. Just as we're finishing up, Fowl, who watched us eat from the door as always, suddenly transforms into a wolf and charges into the hall in the lobby, the other instructors flooding inside the dining room, then the hall to the lobby.
Moments later, a black barrier forms at the entrance to the lobby, blocking off the hall.
Kieran woke up for this, which means it's gotta be good. I tune into the lobby, grateful for my increasing control over my passive territory now that I no longer fight against it.
All of the instructors move into a formation around a quintet of soldiers who got aggressive with Irina after she refused them access into here. The soldiers aim guns at the Colonels.
Against ordinary Superhumans, those weapons would be quite fatal. Unfortunately for the soldiers, the Colonels are anything but ordinary. Only S-Ranks can become GSDF Colonels.
"Why have you disrupted our training?" Fowl growls, still in wolf form.
"We are here to deliver an arrest warrant on one Jared Fuller," the soldier in charge states, not lowering his gun a millimeter. If anything, he pulls the trigger to the hair. "As we have informed your secretary. Release him. We are authorized to use any force necessary to apprehend him. This order comes from the Council of Dreams."
"Jared," I speak up, and he looks over at me. "What connection do your parents have to the Council of Dreams?"
"My father's on it," Jared answers. "Why?"
"Ah," I say. "That explains the soldiers demanding your arrest in the lobby."
"What?" He's as surprised as I am. "That fast?"
"I'm going to project what's going on over the War Board."
The War Board covers one entire wall in here, and it ranks all of us based on various attributes. I rank first on everything, including combat. The scene occurring in the other room appears over that, letting the rest of the cadets see what's going on. And hear, too, when I remember to add that on.
"I don't care," Fowl repeats himself. "This is a secure training facility. Unless you give me reasonable cause, I will not hand over a cadet. You will leave this premises at once."
"You are allowed by the Council of Dreams," the lead soldier states. "You work under their authority. If we deliver a warrant, you oblige."
"Have you ever," Fowl growls. "Faced off against ten S-Ranked Superhumans before? Your petty guns won't affect us. If you even try to take Jared by force, you'll come face-to-face with a Superhuman that has four letters to his Rank. That's if you make it past the S-A Superhuman concealing himself somewhere in this room. That sense of unease you have? That fear you're trying to push down? The rumors of our night guard lighten what he did, makes him seem smaller and weaker than he truly is.
"So you are going to tell me," Fowl growls. "Exactly why you are here. Exactly what the charges are. Or you will lose your lives."
"Jared Fuller," the soldier says. "As well as his accomplice, are under arrest for the murder of two guards of Thomas Fuller, a member of the Council of Dreams, at one-thirteen this morning at the Fuller Mansion."
"That's an ocean away," Fowl sounds stunned, and the cadets giggle, their thoughts revealing they think the soldiers are total idiots. "Do you really believe that they managed to cross thousands of miles, killed two people, then crossed that same distance to return here in the six hours they were out of our sight? Let's ignore the fact that traveling that distance in that time is impossible, and was for magicians even before the Calamity."
"Wait," Irina looks at Fowl. "That boy defies logic, you know."
"He knows magics from before the Calamity," Fowl looks at her. "He hasn't shown any magics that I haven't heard of in my studies. Even the most powerful of spatial magicians back then were very limited in traveling magics.
"Kieran," Fowl looks around the room. "Did Fuller and Rivers leave the property last night?"
"They jumped into the pond," Kieran says, and the soldier jumps. "After that happened, I lost touch with them. By the time I made it there to personally investigate, they were on the ground beside it, passed out. Neither were wet. I found it odd. It's Caleb, so I didn't question it. He probably was showing off his Gift for Jared and I no doubt misread what happened."
Oh, right. I could see Kieran. The soldiers look stunned by his appearance, though I know that the effect of his aura remains in effect. The other cadets could see Kieran the entire time because I was projecting what I could see and hear.
"They… what?" Fowl looks confused.
"Caleb stays up most nights to fight his golems," Kieran states. "He draws energy from the forest to keep himself from falling asleep, then to restore his energy. He keeps himself as exhausted as you guys do, to keep the effect of the training. It's how he's getting over his fear of combat. He complains to himself a lot about the fact that he can't get the voices to sound human."
"He makes golems that speak?" The soldiers now look completely confused.
"Why does he use golems?" Fowl asks.
"He makes true golems," Kieran shrugs. "Probably because he can shape them to whatever humanoid level he desires. Any age or sex, any level of combat skill, up to his own. He usually gives them his own level of combat ability because it's the only way he can fight them fairly. They don't have his reservations, so they actually use his full skill while he won't. It's actually effective and is why he keeps popping up bruises in weird places and shapes."
"That big gash he had on his side?" Fowl asks him.
"Not from that," Kieran says. "He tripped."
"He got that from tripping?"
"He fell on his knife."
"Do I want to know what happened then?" Fowl asks.
"He just rubbed his hand over it and went to bed," Kieran shrugs. "He was exhausted enough that he forgot to heal it fully. Did that the next night, which is why it vanished without a trace."
"So he just jumped into the pond with Jared last night, then you found them lying beside it?"
"No," Kieran says. "Jared went into the pond, and Caleb watched it. A few minutes passed, Caleb jumped in. A few moments later, they floated out. I found them collapsed by the side of it. Jared came to first."
"Do you think there's something more to what happened than what he said?" Sparks asks.
"Kieran sees what we do not," Fowl reminds her. "After all, Perception is one of his Abilities."
"One of?" The soldier in charge asks, clearly irritated at being ignored as if he's insignificant.
"This is a discussion between staff," Fowl turns his gaze back to the soldier. "Stay out of it."
"We're here to arrest Jared Fuller and his accomplice," the soldier reminds him. "If his accomplice is here, then he is under arrest as well."
"I'm so tempted to interfere," Jared says. "But I think Kieran's wall will prevent that."
"I can teleport you in there," I tell him. "It won't even be a fraction of the power I used last night. That, and I can power through Kieran's Ability or disconnect him from it, just like I did with you. I could get you in there in one hundred, eighteen different methods. That come to mind right now."
"You know the exact number?" Jared asks.
"The number that comes to mind, yes."
"You will hand them over now!" The soldier demands.
"I so wanna rip them to shreds right now," Kieran sighs, only us hearing him speak.
He pauses before frowning and looking at the wall leading to the cafeteria.
"Caleb! Stop that!"
Everyone starts laughing, and I snort.
"Fowl!" Kieran makes himself visible. "Caleb's using his magic or his Gift or something to project this entire scene into the cafeteria! And he just enabled one-way passage through my barrier!"
"I told you," Irina looks at Fowl. "This is going to be an interesting batch."
"I've already planned out the punishment for the events," Fowl tells her. "I'm sure even Rivers will find it difficult to stay strong mentally through it."
"Hand them over now!" The lead soldier orders, and Fowl looks back to him as more soldiers flood into the room, more powerful weapons aimed at them.
Those guns can actually hurt the soldiers.
"Do you want to?" Jared asks me.
"Up to you," I tell him.
"Can I participate?" Owen asks.
"I want to have some fun, too," David comments.
"I don't know about you guys," Kieran says. "But I plan on surviving. I'm not a big fan of turar guns."
Kieran vanishes from their perception, then phases through a wall. Turar guns are a sure-fire way to kill Superhumans. They can rip through Abilities just as well as they can magic. Auras are vulnerable as well.
Not that they can't be completely stopped. Teacher taught me how to counter them with my magic.
"If you can't win, flee," Fowl mutters, glancing at the barrier Kieran erected before looking back at the soldiers. "We will defend the cadets to the end. That is a vow we made. If you wish to arrest and kill Jared Fuller, you will be forced to kill several Colonels of the GSDF. Do not believe it will react gently toward the Council of Dreams for this. There will be consequences."
"Jared Fuller is under arrest under a death warrant," the soldier states. "He-"
"Is here," Jared says as he passes through the barrier, metal flying through the air, every piece of it in the lobby forming armor on his body. "Will you fight me?"
They turn their guns to him as Sparks creates an electric field. The soldiers fire their guns, which pass through the electricity as if it weren't there, but they never touch Jared's armor.
Everyone looks confused – Jared, the cadets who flooded into the lobby to defend themselves, Kieran (at the fact that the cadets are running through the barrier), the Colonels, the soldiers here to arrest them.
Everyone but me.
"I am Auriauror," I say, knowing my voice is projected into the other room, altered to become deeper, older, wiser, imbued with raw magic that shakes the very fabric of existence itself. "Dragon of Creation. I demand to know why you have trespassed onto territory I created many centuries ago for the training of youth, and why you have endangered their lives."
"If you weren't standing right next to me," Jared looks at the avatar I created and sent with them while cloaking myself. "I'd think this was you doing it."
"I can give you a breakdown of how a powerful enough magician could manage it," my avatar tells him.
"You really do create golems," Owen looks at the duo standing to either side of my avatar.
"Oh, my goodness," Jared looks at Owen. "We're doing the same thing the instructors did. We're completely ignoring the threat-"
"And the all-powerful voice," Owen interjects.
"While a serious threat stands before us," Jared finishes.
"ANSWER ME!" I roar, the room shaking, ever person in there feeling my voice rattle their very existences. "WHY HAVE YOU CHOSEN TO TRESPASS AND VIOLATE THE SACRED LAWS AND LAND I SET?"
"Who are you?" The soldier in charge looks around, aiming his gun everywhere. "Reveal yourself!"
"I am Auriauror!" I state. "I am not a being whose presence you can handle! You will leave this facility at once, or I will erase your existences entirely!"
"This boy-" the soldier begins, gesturing at Jared.
"I DO NOT CARE!" I roar. "Tell Thomas Fuller that Jared will not be executed for defending himself! He is under my protection and I will not tolerate this heresy! Leave!"
"How do I know you are who you claim you are?" The lead soldier asks.
"Do you know of any being who can stop turar bullets with a thought?" I ask, turning them around to face the soldiers. "Or who can manipulate them at will? This is a mere afterthought. I will alter your reality itself, if you wish to test my limits. The Council of Dreams swore a vow to fight the war against monsters. They exist to represent the hope of all of mankind. If word gets out that the Council of Dreams slaughtered Colonels and cadets simply because one of them killed two of their guards in self-defense, then they will lose all power they hold and no one will trust them again."
The soldiers think about this for several long moments, then the lead soldier pulls out a phone and makes a phone call. After explaining the situation, everyone leaves.
"Well," I say in my normal voice, my avatar and golems vanishing. "They really are idiots. Auriauror was the Dragon of Creation who created lineages and heritage. He can't manipulate reality, as far as I know. That would be Naubara, one of his older brothers. Theoretically, he could alter reality, but it's mostly to just set things into heritages, into lineages. Also – Teacher taught me how to stop turar with magic. It's actually really simple. He's been considering 'leaking' the knowledge of it for awhile, but hasn't only because of criminals. If they found out how to block it using magic, it'd pose a problem.
"And anyway," I continue. "Terian was the one who created the barrier around this facility, with the aid of Teacher. I'm not sure why Teacher helped him, Terian is more than capable of creating such a barrier himself. He's the Dragon of Creation of Advancement. Usually seen as technological or magical or scientific, it also refers to training and education. Personally, my favorite is Kalmira, who created-"
"What the hell are the Dragons of Creation?" Jared interrupts me.
"Huh?" I ask. "Oh, right. The Dragons of Creation are the beings who created existence itself. There are many dragons, but only a few Dragons of Creation. They can't be born, they simply exist. Teacher never told me how they came to be or where they came from, but they supposedly created the universe itself. Anyway, my personal favorite is Kalmira, who created nature. He, just like Auriauror, are considered the fathers of life, but it was really Gelvier who created life and later, death."
This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
"Who created time?" Jared asks.
"Baelsoar," I answer. "Without time, nothing progressed, so Baelsoar created a way for things to progress, to continue to evolve and pass and exist, which is what allowed life and death to truly occur. That, in turn, evolved into time itself. The only other Dragon of Creation I know of is Jasier, who created love, romance, lust, envy, sex – emotion and desire itself."
"The disembodied voice is starting to creep me out," Jared says. "Can you please stop that?"
"Okay, cadets!" Fowl reverts to his human form. "Out back, now! Line up, and get ready for a tough day! Thank Fuller and Rivers for it!"
"You're welcome!"
I take off into the training yard, stopping all of my spells and giggling to myself as they chase after me. Everyone glares at me as we line up. Fowl summons Jared and I to the front.
"How in the hell did you two travel across the ocean and back in the six hours we weren't observing you?"
"Magic," I answer.
"No known magic can do that!"
"It's a spell of my own creation, sir!"
"What is with your cheerful, uncaring mood?" Fowl asks. "This is not like you, Rivers."
"I'm drunk, sir!"
"Drunk?" He looks confused. "There's no alcohol on the premises and you seemed fine at breakfast."
"It happens to any magician who uses too much power in a short span of time, sir!" I explain. "We get drunk on our own power! My body isn't used to exerting this much power in this small of a timeframe, so it's making me a type of magical drunk!"
----------------------------------------
<(Jared)>
I do not want to know what a magical hangover is like. Caleb went back to his silent, thoughtful self after he recovered from the magical drunkenness. It took him six days. Kieran apparently knew it would happen and even admitted to Fowl at one point that he had been surprised that Caleb hadn't gotten drunk from the spatial spell he performed.
According to Kieran, magically drunk Caleb at five was quite the riot as well as quite the annoyance. I'm not sure the adults around them agreed with that viewpoint. I mean… Caleb was quite weird until he recovered, and he only has vague memories of what happened.
At last, we no longer have to suffer through Caleb's talkative, uncaring mood that let him say and do whatever came to mind. Right now, he's busy working on laundry after a long, hard day, and I'm sitting in the lounge when Owen arrives with mail.
"You've got one," he tosses me a letter. "No return address."
"Thanks," I catch it, examining the envelope.
Plain and white, the information on it a printed label, a single stamp placed on it, one for long-distance mailing. It came from across the ocean, which I doubt anyone around here would know. Express letter, very expensive. The stamp tells me it was mailed off yesterday morning. That kind of speed is ridiculous.
Already knowing who sent it, I'm about to throw it away when I feel a small shiver down my spine. I pause, wondering what that is, then once more attempt to throw the letter away. The moment I do, the shiver runs down my spine again. Every time I think about throwing it away, a shiver runs down my spine.
"Stop that!" I realize it's Caleb, and Owen glances at me with a raised eyebrow.
I'd do anything to receive a letter from my parents.
"Yeah, well, mine tried to kill me!" I snap.
Yeah, well, mine are dead.
I let out a small scream in frustration, then throw myself into a chair and open the envelope, pulling out the several sheets of printed message one of my parents sent me.
"Have you already read this?" I ask.
I'm getting better at ignoring things in my Territory now that I'm not fighting it. I only knew it was from your parents from your thoughts. Would you like me to?
"Screw off."
He doesn't respond to that, and I turn my gaze to the letter.
Child,
We are not pleased by your actions. First, you run away, then you intrude into our home, then you kill our guards. I do not know what being it truly was who protected you, but Auriauror it was not. Your actions are not acceptable and you must suffer the consequences for performing them.
As soon as your basic training is over, we ask that you come peacefully and turn yourself in. If you do not, then we will come to collect you when you arrive at the training facility to start your rest period. We will leverage all the power we hold to arrest you for your actions and nothing will stop us. The Global Superhuman Defense Federation works under the Council of Dreams, not independent of it. If you resist, they will assist us. We have already spoken to them there.
To ensure your arrest, we will be using artifacts from the old days, including weapons designed specifically for working against magicians. There are ways to affect turar with magic. These weapons have no known method of combating. We will come with five hundred soldiers, magicians, and Superhumans for your arrest.
The letter goes on to detail exactly what I did wrong, exactly what they will bring with them when they come for my arrest, and blah-blah-blah. Caleb's in my head the entire time, telling me whether or not something will work. Apparently, he can combat the weapons Dad's referring to.
I'm about to put the letters through the shredder when I notice the backs of each sheet have writing on it. Not type – writing. Someone hand-wrote something on the backs of each sheet. It takes me a moment to realize it's my father's handwriting, it's been so long since I last saw it.
I turn the sheets over and begin to read.
Jared,
Taylor got away safely. Whatever magic your friend used in that golem, it was powerful enough to get your brother out of the house safely. We lost track of them shortly after that, the golem carrying him away quickly, far more quickly than any ordinary human could.
A true golem! To imagine that there's a magician alive that could create them! It's been my life's dream to encounter one, and to think I'd actually do that – it's just astonishing!
I hope you're well, and I do apologize for the inconvenience. I had a feeling that the soldiers wouldn't be able to capture you, what with a magician capable of affecting space on that level and creating a true golem protecting you, but I had to do it.
This is the first time I've been able to break free of her grip. As you know, I'm an Elemental. Your mother is a Manipulator, and what she can manipulate are minds. That kind of power corrupts people rather easily, and nearly all mind-based Manipulators are evil. She selected me as her mate because of my own strength of power. She wanted a strong, powerful heir to continue her line. That's part of why she disliked you and Taylor your whole lives, even if you thought it as just her acting for the good of you two.
She wants a female heir, a child to carry on her family's legacy. They're a group of dangerous mind Manipulators and they need to be stopped. Your mother uses me to her own gains, being the first of her line to gain control over a member of the Council of Dreams.
She's using what you did as a way of trying to end you. As you attacked two of my guards, it's considered an attack on me and thus, the Council of Dreams. I'm not sure what I can do to break free of her grip. She's S-Rank and her power is far too strong.
As stated, this is the first time I've been able to break free, and all I can do is write this letter to you on the back of the official mail she approved. I had to go to great lengths to get the pen I used to write it. Only those of my blood can see it, and it lasts for only two days before it fades away. It was quite expensive. I obtained it years ago, in case I ever needed it. Never thought I actually would.
Jared – I have no clue the level of power of the magician you've befriended, or how you even found a magician that can use magics on that level, but I wish you luck in your journeys. If he's there as a cadet, as they stated, then he's a Superhuman as well, right?
Is he your rival? I know you wished to find someone you could rival, someone to challenge yourself against, to grow stronger while trying to best. If he is that rival, then I wish the two of you luck and hope that you can be friends at the same time you're rivals.
If you find Taylor, please, tell him the truth. I have a variety of safe houses constructed. Should the two of you ever need a place to stay, use them. I'm including a list of their locations as well as how to obtain access to their keys or what their codes are. I'm excluding all of the ones your mother knows of, even if I only suspect she's aware of it.
Good luck on your journeys, son, and know that, despite how I act – my true feelings toward you and your brother are love and nothing more.
Dad
Father then lists a dozen locations. I'm not sure what to make of the letter. Is he lying and the safe houses a trap, an attempt to gain my trust to lower my defenses? That would be the obvious choice. I find it hard to believe that Father is actually under Mother's control. I mean, he called me by name at the beginning of the letter – he never calls me by name. Then he used 'dad' at the end of it, not his name, like he usually finishes letters with. And he doesn't hand-write letters, either.
I smell something fishy.
"What are you thinking?" Caleb sits down across from me.
"I don't know whether or not," I tell him. "This letter is real."
"May I?" He asks, and I hand papers to him.
"You two sure are chummy the last few days," David approaches us. "Mind telling me what's up with that."
"It's-"
I erased their memories, Caleb interrupts me. Only the two of us and Kieran know what happened. I've affected their memories about me being magically drunk as well.
"Caleb," I look back at David. "Is not an ordinary magician. He's powerful beyond belief. His Ability is powerful beyond belief as well, from what little I know of it. He's far beyond the level of any being here. He deserves respect."
Plus, he did something no one else could. Two things, actually. The first was that he drove me to becoming A-Rank without letting me on to the fact that he was helping me until I reached that point, and the second was the spell he cast to allow me a chance to see my brother.
It's only now that I realize that Caleb's examining the papers. He's not even paying attention to us, and he sent me those thoughts.
I'm about to ask him what he thinks when I realize his irises have turned completely violet, just like when he cast that spell over the pond. He mouths something, but I can't read lips. He's probably just talking to himself.
The action itself is pretty cute, and as soon as I think that, I shake that thought from my head. As much as he randomly stares at people, it seems like he's not actually looking at them when he does that.
"Caleb," I say as a realization hits me. "What do you like most about Erica?"
"The way her magic forms swirls around her," he looks at me. "It creates these fluid patterns that remind me of watching a stream run over rocks, but in slow-motion."
"Kayla?"
"Her magic is weird," he answers. "It's all rough and spiky, flaring up whenever anyone comes near her. It's not like it actually does anything, it just flares up, as if to protect her. I can't figure out that purpose is, though. I mean, it makes no sense – why would her magic just flare up to protect her but not actually do anything to do so?"
He's studying the magics in them. That's what he's doing when he's absentmindedly staring at people. Now that I'm thinking about it, his gaze rests in different positions depending on what he's thinking about.
I'm such a freaking idiot. I can't believe I never realized that before.
"Nadia's magic," Caleb adds in thoughtfully. "Is the prettiest, though. It sparkles like the reflection of the moon on the ocean. But that's for the girls, since you're asking about them and not the guys."
"Who has the prettiest," I can't believe I used that word. "Magic for the guys?"
That question is only natural considering he specified it was out of the girls. The implication with that is one of us guys has the most beautiful magic to him.
"You do," he answers without hesitation. "Yours is the prettiest out of everyone's here. It shines like the moon, cool and calming, yet at the same time, rages like a fiery inferno."
He starts mumbling to himself, losing himself in thought as he stares at me, moving his hands as if shaping something.
The next thing I know, my entire body feels like it's being reshaped, yet at the same time, it's completely unaffected.
"Caleb!" I snap, and he jumps, looking at me in surprise. "What the hell did you just do to me?"
"I was doing something?" He frowns, thinking, then shrugs. "Dunno. What did I do?"
"You were talking about my magic," I say. "Then started mumbling and moving your hands, and then it felt like I was being reshaped."
"Oh," Caleb frowns. "I was playing with your magic. It doesn't actually do anything to you. Teacher can probably make it affect you, but I can only reshape how it looks."
He then stares at me, lifting a finger in the air, pointing it at me, and beginning to draw. I can't figure out what he's drawing, but when he finishes, he giggles, then leaves. I stare at his retreating form in shock at the fact that he'd do something like that, then gather up the letters and track him down.
He's passed out on his bed, changed into his night outfit and fast asleep. It's not worth the effort to try and wake him to ask him about what he was doing with the letters or my magic.
Making my way to my room, I throw out the letter from Father, then change and climb into my bed. Moments later, I'm out.
The instructors wake everyone with icy water. It's still dark out and they order us to get dressed. Scrambling, we all dress and meet them outside, where they promptly order us to begin pushups. We do that, then situps, then more pushups, then other exhausting physical exercises before pulling on weighted packs and beginning a run.
Every twenty minutes, they stop us for more pushups, situps, and other exercises. The sun has begun to rise by the time they stop us and we're all exhausted. Judging by the moon's position when we started, they only gave us two hours of sleep, if even that.
They send us to breakfast instead of allowing us a chance for more sleep, then straight into more training. Even Caleb and I are losing our focus by the time the day ends, and everyone returns to bed, hoping we're not given another rude wake-up call, but knowing we won't sleep until the sun rises.
The days tick down toward the end of the training and I receive no further news from my parents. I'm still undecided about Father's letter, but Caleb assured me that it was legitimate and that he was being honest.
I can't press him for more, though. They're pushing us harder as time ticks down, and we suffer through less and less sleep each day, receiving just enough to get us through the training. No one quits, but I know many want to.
Everyone wants to beat Caleb. Everyone knows it's impossible, but everyone wants to take down his place as first in every area. According to the instructors, that's never happened before, someone standing in first in every area.
As the days pass, we grow more powerful in every aspect. The instructors do their best to flesh out the basis for our futures, for how our powers will function. Not so much to control them, but to make sure they have solid foundations as they grow more powerful even if our range of what we can do with them isn't improved.
That will happen naturally as we train more after basic ends, as they assess us as warriors and see what types of jobs we'll be best for and what types of abilities are easiest for us to expand into. We'll focus on forms of Ability exercise that will help us shape new techniques with what we can already do.
There are no more attempts to claim my life, but I'm worried about what will happen during the rest period. If they bring in the full force they mentioned, I doubt even Caleb could stop them. He'd have to pull something truly astonishing out of his ass to do that, considering that the weapons they're referring to could kill the most powerful of magicians from back then in moments.
At long last, the day for the mock battle with the other training grounds comes. It's tomorrow, and we were hoping for a day of rest before in order for us to be fully-prepared for it. Even that's not something we're allowed, apparently.
Dinner comes at last and we have more food than normal. It's only as we're eating that I begin to realize that they went light on us today. They're preparing for tomorrow while keeping our training schedule.
After dinner, the instructors tell us we have the rest of the day off. No one really knows what to make of it or what to do.
In the end, we do our usual routine, then make our way to our beds, passing out almost immediately.
For the first time in months, I wake up feeling fully refreshed. The sun's already out and some of the others continue to sleep. I dress in my training outfit and make my way downstairs, where Caleb is eating breakfast.
Sitting across from him is a guy around sixteen or seventeen that could be his brother. According to Caleb, he has no blood family, but I have to say that there's no way. They look way too similar. They have to be brothers.
Other than the two of them, the only people down here are the cooks watching from the kitchen. I go to the line to find pancakes, bacon, eggs, sausage, and biscuits and gravy, along with a variety of fruits and drinks. My stomach growls, telling me to get all of it, so I do. The staff don't comment on my bout of greed.
They're making sure we're prepared, giving us a full night's rest and a full breakfast. I'm not sure where the instructors even are right now.
"As quiet as always," the mysterious teen finally speaks as I sit down a couple of tables away from them. "Tell me what's on your mind, Caleb."
"Seconds."
"How's training going?" The teen asks. "I can see some physical changes. Your muscles have become more lean, but more defined as well."
"Well," Caleb answers. "They push us hard."
"You've used your Ability," the teen comments. "I didn't think that would ever happen with how much you resisted during your training with me."
Is this Caleb's mentor? He really does look like he'd be Caleb's brother, but Caleb claims his teacher's hundreds of years old.
"Unintentional," Caleb answers.
"What was that spell you cast a few weeks ago?" The teen asks. "I could sense it from the other side of the world. I've never seen anything like it before."
"Magical transportation," Caleb answers. "I invented the spell myself. I've never used it that far before, usually only a few hundred feet, and only to transport small items and never anything that's alive. Sometimes, I'll use it to affect what's around. That was taxing on me. Using magic the next day to interfere with an attempt on Jared's life by agents of the Council of Dreams put me into a state of magical drunkenness."
"Are you ready for the training competition?" The teen asks. "It'll be a situation where you'll be attacked by others."
"No," Caleb answers. "But I don't think I ever will be until I do it. During the competition battle, I will attempt to use my Ability."
"You'll… what?" The teen looks utterly confused, and it does not look like an expression he normally makes. "Caleb, do you really think you'll be able to use your Ability intentionally?"
"No," Caleb answers. "And if I cannot use my Ability during the simulation, then I will drop out of training altogether. If I cannot use my Ability then, when there's no real threat, then I will never be ready, I'm afraid. If I cannot use it in that sort of situation, then I'll never be able to use it. It will be a long time before I'm ready in that case."
"Caleb-"
"No," Caleb shakes his head. "I can't, Teacher. I made an oath to myself that this is what I'd do. I'm going to do my best to do it. Now go. Shoo. You're just an avatar, anyway. I don't want you lecturing me on how stupid it is, especially since you're not even on the same continent on me."
I have to take a few moments to process that. That's his Teacher – who happens to look like he could be Caleb's older brother – and he's actually just the avatar of Teacher, who is also on a completely different continent right now.
"Caleb-" Teacher begins.
"No!" Caleb insists, a slight whine in his voice. "I know what I'm doing, Teacher!"
"There's something you're not telling me," Teacher comments. "What's got you on edge, Cay?"
"Don't call me that!" Caleb snaps. "Only Kieran's allowed to call me that!"
"Kieran?" Teacher smiles, and Caleb's eyes widen as he realizes he let something slip.
Caleb doesn't slip up. He says exactly what he intends to say. Teacher must have a powerful effect on him for such an event to occur.
"So," Teacher says. "Someone else survived. Wasn't Kieran the one who could manipulate shadows and light? Is he a cadet here? I can't locate him."
"He's sleeping," Caleb looks down. "Unless you pressed, you wouldn't notice it's him. He's the one who has strong effect on perceptions."
"Didn't you say that was his brother?"
"It's a long story," Caleb says. "Now shoo. I wanna eat in peace."
Teacher's avatar chuckles, then vanishes. Caleb sighs, staring down at his food.
He's depressed. That's why he's so quiet when he's not in a weirdly good mood – he's depressed. I'm not sure what it is, but it probably has to do with what happened back then, and now from being separated from Teacher for so long. He developed a powerful bond with the mentor and basically imprinted on him, like a dog.
The moment I think that, I realize that Caleb's completely tuned everything out. There's no way he didn't hear that comment otherwise. He said he's getting better at it – but he can completely control what he perceives in his passive territory, he just doesn't know it yet. He's not able to turn it off, but he can at least tune things out now.
Owen makes it down here, and when he sees me watching Caleb, asking me what's going on when he sits down.
"Caleb," I answer. "I think he doesn't know how to make friends."