Chapter 30:

  A strategic loss, a decisive win, and now Eli was preparing for the final round of his duel with Kara. It was the bout that would decide weather or not he would be given freedom to act independently within the town when leaving the keep, or if he had lost that privilege for the next several years. He needed to win, and he needed to do it in a way that proved he was both competent and strong enough to hold his own against whatever potential threats he might encounter so close to home.

  When he looked to the side he could see his parents there. His father, silent and stoic, his mother sipping tea. Both of their gazes were intense. His display in the previous round had been far above and beyond any combat prowess he had shown before. His mother was nearly at the level of an archmage, and his father had more combat experience than most of the imperial army. It was never an option to hide his use of body enhancement magic. Eli just had to be careful not to reveal the true extent of his proficiency. While it would be easy to fool Calien and Kara, even his parent’s aides Simon and Layla were no strangers to battle magic, and its many nuances.

  As Nasir, the head trainer for House Rodrigo held prepared to signal the start of the fight, Eli mentally prepared himself for the performance he was about to give. If he wasn’t flawless, then while he might win the round, he would be forced to answer questions he wasn’t yet prepared for.

  This time as the boom and flash went off neither side hesitated.

  Kara dashed forward and Eli met her, adjusting his mana flow as he went. He was restricting himself to match her natural strength. He wanted to battle on an even level. Technique against technique.

  The opening exchanges were clean, fast, and clearly favouring Eli. Wood cracked, dust scattered and the opponents both paused to assess each other once more. Then they were back at it. Kara pressed forward, using her reach, staff sweeping in heavy arcs. Eli shifted his footing, redirecting each strike with minimal movement.

  Kara’s reach gave her momentary advantages, but Eli’s precision and control pressed her from the beginning. He didn’t overwhelm her like he had the first time. Instead, he was tactical, technical, and kind in his systematic dismantling. Every counter came faster than her reset. Every attempt to dodge, deflect, or redirect met his waiting staff.

  The fight lasted longer, but the balance was clear. This was no duel; this was a senior combatant giving pointers to an ally. Kara defended as Eli attacked, each time she erred Eli gave her a moment to correct, readjust, try again. Only a moment. It wasn’t enough.

  Eli’s experience and finesse forced her steadily toward defeat. A final sidestep gave him the angle he needed. He twisted his staff and struck out. His blow was swift, clean and would have been devastating had it landed. Instead, he pulled back at the last second, forcing his body to respond with precision as he came to a dead stop. All of him frozen mid motion except for his wrist. With the barest flick he tapped her temple causing her to freeze up in surprise and dread.

  A killing blow. She had been defeated.

  “Point, Eli,” Nasir called, the words squeezed through too tense vocal cords.

  Kara stepped back, lowered her weapon, and bowed. She was breathing hard, chest heaving, heartbeat thundering so fast it felt like it was vibrating inside her chest. Her eyes met Eli’s, and though there was pride and frustration in her gaze, the overwhelming emotions of respect and awe were plain to read.

  ~

  That had been thrilling. Eli wasn’t a big fan of combat in general, but he was forced to admit that it was an excellent way to force his mind into a state of complete concentration. He loved that feeling of oneness he got when his magic and mind were in complete alignment with his body. It was euphoric and made him lament that his current mana pool wasn’t large enough to accommodate a longer bout. Not if he wanted to do his studies with his mother and have enough left in reserve for evening enchanting and his nighttime excursions.

  Besides, his body was also fatigued. The duel had come at the end of his father’s already rigorous training. While his mother had healed his broken ribs, the process itself was physically taxing. Then there had been the second round, where he had clearly pushed past his physical limits, straining his body as his physique struggled to keep up with overwhelming enhancements. Just because he could move faster than he should be able to didn’t mean his body was fully capable of supporting the strain. Another reason to explore body-tempering he supposed. Then there was that final battle. Sure, he hadn’t pushed too far, but prolonged use of the technique had resulted in him requiring physical recovery.

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  The true cost of enhancement hit him full force as he released the mana, flooding his senses and limbs. He felt weak; blind, half-deaf, and nearly numb as he staggered a little on his way to put away the training staff. Clearly, he needed to train more, he thought, disgusted at his own display of weakness. Shoulders heavy, he straightened out, taking a moment to steady before reminding himself to smile.

  He knew it wasn’t the technique itself that had truly taxed him, it was holding the technique while masking his mana and engaging in combat that had pushed him more than he had anticipated. Inside, his mana was steady. He had masked its depth carefully using a few layered suppression techniques to keep both his actions and his true proficiency hidden from the gaze of the curious experts in the audience, while simultaneously revealing just enough to not seem completely suspicious.

  It was a three-pronged concealment plan. First, there was the passive deception using the technique that allowed him to obscure the true depth of his mana pool. It was a technique he had been using since his second week post-time-travel, when he realized that his rapid development would appear unprecedented, even for a prodigy. Then there was the active sensory deception that was used to make his channeling seem clumsier, and his mana pool and channels seem less developed than they were. He generally didn’t bother with this except for during his studies with his mother. Finally, there were the completely honest side effects of coordinating multiple techniques and complex deceptions while fighting and maintaining his battle senses.

  Fatigue. The final deception was wreathed in truth. Eli was genuinely exhausted. Physically and mentally spent. Just not for the reasons a normal boy his age and perceived aptitude would be. Him being genuinely exhausted – no need for faking or acting – absolutely sold the idea of brilliant-but-not-too-impossible genius better than even any magical concealment could.

  With his father’s enhanced physique, and his mother’s body enhancement magic rivaling his own (she was his teacher after all), then if they wanted to they could both literally see his skin pulse with the heartbeat in his neck, hear the whooshing of his blood through his veins, and feel the minute fluctuations of air as he heaved for breath. No elaborate deception needed, he simply was tired.

  It was for this reason that he did not refresh himself with a quick restorative burst of circulation before turning back to face his audience. Right now he was just a prodigy who was learning to use body enhancement magic, and his demeanor showed that.

  Both Gabriel and Sela remained seated as Eli made his ponderous way towards them. Cailean had done his best to hydrate and straighten out his charge, but there was only so much that could be done for the disheveled young lord as he greeted his parents. When he stopped, they stood.

  “I won,” Eli said. His voice was steady, and his expression solemn as he proclaimed his victory. His head was tilted back, both Sela and Gabriel seemed to tower over him as he faced them.

  “Indeed,” said Gabriel. The trio was quiet, and for a moment only the sounds of the yard being restored to order by Kara and Nasir and the three personal aides cleaning the resting area could be heard. Secrets and questions swirled unspoken like pipe-smoke.

  “Well, Little Star, you may move through town without a guard. You have certainly earned your roaming rights.”

  “What about your forgiveness?” Eli asked. His voice had come out much smaller than he’d intended. Perhaps he was more mentally fatigued than he’d initially assumed?

  “Eli,” his mother said. And that one word contained entire histories full of meaning.

  The boy walked forward and buried himself in his mother’s robes.

  “I am tired,” he said, voice muffled against his mother’s middle.

  “I can see that,” she said. A large hand landed on Eli’s head prompting him to look up. His father was doing the Gabriel Rodrigo version of a smile at him. It mostly consisted of an impassive expression, but with a distinct aura of paternal affection that Eli had long since learned to recognize. In that moment there was what felt like a tacit agreement to let the questions and suspicions dissipate and simply let the morning be what it was.

  “Do not worry,” Eli said, when he eventually pulled away. “I will still bring Kara with me when I am going on the morning run. Besides, I still must inform you if I plan to go to town. If Kara comes too, then it will be safer.” He shrugged. Eli truly had no intention of putting himself in danger. He just had a much more accurate gauge of what ‘danger’ truly meant for him.

  Gabriel gave a short nod. Sela’s eyes lingered on him, sharp as ever, but she said nothing.

  Outwardly, his pace was slow, as Eli left the yard. He walked with the forced calm of a child satisfied with victory. In that moment, both versions of himself were in alignment, just for a while he stopped supressing the childlike version of himself.

  He was exiting a victor. Having secured a win through cunning, talent and sheer combat proficiency. Plus, he’d managed some excellent training, stretched his limits, and secured some more freedom to maneuver.

  He thought of the bag in the workshop, and the map locked away in his desk. His first true move against the Families, and the invaders through them, would be soon.

  Sela watched her son’s smile dim as thoughts flashed like lightning behind his weary eyes. Her little boy was hiding something, but all she could do was give him time. Talent like his never came without a cost. She just hoped when he chose to share his burden, they’d be able to help him ease it.