The Sixth School Boo Ii

Author's note.

IMPORTANT NOTICE.

This will be the last chapter for the year. Next one will be in 2025 after the new year, God granting us life. Merry Christmas and a blessed new year everybody.

And as usual,

1). Remember, your help in pointing out errors will help keep me from having to take long periods off to edit. Your help in this is much appreciated.

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All Characters in the story are 18 years of age and above...

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Chapter Two: A Broken Family...

"What's up old man?"

Lothar couldn't help but stiffen up a bit at the sound of Roka's voice. He, however, forced himself to relax once more, consciously pushing down the fear that gripped him any time he was in the young man's presence. As the boy took a seat across the table from him on the deck of the airship, Lothar only spared him a glance before turning his gaze back to his task. Watching the boy's family. This was the first time they had ever left their little village in the remote regions of Eldaria. Whenever Roka himself was indisposed, either due to training or having to rest, Lothar was to stay close by and protect them from any kind of trouble.

The first few days of travel, the women had been tense and withdrawn, barely leaving Lothar's side when Roka wasn't there. The more they traveled, however, the more they lost themselves to the wonder and beauty of their realm. They had come across many sights and marvels in the course of their travels. From the plains of Mindra to the mountains of Kadar and everything in between. The discovery of just how large their world was had shocked both mother and daughter to their core.

Most Airships were just barebones transport vessels with the minimum amount of comfort that would allow people to get from one point to the other. This was actually a good thing as most wouldn't be able to afford it otherwise. But for the few for whom money wasn't an object, there were airships like the one they were currently on. It was just as large as those other airships, hosted only about a quarter the number that other airships did, and cost about ten times as much. In exchange for the steep cost, however, there was a greater level of luxury on these airships. From exquisite dining to mana-rich rooms where one can meditate in the course of their travels, to even having dedicated servants at your beck and call should you so require.

When Lothar had learned that they were about to be on the run, he'd expected and mentally prepared himself for hard living even as they tried to lose their tail. As it turns out, however, he'd severely underestimated the amount of wealth that the healer carried around with her. Lothar had yet to figure out where she hid her storage device, but every time they needed to move from one place to the next she'd produce a bag of gold coins and pay for whatever expenses they needed to deal with before they were once again on the move. What was even more shocking was the fact that she seemed to have gold in almost every major currency. The copper, silver, gold, platinum, and mythril currency system was basically universal across most human kingdoms and empires. Different regions, however, minted their coins differently, creating local currencies in different regions. With very few exceptions, however, the healer would almost always produce gold coins in the local currency, wherever they happened to be. As such, they had been traveling in luxury for the past six months

Lothar had felt like he had gotten a new lease on life when the healer had agreed to help him. There hadn't even been a moment of hesitation in him when presented with a tier-seven contract that would require him to serve the healer as his master for the next one thousand cycles. In exchange, he would not only be fully restored, but the healer would do all she could to help him become a high-tier mage. There was no promise in the contract that he'd achieve this lofty goal, but just the offer itself was more than Lothar could have ever hoped for. What was a thousand cycles if he could avoid the fate of being eternally mediocre? What was servitude, if in exchange for it, he got the power to pay back all those that had wronged him? What was a thousand cycles if he could achieve the vaunted status of a seventh-tier mage? As far as he was concerned, he was the one that got the better end of this deal.

At least, that's what he thought at first.

Lothar was left unsure how to feel when soon thereafter, he learned that the healer wasn't actually trying to hide the fact that she was a seventh-tier mage. Instead, her mana pathways were so badly damaged that she could only exhibit the power of a third-tier mage. And worse still, only for a few short minutes, past which she'd have to take a break, lest she over-exert herself and do even further damage to her already fragile mana flow system. He had essentially tied himself to a high-tier mage that was only one in name.

Lothar wasn't stupid enough to underestimate the healer. Just because she was weakened, didn't mean that she didn't have the mind of a seventh-tier mage. Her knowledge and understanding of magic was something that he wouldn't be able to get anywhere else unless he somehow lucked out and got another seventh-tier master. That being said, the magic world was one where strength carried the day. As much knowledge as the healer had, if they were faced with a more powerful opponent, they'd either have to lower their heads or flee as they were currently doing. Worse yet, it wasn't just that she was weak, as Lothar would later come to find out, she planned on dissolving her mana pathways and starting over from the beginning. If not for the fact that she had gotten him to sign a tier-seven mana contract in which he was promised healing, Lothar would have begun to doubt if he was even going to be healed.

The weakness of his master, while troubling, turned out to only be the lesser of the problems he was unwittingly getting himself into when he signed on to serve her for the next thousand cycles. The healer, as it turns out, was a former member of the Draknar alliance. A force so powerful that few in the world of magic hadn't heard of it. She didn't go into details, but what little she'd divulged made it clear that she had been betrayed by two high-tier members of the alliance. The healer was licking her wounds all the while planning her revenge on those who had hurt her. And while Lothar could empathize with the desire for retribution on those that hurt you, he had been dragged into an attempt to take vengeance on seventh-tier mages, figures that could end him just by spitting in his direction!

Lothar didn't consider himself a treacherous person, but the moment he'd learned this, he'd begun to think of ways he could get out of the contract he'd signed. It wasn't out of any malice or ingratitude to the healer for her promise to help him. Rather, it was simple self-preservation. Lothar could stand the idea of serving the healer for a thousand cycles only because there was the promise of freedom on the other end. Fond as he might grow of her in that time, he wasn't a martyr. If he was expected to serve a thousand cycles only to end in a suicidal attack against one of the behemoths of the magic world, then the tenor of the contract changed. Rather than an equal exchange, he was being made into a death slave.

But then, just as Lothar was debating within himself whether to wait till he was powerful or to just bolt immediately after he was healed, the boy revealed the power residing within him.

Even now, several months later, Lothar couldn't keep his body from shaking whenever he remembered the power that Roka had displayed. An ant! That's what he was in the face of this power, and it wasn't just because of his tier. The moment that power washed over him, Lothar had known without a shadow of a doubt that he could have been a ninth-tier mage and still it wouldn't have made even a bit of difference. To whatever entity it was that Roka was attached to, he'd just be a bigger ant, easily crushed with a single finger. By all that was sane in the world, Roka was just a first-tier mage, and yet, he had enough power residing within him to help a seventh-tier mage back to the peak of her power. If he repeated this anywhere else in the magic world, he'd either be thought mad or killed for looking down on seventh-tier mages. And yet he'd seen it with his own eyes. Any thoughts of going back on his word and breaking the contract had gone out of the window the moment he felt that power. Lothar had thought that going up against the Draknar alliance would be suicidal. With this new revelation, however, Lothar liked his chances against the alliance far more than whoever it was that Roka had channeled.

"Roka," Lothar replied to the taunt by Roka with a slight bow of the head. This was the fitting gesture of respect that a lower-tier mage showed one of a higher tier. Lothar was perfectly aware that Roka was only at the first tier and he currently in the second. However, even if he'd been a ninth-tier mage, he wouldn't have acted any differently. Only if he ever grew to be suicidal would Lothar try to act like he held a higher rank than one who could channel a literal deity. Until then, his little life was far too precious to lose to such folly.

From the corner of his eyes, Lothar didn't miss the way Roka rolled his eyes at his reaction. In the magic world, strength was everything. If you were powerful enough, then you could do whatever you wished. It thus wouldn't have come as that much of a shock to Lothar if Roka turned out to be proud and arrogant because of his power. After all, Lothar had encountered mages far weaker than him who were far more prideful. The shock, however, turned out to be that there wasn't even a hint of arrogance in the boy. That isn't to say that Roka was obsequious or anything, he just didn't put on airs as Lothar would have expected of one with as much power as he had. To his pleasant surprise, Roka seemed more keen to learn from Lothar than anything.

But while he didn't seem to think too much of himself, Lothar couldn't rid himself of the ingrained fear and respect he had for the powerful. Forget himself, not even his father would have dared raise his head in the presence of someone so powerful. To do so was just seeking death. For three months after he was exposed to that unfathomable power, Lothar hadn't even been able to look the boy in the eye. He didn't speak unless first spoken to and answered to the best of his ability anything he was asked. Some small part of him knew and understood that the boy didn't think of them as orders, but whenever Roka asked something of him, they might as well have been edicts from an emperor. No matter how small or trivial it may have seemed, he'd do it to the best of his ability.

The boy had noticed his fear and rather than inflate his pride, Lothar could tell that it made Roka uncomfortable. This is part of why Roka had taken to calling him by the moniker of 'old man' when he found out that Lothar was actually seventy and not as young as his outward appearance might suggest. In a bid to try and bridge the gap between them, Roka had shared about himself and his life in the little town in the mountains and how he came to be the healer's student. He'd also asked about Lothar's past, and at the time, Lothar wouldn't have dared to not answer...

***

They were gliding on an arrowhead-shaped flying vessel controlled by the boy's familiar when Roka questioned him. "So, is there a reason why a fifth-tier mage would go through the trouble of poisoning you rather than just outright kill you?"

"Because she didn't have any grudge against me," Lothar had replied darkly, unable to hide the murderous gleam in his eyes.

Confusion had been all too clear to see on Roka's face when he asked the follow-up question. "Then why would she want to poison you?"

"Because my coward of a father doesn't have the balls to do it himself. Mage Shia is just the borrowed blade he used to do it!" Lothar had replied calmly unable to keep from growling the answer.

His answer had been followed by silence from Roka and Lothar had tensed thinking that his ire had somehow displeased him. He, however, was wrong. "I get the sense that this is a sensitive topic for you. You don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to," he said, with a look of understanding on his face.

They both knew that if he had demanded it of him, Lothar wouldn't have been able to say no. The memory of the power the boy had displayed had been too fresh in his mind for Lothar to even consider raising any objection against him. That's why Roka's verbal permission not to say anything more if he didn't want to had meant so much to Lothar. Despite his easily discernible fear, the boy hadn't chosen to take advantage.

"Sanz Aran, that's my father's name," Lothar found himself talking now that he had an ear willing to listen. "A fourth-tier mage and head of the Golden Trident merchant group. Both those achievements, however, are only because he married my mother. You see, Mother is from the Jareth family, the most powerful family in the city of Varun. Before he married her, father was just a small-time merchant at the third tier, with a few successful businesses under him. Knowing the man, his pursuit of my mother probably began as a calculated move to get in with the Jareth family. After all, with them, he'd have the resources to take both his business and pursuit of magic to the next level. Somewhere along the way, however, he fell in love with her."

"At the time, however, it wasn't just my father that was after her. Tallen, a scion of the Rotha family also had eyes for my mother. And unlike Aran, the small-time merchant, the Rotha family is the only other family in Varun that comes even close to rivaling the Jareth family in terms of power. Worse yet, Mother had already been familiar with Tallen for far longer than he'd known Aran, so he had his work cut out for him. He went to great lengths to try and win her over but from what information I could gather, he would have failed if not for the intervention of my mother's grandfather. Having been at the head of the family for almost two centuries, my great-grandfather saw the Rotha family as upstarts that were trying to encroach on their domain and consume them from within. To him, they were an eyesore, and he would have never agreed to any union between the two families. And so, with his support, Aran got the woman that he loved. Not a man to dally when an opportunity presents itself, Aran married my mother just a month after he got the blessing from my great-grandfather. It would have been the perfect ending to his love story, only... my mother was already pregnant with me." A bitter smile had crossed Lothar's lips at this point. "Do you want to guess who the father was?" He posed rhetorically.

Lothar had remained quiet for a while after this as his mind went back over the information he'd gone to great lengths to gather, back when he still wondered why his father hated him so. "From what I'm told, great grandfather had never been more angry with mother than when he found out. She was punished harshly by the family. Great-grandfather also generously compensated Aran for the humiliation he had suffered. Generous as the compensation was, however, Aran was heartbroken. Whatever else his faults, he really did love my mother, and this act of betrayal was like a dagger to the heart. Had she been from a less prominent family, I suspect that my mother would have been divorced if not outright killed," Lothar spoke matter-of-factly. "She, however, was a daughter of the Jareth family and great grandfather wouldn't allow the two to part ways. After all, the family name would be tarnished if what had happened got out, and he would never allow that."

"He was stuck! He couldn't do anything to my mother lest he make an enemy of her family. He couldn't divorce her seeing as my great-grandfather wouldn't allow it. The worst part is that even if he somehow managed to divorce her, he'd end up right back at square one. The resources he'd need to ascend as a mage would be out of his reach. Despite everything that had happened, he still needed them more than they needed him. So, swallowing his pride, he chose to go along with it. He'd pretend my mother was pregnant with his child and when I was born they'd act like I was his child. But their little charade was shattered when I was born," Lothar relayed, his hand unconsciously reaching up for his flame-red hair.

"Affinities, especially high ones, are usually passed from parent to child. It's only in exceedingly rare circumstances that a direct child has a high affinity for a school of magic that neither of their parents possess. Rare enough that, even if they had dyed my hair black like Aran's, the truth still would have come out the moment my affinity for the fire element started to manifest. I was a living testament and reminder of the fact that, despite having my mother by his side he'd already lost her to another man.

I don't know whether my mother ever loved my father the way he wanted her to. But with her grandfather threatening to disown her if she further brought shame to the family, she too was forced into the cage that Aran was in. Their marriage became a frigid thing. Any affection my father once had for my mother died and they became two strangers living under the same roof. I don't know about your hometown, but among mages in the city of Varun, monogamy is a rare thing. With hundreds of cycles before them, most people agree to spend a certain number of cycles together before they either part ways or in other cases, cease to be exclusive with each other. As a sign of respect to her, a first wife is owed fifty cycles of monogamy before the husband can marry another wife.

"Zena, a second-tier healer became my father's second wife. They probably got close long before the fifty cycles were up. You see, as soon as the fifty cycles were up, my father married her the very next day! And much as it burned me to see, for the first time ever, I saw the man I considered to be my father happy in a way he'd never been before. He loved her and she loved him and that was that. As far as myself and my mother were concerned, we could have been dead for all that man cared." Much as it had burned him to say, Lothar knew this to be the truth. Even if he wanted to believe otherwise, it wouldn't have changed the reality of the situation.

With a weak smile on his face, Lothar continued. "They had my sister Deina less than a cycle later and for the first time, I knew what it felt like to be loved and cared for by family. Zena and I were mostly on neutral terms. My father had every right to take a second wife and that's what he had done. I didn't resent her for it. But when Deina entered the picture, I actually became happy that he had married her as, through Deina, I finally knew what it was like to have someone love and care for you the way family should." Lothar couldn't keep the reminiscing smile from his face as he thought back to those days when little Deina would always shadow her big brother everywhere with that bright smile on her face. The smile, however, didn't last long. "But as with most things in life, this too eventually fell apart," Lothar stated with a sigh.

"You see, despite being the only one that my father loved and cared for, over the cycles, Zena came to resent the fact that she was the second wife. She wanted to be the only woman in his life and wasn't above plotting murder toward that end. It was only a year after my younger brother Konan was born when there was a failed attempt on my mother's life. Luckily, she had competent guards some of whom gave their lives in protection of hers. She didn't get out unscathed, but that she was still breathing was a miracle given the size of the ambush that had been targeted at her. By this time, my great-grandfather had stepped down and it was my grandfather, Mother's father, who was in charge of the Jareth family. The whole city was turned upside down. Grandfather was ready to go to war with the other families if any of them turned out to be the ones behind this. So you can imagine his rage when eventually, the evidence led right back to his own house!"