The Sixth School Boo Ii

Author's note.

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.

2). Feedback from my readers is my fuel to keep writing. If you enjoy my work, please take the time to let me know in the comments. It does wonders for my motivation to write.

3). If you read the chapter, please take the time to rate it. It's just a few clicks of the screen.

***

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

***

Chapter Six: Hurdles...

The presentation ceremony had been a whirlwind of meeting and greeting everyone in attendance. Calyn had been careful to mark the faces and names of the ten people closest to the Governor. This isn't to say that she didn't try to remember the others, but there were about sixty people in attendance. Just five minutes of conversation, barely enough time to get to know the one he was talking to, and five hours had gone by. Of course, not all conversations were exactly five minutes long. With the more important figures, Calyn spent up to fifteen minutes in conversation with them. Toward the end, with the less important figures, Calyn was doing little more than getting their names, exchanging pleasantries for a minute or two before thanking them for coming.

But while the presentation ceremony was a hectic affair of trying to get some impression of everyone in attendance, Calyn didn't get that much of a chance to get to know the one she was being presented to. Like her, the Governor had spent the two and a half hours that the ceremony lasted interacting with his guests. Unlike her, however, he only interacted with about ten, at most twelve of the people who had been closest to him when Calyn arrived. The rest had to content themselves with either Calyn or Deriel. The man's time was valuable, and not everyone warranted an audience with him. But while Calyn didn't get to see much of the man during that ceremony, the same wasn't true during this small family dinner that he'd organized for after the ceremony.

Contrary to what she'd expected, Calyn found herself pleasantly surprised by the man. After the past three months with his son, Calyn had expected the Governor of Ethavel to be just as prideful as Deriel. It wouldn't have surprised him if he took every chance to brag about what he owned and what he'd so far managed to accomplish. After all, it was no mean feat not only to become Governor of a prosperous city like Ethavel but also to hold on to the title for more than three hundred cycles despite the many attempts there had been by others to unseat him from this position. But all through the man didn't even say a word about himself, seeming more interested in her than he was in anything he'd done or achieved. Even though it wasn't all about ascension, Calyn surprisingly found herself enjoying the conversation. The man was a good conversationalist and could weave in and out of different topics in a manner that drew you in without you even noticing

In the end, it was her chaperone, Aunt Lina, who first brought up the city and how much it had prospered under his leadership. But rather than take this chance to boast, the Governor had just waved a hand dismissively before answering with a cordial smile, "Anyone who isn't too much of a fool could easily do what I did. You just need to surround yourself with the right kind of people and the rest comes easy," he answered easily with a smile. Of course, no one present was stupid enough to believe him. Delegation was just one of probably ten other things that one needed to be extraordinary at to run a city like Ethavel and keep it as prosperous as it currently is. Still, after being treated to the endless bragging of his son over the past few months, Calyn couldn't help but find the man's down-to-earth attitude refreshing. As his only son and heir, Deriel would have to live within the castle where he was best protected lest the Governor's enemies use his son to get to him. That being said, if this was the man under whose roof she would have to live for the next one hundred cycles, then perhaps it wouldn't be all that bad...

***

Greg didn't allow himself to get excited despite the fact that more than sixty percent of his teacher's mana pathways had been dissolved probably a little over a day after he began. What he thus far cleared was all the mana pathways that were completely dead. The perfect analogy would be a fire burning a heap of wood where dried-out deadwood and recently cut, still-wet logs were mixed in. That the dead wood was first to burn and burn the fastest would come as a surprise to no one. Even though she had managed to claw her way back up to the power of a third-tier mage, most of his teacher's mana pathways were still completely wrecked and had no mana flowing through them. This made it simple for Greg to cut them off bit by bit and then use life mana to dissolve them in such a way that they merged back with his teacher's spirit body.

This last step was the crucial difference between dissolving someone's mana pathways and destroying them. If Greg just cut off pieces of his teacher's mana pathways and just left them there, she would be no better than a cripple in the final analysis. She'd be left unable to use mana as her spirit body was already clogged up with mana pathways that she couldn't make use of. This was why Greg was very careful to fully dissolve every last bit of the sections he'd cut off before moving forward to the next one. After a whole day of continuously using life mana, Greg had already gotten used to the discomfort that it caused him and grown numb to it.

Greg was tempted to let out a sigh as he finished dissolving the final section of his teacher's dead mana pathways in her left foot. However, he had promised himself that he wouldn't allow himself to give his teacher any reason to worry. She was already in pain, she didn't need any added worries that Greg might be flagging and not able to finish the procedure. Besides, sighing audibly would interrupt Greg's singing of his favorite songs from his old world. Greg had begun by sharing his thoughts with his teacher about how he saw this world and the things he'd seen so far. However, after almost twenty hours straight of doing this, not only had he been grasping at straws, but even he had grown tired of hearing himself speak. So for the past ten or so hours, he had simply been singing all the songs he could remember both from Roka's memories or back on Earth. While Greg's voice wouldn't get him any record deals in his old world, he could hold a tune and sing well enough that he was reasonably certain that his teacher would find it comforting.

Singing the chorus of the love song one last time before it ended, Greg let out a long slow exhale through his nose, taking care that it wasn't loud enough to be heard. His hand reached out to his side picking up the vial with a vibrant orange liquid inside. Bringing it to his lips, Greg took a little sip before setting it back down. If the weeping flower tincture was vitality in a bottle, then the endless vigor potion was just that, endless vigor inside a bottle. Of course, Greg knew that the potion didn't provide endless vigor. Unlike had been the case with the wakeless nightmare potion, this was one of the cases where the alchemist that came up with it embellished a bit. The good thing about it was that as long as you kept taking it, you wouldn't run out of energy and your mind would remain clear regardless of how long you'd been awake. The moment you stopped taking it, however, you'd crash... hard! Greg fully expected to be out like a light for a day or two after this process was over.

The citrusy flavor of the potion spread on his tongue and the slight fatigue that had been creeping up on Greg evaporated like a mirage. Rising to his feet, Greg did a few stretches to loosen his muscles and keep them from cramping up after long hours working on his teacher. After a glass of water and a quick bathroom break, he resumed his position over his teacher. Greg took a deep breath, steadying himself before he embarked on what he knew would be the uphill climb in this process, dissolving the still active parts of his teacher's mana pathways...

***

Calyn stood quietly glaring at the guard that was kneeling before her. Her father's words were replaying in her head and unpleasant as they had sounded at the time, she couldn't help but see the reality of them.

"Sometimes, it's not the big decisions that undo a leader. Oftentimes, it's the several little decisions they made along the way that compose the venom that does them in. If you want to be a good leader Calyn, then you can never shy away from doing what must be done. You will be considered cold. You will be thought of as cruel when you do. People won't like you and more than likely, you will sow seeds of hatred when you do. None of that matters! So long as they know that you will never shy away from doing what needs to be done regardless of what opinion they hold of you, then that's enough."

The day these words were spoken was the first time Calyn killed one of her servants.

She had just turned fifteen cycles of age at the time. Calyn wouldn't realize it until much later, but even back then, they'd already started jousting for who would inherit the position of clan head. Young as they were, it was little more than pranks meant to humiliate each other. Still, it was one of those pranks that led to the death of one of her servants by her hand. Illia had been her maidservant for as long as she could remember. If not for one trivial mistake, she probably would have ended up as her headmaid instead of Astra.

A prank had been successfully played on Calyn by one of her several cousins. At the time, she had been too angry and humiliated to put it together, however, for the prank to work as perfectly as it did, her cousins would have had to gain information about her that only those closest to her would know. But while she had been too distraught to notice this, her father wasn't. He had quietly investigated who was responsible for revealing information about her. He quickly found out that Illia had been paid by those responsible for the prank for the information about her. Rather than deal with her directly, however, he gathered all the servants of the house into an assembly. Calyn was called to stand before them. Illia was brought in battered and bruised and forced to kneel before her.

At first, Calyn had been shocked and horrified at what she was seeing. But then, her father had revealed the results of his investigation and showed beyond a shadow of a doubt that Illia had played a hand in Calyn's humiliation. She could remember the rage that had filled her at the time owing to the betrayal. One of Illia's eyes was already swollen shut and her lip was split, and yet, Calyn had still pulled back and slapped the girl hard across the face. She probably would have done more if not for the sword that appeared between her and the servant girl. One of the guards had pulled out his sword at her father's direction and was now presenting it to her handle first. Calyn could remember how quickly the white-hot rage had been extinguished and a cold, sick feeling took its place when it clicked what was going on. This wasn't an assembly where a servant was to be punished, this was an execution and she was to be the executioner.

Yes, Calyn had been mad at Illia. She felt hurt and betrayed by her long-time servant. But angry enough to kill? That was a most definite no. That's exactly when her father had given her the lesson on how what seemed like small decisions at the time could be the very thing that did you in. "Your servant betrayed your trust," her father had spoken in a calm tone, that's the thing that stuck out most to her about that day. He was asking her to take the life she'd known from since she was a child and there wasn't even the slightest ripple on either his face or tone. "Should you choose to forgive her and keep her by your side, do you know what message that will send to your other servants?" He'd asked, his steely gaze shifting to the gathered servants. None of the servants present could meet her father's gaze, each one having their gazes firmly fixed on the ground before them.

"It tells them that treachery won't be punished. It tells them that there is hope that they could continue to serve at our side even afterward. At that point, we might as well expose our necks and let them slit our throats, it'll be a quicker and far more painless death. Meek as lambs they might seem right now, given the chance, however, they'd all turn into ravening wolves and strip the very flesh from our bones," he'd said. Again, Calyn couldn't forget just how calm his voice had been as he said this. There was no anger or resentment in either his voice or expression at what he'd just said. To him, it was just a fact, no different from if someone saw storm clouds on the horizon. Something to be acknowledged, perhaps even planned for, but little more than that.

"You might be thinking of banishing her instead of killing her," her father continued, clearly reading her like an open book. "But ask yourself, is that the message that you wish to send? That if one of your servants were to betray you, all you would do in retaliation is send them away?" He questioned.

"It... it was... just... just a prank," even ten cycles after that day, Calyn would still cringe at just how weak she'd sounded at that moment.

"This time," had been her father's simple answer. "And if she gets away with it, what's to stop her from doing it a second time?" He questioned. Calyn's mouth had opened and closed repeatedly but no words had come out. "Loyalty and trust are fragile things, Calyn, once shattered they can't be reassembled. You need to decide right here and now how you will answer the disloyalty of your servant!" Her father had declared...

Calyn pulled her mind away from the memories of what happened after, her gaze hardening as she looked at the guard that was on her knees presenting her with a sword to kill her with. This was the same guard that she had sent after Deriel's man. When their last meeting had ended, she had ordered her to remain hidden from Deriel's people when she left to get herself new armor. As it turns out, it wasn't just Deriel's people she needed to be wary of. Her cousin, Nerissa, had ordered some of the guards under her to keep a watch on Calyn's carriage and keep her appraised of anything that might happen with her. Her people must have seen this guard enter her carriage in full armor and leave wearing one of her dresses. A garment she'd been given to replace her broken armor.

Her cousin had questioned her, trying to find out what had happened within the carriage and what had led to the change in her garments. If what the guard was reporting was true, the guard had simply replied that all answers were with her master, Calyn, and that Nerissa needed to address all questions to her cousin. Seeing that she wasn't getting anywhere by threatening her, Nerissa had just smiled and asked about her son, a young man who was about to come of age in a cycle or two. Nerissa didn't come right out and threaten the young man, she was far too versed in political games to be so gauche. However, when she started speaking of all the dangers that can befall one so young, the implied threat was enough.

As the death of her first servant had demonstrated, the requirement of loyalty from their servants was absolute. Calyn had later asked her father what if Illia had been threatened, after all, it wouldn't be beyond her cousins to threaten her servant to get what she wanted. Her father's response had been unyielding. "Forget threats, even if they had been tortured to within an inch of their lives, they are still expected to remain loyal and not reveal anything of their master."

The horror must have been all too clear to see on her face as her father let out a sigh and explained. "Think about it Calyn. Do you really think that the Sydrak clan is the only powerful clan there is? If fear for their safety was enough justification for them to divulge their master's secrets, then when threatened by anyone from any of the other clans, fear for their safety would be enough of a justification for them to reveal everything they know about us," he relayed.

"Luckily for us, when it comes to threats external to the clan, we have the mana contracts that the servants signed to rely on. They are by no means foolproof and can be gotten around if our foes are determined enough. Still, they curb a lot of the risk of betrayal we face from our servants. But while mana contracts shield us from her outside threats they can do little for the threats that come from within. No element within the clan can be allowed to cut itself off from the rest of the clan, or else we'd just fracture from within. Which is why all mana contracts require allegiance to the clan and not any particular family," he said.

"But as you so recently experienced, politics within the clan can get just as ugly, if not uglier than politics between clans. You need to know that you can trust the ones who serve you even from the threats that come from within the clan. Otherwise, one day, you will find a dagger in your back and not know how it got there," her father had laid out.

Calyn had hated it. It was a nasty picture of reality and the people around her. What was even worse, however, was the fact that she could see truth in his words. No one who had grown up in the large clans had the luxury of naïveté. Calyn had gotten to see all the nasty ways in which people could come after you. If you were not strong enough to deter them, then there was almost nothing that others wouldn't do to get what they wanted out of you. Part of how one protected themselves was to ensure their servants didn't know anything critical about you. That way, even if they were caught, they couldn't divulge anything injurious to your enemies. On the other hand, cold and cruel as it seemed, was to require that your servants put their loyalty to you above their very own lives. To achieve this, the servants that suffered to protect you were very richly rewarded. If they died in the line of duty, then their families were well taken care of, that way your servants wouldn't have reservations about giving their life for you. If, on the other hand, they betrayed you, then regardless of the reason behind it, you were to make an example of them. That way, other servants knew never to follow their example.

Threatened with the life of her son, Calyn could understand why the guard before her had buckled and told Nerissa everything. In the ugly world of clan politics, however, the reasons didn't matter. She had betrayed her master and thus an example needed to be made of her. Even the guard understood this, which was why she had come to present herself to her master. The woman had confessed to everything she had done and had even taken out her own sword awaiting judgment from her. Her only request was that Calyn not take his mother's failures out on her son. Calyn wasn't insulted by the implication that she would go after an innocent individual just to make a point. She knew perfectly well that there were masters that would kill the woman's son just to make the point to other servants that you wouldn't be keeping your kin safe by betraying them.

A sigh left Calyn as she picked the proffered sword from the guard. This... this was why she hated politics. It wasn't the endless inane discussions, though she loathed those. It wasn't having to parse out every word spoken to see what meanings were hidden in them or even if you could twist and exploit a careless phrase. It wasn't even the inability to trust even those who should be standing beside you, prudence was required when dealing with anyone, politics or not. No. Ever since the day she took the life of Illia, Calyn had hated politics with a passion because it forced her to do things she didn't want to just to maintain an image. This was why she so single-mindedly wanted to grow powerful. The higher she rose, the less she'd have to worry about the perceptions of others. If she took a life, it would be because she wanted to and not because it was expected of her...