Chapter 11: Spellflinging

Chapter 11: Spellflinging

For all her attempts to hurry to the task, it was already noon by the time they came to the periphery of the wilderness of Desir. Evelyn had only her brother Jamie to thank for that. The children were easy to organise. One glare from her and they would scurry to complete their tasks. That was the commanding air she had cultivated over the years.

It worked on almost everyone, not just children. Unfortunately, it seemed her brother was the only one impervious to it. If it ended there, Evelyn was fine with leaving Jamie to his devices. But despite reaching his twenties, Jamie was still as zany as ever, even pulling the children into his fold to make things difficult for her. It was as if he lived to annoy her. Even now, he was designing some stunts with their nieces and nephews.

And Evelyn had thought it would be a relaxing trip from her usual high-profile responsibilities.

She shook her head in admonition. Her eyes could not help but dart to the taller figure on her left, who seemed to be teaching his infant child how to nock an arrow from the quiver in one sweep. Unlike her unreliable brother, Sir Cliff exuded an air of restraint and responsibility. She was barely acquainted with him, and even then, she had heard a few good things about his command.

There were more than a few elite knights and warriors who came from House Blackstone, but even among them, he was one of the oddities. Why else would he have refused the chance to marry into House Oberon? Ignoring all the opulent structures and training regimes they had, just the Tier 12 mana-gathering arrays alone pulled in such rich and pure mana that anyone from a lower clan would salivate over it.

His refusal had certainly hindered his progress, as the man was still at the Iron Rank. Perhaps “hindered” was not the correct word. His foundation seemed solid, though she feared Silver would be his limit. Well, for most, Silver Rank was the ultimate goal. But noticing how patiently he was teaching his son, it became evident that rank and class were not his priorities.

Evelyn could laud his compassion, but she could not empathise.

From the very beginning, her talent had set her apart from all her peers. Not only had she been born at Tier 4, but she had also possessed an astounding talent in mana. Her father had allocated a number of renowned tutors to train her from as early as she could remember. Evelyn hardly even knew what fun was, but she had never been indignant at her father for stealing her childhood.

People are complicated, but mana—it’s fun. Exhilarating, even. That was how she had become the youngest to reach Level 100 in their household.

Yet a tinge of wild envy crawled up her chest as she watched Sir Cliff instruct the boy. For all the good it did him, he was still missing half the shots he was taking. The target was not even that far, a gnarled tree barely ten metres away.

Her father had never taught her anything with such patience. All his lessons were cold and practical, never with such affection in his eyes.

“This bow,” the little boy announced, “it’s terrible.”

“The bow is fine as it is,” her sister snickered from behind. “It is just that you are too small and weak.”

“I am not weak,” he argued, setting his jaw. “The string, it’s unnecessarily taut.”

“So you are admitting you are weak.”

The boy glared before turning to Sir Cliff. “I don’t want to learn archery anyway,” he said. “Just wait until I fling fireballs and disintegrate the whole fucking tree.”

“Watch your language,” the knight hollered, eyes widening in shock. “Where did you even learn that bad word from?”

“It’s Rain.” The boy pointed at his sister. “I learned it from her.”

“No, you haven’t,” the girl screamed. “Em’s lying.”

Cliff glared at her all the same.

The light-brown-haired boy smirked at her as Rain made a gesture with a fist. Perhaps, without their father watching over them, she would already have broken into violence.

While the Blackstone siblings bickered, her niece Elin sauntered before them to eye the gnarled tree, a wand in her palm.

“Disintegrate the tree, you say? like this?”

As soon as her voice finished, a beam of fiery light shot from her wand and crashed into the tree. The atmosphere immediately grew warmer as blistering flames arose from it, along with the crisp smell of burning. Everyone’s gaze darted to the fire and its creator, who smiled, her chest heaving proudly.

Evelyn shook her head. Elin always wanted to be the centre of everyone’s attention; it did not matter how much mana she was burning to achieve it.

Before the fire could rise higher, Evelyn waved her palm. Wind-attuned mana spread from her hand and took hold of the air around the tree, isolating any flammable air from reaching the fire. Within a couple of seconds, the flames died, leaving only a deep char mark where the spark had struck.

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Elin pouted at her.

“Save your mana for the hunt,” she advised in an admonishing tone.

“A wand,” the boy interjected, his eyes shining. “Is that a magic wand?”

Elin bobbed her head and announced pompously, “Its a Tier 3 Firewand.”

“Can I see it?”

Elin shot him a look, her lips curling up to display her dimple. Then she let out a curt “no.”

Em’s pupils contracted as he lifted his eyes from the wand to her.

Evelyn shook her head in exasperation. Regrettably, her niece seemed to be turning out more like her brother. Like Jamie, Elin too was born with talent leagues ahead of her peers, giving her an early head start that would take others years to surmount. The Oberons were blessed to have a few such talents in every generation. Sadly, more and more of those seemed to become conceited with their skills.