“Here’s your tea, my lord,” Eun-Wol pced a cup of ginseng tea on the small coffee table before Im Ilseong, its pale yellow color emitting the familiar soft scent of honey that blessed the candid man’s nose occasionally.

  Im Ilseong shifted slightly upon the beige sofa he was seated on, moving aside the pillow that was resting upon his p so he could be free to reach for his tea.

  He was seated in his home cinema, a cozy room of warm wooden panels with soft strip lighting along its edges, watching on the rge screen on its wall the ongoing Grimoire sparring css for the first year students, particurly Merlin Tyrrell’s and Park Yuri’s.

  “Are you ever going to stop with that particur honorific?” Im Ilseong asked as he took a sip of his tea and smiled.

  Eun-Wol straightened on her feet, the tray she held wrapped around her arms. “That is all I can think of befitting your status.”

  Im Ilsong’s lips twitched. “I’m just a S-Css Mage, Eun-Wol ssi, not a king. Sir, would do.”

  “Sire, it is.”

  “I said: sir.” Im Ilsong sighed, taking another sip of his tea. “What do you think about the child? You’ve met him a couple of times, haven’t you?”

  “I have, yes,” Eun-Wol replied, turning her gaze in the direction of the TV. “Do you want my honest evaluation?”

  “When have I ever asked you otherwise?” Im Ilsong said, smacking his lips together.

  “Then,” she cleared her throat, “I think he’s still quite green. Basically, he’s not ready to shoulder what you have thrown upon him. He’s prone to mistakes and rash decisions. And… he’s tardy.”

  “Well, he’s still a child, technically.” Im Ilseong sighed.

  “Which is why I think you were too hasty with what you asked of him.” She paused. “But, I’ll say… He’s quite good with his ability.”

  “Oh…” Im Ilseong’s brows jumped up, now interested in the way the conversation was headed. “Go on.”

  He’d always been a sucker for discussions on magic in general, but now he’d been grabbed at the scruff of the neck by anti-magic, causing his enthusiasm to shift its way; and since there was only one Mage who could make use of that particur ability, he found himself questioning others about the boy whenever he had the chance.

  Eun-Wol remained silent for a moment, watching the battle on the screen py out, as Merlin evaded the attacks of the phoenixes, fshing into view before Park Yuri, and then moving out of the way a split second ter. After which he channeled his mana and turned it into an ethereal version of whips wrapped around his arms.

  “He’s quick, smart in battle, innovative, and sharp,” she said. “I’m confused about one thing though, my lord. How is he able to channel so much mana for a Deficient Mage, and not explode without a Grimoire?”

  Im Ilseong caressed his mustache. “Trust me, Eun-Wol, I have asked myself that question many times. The amount of mana he channels should technically be enough to cast spells, even if crude ones. But the Consortium has never gotten their evaluations wrong. There’s no way he isn’t a Deficient Mage.”

  “Perhaps it’s because of his anti-magic?” Eun-Wol asked.

  “That is my theory,” Im Ilseong replied, putting down his cup of tea and leaning back into the couch. “I have thought about requesting a Grimoire for him to see if he would be able to attune with a Hex. But…”

  “But it would draw unwarranted attention the boy’s way,” Eun-Wol completed Im Ilseong’s words on his behalf.

  Im Ilsong chuckled. “I think the boy already has a lot of attention drawn his way, he just doesn’t know about it,” he said. “But you’re right. If I say anything more, then he will most definitely be taken into custody by the Consortium and put through tests.”

  “And his school life will end,” Eun-Wol added.

  “Yes.” Im Ilseong nodded. “Which is why I am still thinking of a way to convince Hyeonki to have a look at the boy without the rest of the top brass knowing any more of what an anomaly he is. That way, we’ll find out about how his ability works, while he still goes on with his life like nothing is happening.” Eun-Wol nodded. Im Ilseong picked up his pillow, rexing once again. “Oh, look. He gave up. He’s not invincible after all.” He chuckled.

  A loud thwack swept through the room. Dmitri’s hand had connected with Nikoi’s cheek, sending the boy stumbling a few steps back as his whole face reddened. It hurt so much that he couldn’t stop his tears from rolling out of his eyes.

  “What was that dispy, Nikoi?!” Dmitri thundered. “How could you disgrace me in such a manner? Losing to a Deficient Mage without even nding a single hit? Disgusting!”

  Nikoi’s lips quivered. He tried his best to stand upright, but he couldn’t meet his elder brother’s gaze. It felt like if he did, his whole world would crumble in that instant. He couldn’t look up, so he lowered his gaze instead.

  “I-I’m sorry. I tried my best,” he mumbled, unsure what else to say.

  “You’re sorry? Your best?” Dmitri’s voice was like a violent wave crashing against the walls of a castle. “Come closer. Now!”

  Nikoi hesitated, but moved regardless. Dmitri clutched the boy’s chin and raised his head up; their gazes met. Nikoi drew a sharp breath.

  How could his own brother be looking at him with such ferocity in his eyes? This… This wasn’t the elder brother he knew.

  “I’m sorry,” he muttered instinctively. It was all he had been able to say for a while now.

  Ever since Dmitri had left to become a lecturer at Prestige Academy, Nikoi had always been apologizing. It was like whatever he did wasn’t enough anymore. Like it wasn’t enough for them to just be brothers anymore. He had to be more. He had to always be more.

  But… He couldn’t. He had tried. There was nothing more a D-Css Mage like him could be. Why couldn’t his brother understand that?

  Dmitri hardened his grip on Nikoi’s chin. “I don’t want your apology. I want you to do better. You’re low on the Academy rankings, and your Cohort is only a measly third in the rankings as well. At this rate you’ll be expelled. And what? You’re sorry? You failure of a brother. Do better!”

  “I’ll try,” Nikoi mumbled.

  “No. You will not try. There’s no time for you to be trying. You have to get stronger quickly. That is the whole reason why you’re in this Academy in the first pce.”

  Again. Those words again. Nikoi had no clue what they meant. He was just in his first year at the Academy, why was he to get strong so quickly? Couldn’t he have a normal life like every other student? What made him so different? Was it because he was the brother of a professor? Was that his crime?

  The tears rushed out of his eyes. He just wanted to make friends, ugh, and enjoy his youth, as mother had always told him. If he was to be honest, he hated magic, he hated his Hex so much that using it made him nauseous deep down.

  He hadn’t always been that way; in fact, he’d been happy when he had woken up as an Enkindled. But… It had all changed. He couldn’t even remember when, but for a while now, he’d hated being a Mage, hated the sight of his stupid Grimoire, and hated that he could magically transform into a beast.

  And, most of all, he hated that he was so weak.

  He opened his lips, his thoughts dancing at the tip of his tongue, but the words that came out were a lot shorter and different from what he had in his mind, “I’m sorry.”

  Dmitri let go of Nikoi’s chin with a push, sending the boy stumbling backwards and almost falling to the floor, but he kept his bance.

  “This won’t do,” Dmitri said as he nudged his gsses onto the bridge of his nose. “I didn’t want to have to resort to this method, but at this rate you’ll just keep being nothing but a disappointment, and one day I’ll be unable to stomach looking at you.”

  Nikoi bit his lower lip, holding back all his pent up frustration as he watched Dmitri walk to his table and lean on it. He had to say something here, he realized, assure his elder brother one more time that he could do it, that he wasn’t a failure. But he’d apologized so much that the only words he could think of were ones of apology.

  Was that really all he was now? A spineless brat that didn’t have anything to say but ‘sorry’? His brother had worked so hard to get him into the second ranked Mage Academy in the world. Was this how he would repay him?

  “I-I’ll do anything,” Nikoi blurted out of desperation, finally able to crank out more words than he’d attempted in the st couple of months. “I won’t try my best. I’ll do all I can to get stronger. I promise.”

  The room was silent, and Nikoi felt a sinking feeling in his stomach that he had been unable to reach his brother. He sought out any other thing he could say, more words. But before he could force his mouth to open once more, Dmitri turned around.

  “There is one thing you can do,” he said, “and somewhere you should go.”

  Nikoi swallowed dryly at those words, a cold feeling crawling down his spine. But he was not going to let his resolve falter. He couldn’t remain a sorry sight to his brother, and keep repaying his kindness with failure.

  He pressed his lips together and nodded. “What do I have to do, and where do I have to go, brother?”