Chương 56: Chapter 1.56: Claim your Price

From his raised vantage point, Favius had a perfect view of the situation as Serpens's supporters scrambled back. Carydras had woken up, but he was convulsing uncontrollably. His limbs were flailing about. His hands grasped at the empty air, and his feet churned the sand. After the boisterous air froze into silence, Favius could hear it. The choking, foamy gurgling and incoherent babbling. His heart sank, and in a clear, terrible instant, he remembered one moment that had been so clear during the fight.

The exposed back of the boy's head, his elbow coming down, the sharp crack of bone on bone. The satisfaction of the clean impact.

"Oh my God," Favius murmured. A head injury knocking someone out was so often played for jokes, but the truth was that concussions were among the nastier injuries known to modern medicine, and even in this world of magic... The wet sound of Carydras vomiting all over his Father's enchanted robes, whose sheen of fresh blood suddenly seemed much more ominous, broke his spiraling thoughts. His heart beat faster, but Brutus squeezed his ankle and whispered, "Don't worry, boy."

He noticed absently that the crowd was shifting around Aelia, and he let out a sigh. There's magic here. Brain trauma was difficult on Earth, but surely, a magical healer can do something about a head injury. But Aelia stopped at the edge of the octagon even as the crowd scurried back, giving her a clear path. Favius recalled comparing her appearance to that of a fae queen. The ethereally beautiful Ethercrystal, the dress of living spiritual plants, the avian alienness of her features.

She stood there in utter silence, assessing the situation. Serpens looked up from the ground, from the churned sand in the epicenter where it was still stained with blood and vomit.

"What is she doing?" Favius murmured, but Brutus shook his head between his legs.

"Well," said Aelia in a casually observant tone, "that appears like quite the nasty head injury." The silence lasted, and Favius could see tears in Serpens's eyes.

"Please," he whispered, the word barely audible despite the quiet.

"Please what?" inquired Aelia, not moving an inch, leaning on her staff as she studied the people around the octagon, deliberately ignoring Carydras and his Father.

"Save my son, Magister Vitaii. I beg you." The old woman tilted her head to the side, and Favius felt bile rising as the valuable seconds in the wake of the boy's head injury ran away like water in a river. If there is bleeding in the brain…

"Three favors," Aelia said eventually.

"Within reason, yet commensurate to the saving of your heir, their exact nature arbitrated by the Pontifex should we not be able to come to an agreement." She spoke with slow deliberation.

"Yes, yes," Serpens agreed instantly.

"You have my agreement. Plea—" He swallowed the last word, cutting himself off. Even now he doesn't want to appear desperate. Those politicians. Aelia nodded and strode towards the boy, kneeling down in the sand. But before she touched him, she raised two fingers, looking first at Favius, then at Serpens.

"Oh, one other thing. You heard the Pontifex's judgment. Yet I prefer to be certain about such things. Do you swear to honor the judgment and not pursue any sort of vengeance against my grandchildren for this?"

"In Allfather's name," Serpens hissed, his voice growing dangerously cold.

"I swear. Now take care of my son." The furious glare had returned, yet Aelia just smiled and looked into the man's eyes. He swallowed, and his throat visibly shivered with the effort.

"Please, Magister Vitaii." Aelia nodded and put her two hands to the boy's head. Favius caught a glimpse of how they glinted with a crimson fluid, but Brutus turned around and carried him off. Marcus was right beside him. Favius's heart was beating, but it was as if he was at a great distance from the events. What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck? I can't even begin to understand those people. Brutus squeezed his legs.

"Calm down, boy. What I told you about the dueling laws might have been a little bit draconic." The man's voice should have been reassuring. Yet Brutus was speaking casually, with the tone used to tell them that there would be another repetition of the current exercise.

"There are provisions for accidents, and with the Pontifex's judgment, even should that scum perish, you'll be fine."

"More than fine," Marcus rumbled and slapped Favius's thigh.

"You did very well, boy." He raised a cup of wine and addressed the crowd. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

"To my son. A mighty warrior in the making." The nobles roared a salute. Favius simply let things happen to him. Brutus paraded him around on his shoulders, and one by one, the best-dressed people approached Marcus and congratulated him. Some part of him maintained a sharp smile on his lips. Because I know it's what Marcus expects of me. If I don't… His thoughts trailed off. But with a deep breath, he forced himself to think them.

Not acting like a joyous victor is going to weaken my position, and I need all the strength I can get.

"That was so amazing." He heard a girl's voice from behind him and turned his head. A moment later, Urania squeezed his ankle and smiled up at him.

"The gallant hero defending his little sister." She grinned broadly, and Caliga sniffed beside her.

"Well fought. I always knew you were better than me, but that? I couldn't have done that. The way you moved like..." She took a few steps back and brought her arms up and into a cross block.

"Block and then kick." Urania yelped as she dodged her sister's foot, and Marcus laughed alongside the other nearby politicians.

"Then whoosh. Wham." Caliga finished the act. Urania giggled and gave Favius a look, then grinned at Caliga.

"Have you seen the smile on Grandmother's face? This must have been a major victory for her." Favius's stomach cramped at his sister's display. Even they. They are acting as if I didn't just almost kill a child. He swallowed hard and repeatedly. Need to maintain the facade. I can't throw up. As his sisters' antics continued, Valeria stepped forward and gave him the same smile she had graced him with after the victory.

"Again, well struck, little Ovinius Loran." She nodded at Marcus.

"Your son has done me a favor, Marcus." The old woman shook her head, and Favius could see nothing but the polished steel that was her presence. Why is everyone celebrating me? I should be getting arrested. Should be in the principal's office receiving a dressing down before expulsion. He looked around, and his eyes lingered on the blade of Brutus's axe, glimmering with its arcane rainbow sheen. This isn't Earth. This is another world. I thought I understood them.

But those people treat humans like cattle and see blood sport between children as good entertainment and an opportunity for political profiteering. He tuned back into the conversation.

"Indeed," said Marcus.

"He has grown bold recently. Has challenged too many of your decisions." Valeria's eyes were dark and cold.

"Exactly. Let us hope this serves as a reminder of his station." Favius failed to hold back a shudder, and the Constitutionalist Consul looked at him.

"Child, aren't you well?" Favius swallowed, and the first noise that came from his throat was a dry rasp.

"I'm... I'm fine," he replied. Both Marcus and Valeria looked at him for a moment. Finally, the Consul shrugged and turned to Marcus.

"Let us talk elsewhere. I believe the boy might require some refreshments." She grinned brilliantly.

"I am sure there is some treat at the buffet that will restore the exhaustion of his pneuma." Brutus nodded, and Favius was carried off. The warrior soon set him down to the ground and leaned in, the electric tingling of the aura biting Favius's scalp.

"Keep it together," Brutus murmured.

"I know this is hard for you, but if you let your previous life's softness show now, you could undo everything you've won. This is not over yet. So whatever you need to do..." He casually picked up a piece of spiritual meat from one guarded tray and pushed it into Favius's hand.

"Eat this." He gestured to the servant, who handed him a cup of honey wine or maybe cider, smelling of intense spirituality.

"Drink, and let your pneuma circulate through your thoughts."

"Yes." Favius hollowly stared at the two ingredients until Brutus shoved them into his hands.

"Drink," he hissed in the privacy of his aura, and Favius followed the instructions to the letter. A sip, a bite, chew, and swallow mechanically. Let the pneuma run over his thoughts. Let it wash him clean, wash away the moment his elbow fell, the crack, the cheer of the crowds. Bite, chew, sip, swallow. Circulate. His Grandmother extorting a political rival whose child she could have helped at any moment. Favius pressed his eyes shut and let the pneuma wash over the memory, dissolving it like acid.

A few minutes or hours passed, and suddenly the floral smell that had been so comforting before hit him. A new wave of sickness welled up, but he fought it down. He opened his eyes and took stock. I'm thinking normally again. Later… He looked to the side at Brutus. Later there will be time to process this. But now... My Grandmother. No, the predatory alien that claimed to be his doting Grandmother walked up to him with a broad smile and ruffled his hair.

"I was looking for my favorite grandson," she said. Her eyes narrowed and looked at Brutus.

"Is he taking it poorly?" Brutus nodded.

"He has a kind heart. He is worried that he might have killed the idiot."

"That one?" Aelia chuckled.

"Do not worry, Favius. It will take some treatment, but I am certain that I can restore him. Might take him some more time to relearn certain things, but in a few years, everything will be fine." The feeling of relief was bittersweet.

"That's… That's good news, Grandmother," he said, and the woman nodded. Her expression briefly soured, but she gave him a warm smile.

"Sentiment is the luxury of childhood. Just make sure not to be affected by it once you reach your first majority, Favius. Otherwise, you will not be able to fulfill your potential."

"Thank you," he murmured.

"And as for consequences," his Grandmother continued, "you heard the Pontifex. And also..." She burst out laughing.

"Serpens's attempt at calling back his son. It is obvious to everyone that he was attempting to rescind the idiot's orders to cripple or kill you." Her presence was no longer the shade of an oak. Favius felt like roots were constraining him, strangling him, and he groaned until suddenly the sharp lethality of Brutus's aura surrounded him.

"Consul." The single word from his protector cut through the mage's anger. I don't get her. She obviously cares for me. And this anger, I don't think it's performative. But how can she be so caring to me and so callous about Carydras? He snorted. Not treating your enemies as human is basic human psychology. Why am I acting as if this is a shocking revelation? Humanism is nothing but a thin fabric we apes like to dress ourselves in to pretend we aren't animals.

But some other part of Favius that had adapted to this world, or had learned to appreciate the power of his cultivation and martial strength, seized control of his thoughts. She's worried. And in my debt. And in a good mood, so this is my chance. He put on his best smile and leaned forward.

"Grandmother?"

"Yes, Favius," she said after smoothing her dress.

"With everything that happened, could you test if I have the potential to become a Magi-Caster?" All the warmth drained from the woman's face, yet she chuckled and ruffled Favius's hair.

"Oh, Favius. You are surely not lacking ambition. Yet..." Her burning orange owl eyes met his.

"Even if I wanted to, it would go against centuries of tradition. The Academy does not perform the Trial of Ambrosia on a child below their first majority. But..." She continued with two raised fingers and a grin before Favius could even process the rejection.

"If it's personal power you want, I can certainly help you." Her smile grew strangely mischievous for her age.

"If only you asked me the correct question."