12. Haldric

twelve

Haldric

Haldric hurried down the palace corridor, tension roiling off him. He'd just come from lunch with his father, and though he'd tried to discuss the Summit that was now less than two days away, the only thing on the king's mind had been Haldric's trip to Khordan scheduled for soon after.

"Don't let the governors intimidate you," his father had said amid a round of hacking coughs. "Stand strong and prove you won't be bullied. They'll fall in line, same as they did for me. And if not, they'll cease their grumbling once you strengthen our alliance with Khordan."

The reminder of his commitment to woo an eastern princess had done little to soothe Haldric's nerves. And as if his concerns over the Provincial Council and his upcoming betrothal weren't enough, now his extended lunch had him running late for his final lesson with Benjin.

If he were being honest, he knew he should probably just cancel. The Grand Magus would understand, and given Haldric's frazzled state, he might be the one to cause a magical mishap this time. But the thought of missing out on this last opportunity to train with Benjin left a hollow ache in his chest.

Purely because of the detriment to our magical education, he told himself, ignoring the faint heat creeping up the back of his neck. That's all.

He reached their usual sitting room, frowning when he found it empty. Benjin must be running late as well. Perhaps he was out on business for the Grand Magus. Haldric moved to sit, then paused when he spotted a slip of parchment tucked under a book on the table. Picking it up, he quickly scanned it.

Got bored waiting for you, so I took the liberty of heading out to the courtyard. It's too nice a day not to get some fresh air. Feel free to join me when you finally arrive. - B

Incredulous, Haldric reread the note twice to make sure he hadn't misunderstood, then crumpled it in his hand, uncertain whether to laugh or snarl. Goddess' mercy, no one had ever been able to push his buttons the way Benjin did—or maybe no one else had ever dared.

Stalking out of the chamber, it didn't take long to navigate the halls and emerge into the courtyard. Sure enough, he found Benjin there, chatting with Mistress Yaz, the stablemaster. She gave Haldric a respectful bow as he approached before saying something to Benjin and ducking into the stables.

Benjin chuckled at whatever she'd said, shaking his head.

"What's so funny?" Haldric demanded as he stopped beside Benjin.

"She said if looks could kill, I'd already be dead, and that she was glad it was me, not her, who had to face your princely wrath." He peered closer at Haldric's face. The scrutiny left Haldric vaguely unsettled, feeling too seen. "Are you all right? You seem even more unhappy than usual."

Haldric pressed his lips together. "If I seem annoyed, it's because a certain apprentice insisted on meeting out here."

Benjin shrugged, appearing not at all repentant. "If you wanted a say, then you should have arrived on time." A pleased smirk tugged at his lips when Haldric let out an annoyed huff. "Besides, if I spend one more session staring at a piece of parchment instead of casting actual spells, I'll go insane."

"We've been over this. Channeling runeflame before you've mastered the fundamentals is dangerous. That's why it's so critical you memorize the basic runes before attempting anything more complex."

"Sorry." Benjin crossed his arms and met Haldric's glare with a steady look. "Either we do some real magic, or this is going to be a quick final session."

Goddess' mercy, Haldric had never wanted to strangle anyone more than he did Benjin. And to think, a few minutes earlier, he'd actually been looking forward to this encounter.

"Fine. Forget it. Good luck with the rest of your studies."

Striving to regain his lost composure, Haldric turned back toward the palace. He'd barely taken a handful of steps before Benjin called after him.

"Come on, Your Highness—humor me. This is our last time training together. Wouldn't you rather have some fun rather than repeating the same boring drills?"

Haldric paused. Everything he'd told Benjin was true. If he was smart, he'd keep walking and be done with these ridiculous training sessions once and for all. It wasn't as if he didn't already have enough on his plate to worry about without dealing with the reckless apprentice's antics.

Yet for reasons he couldn't quite explain, he found himself facing Benjin with a sigh. "What did you have in mind?" he asked, ignoring Benjin's triumphant grin.

"How about a friendly competition? You versus me."

Despite himself, Haldric was intrigued. He wouldn't mind the opportunity to put the obnoxious apprentice in his place. "The stakes?"

Benjin's grin widened. "Pride and bragging rights. Isn't that enough?"

Haldric supposed it was. A shudder racked him as he imagined how insufferable Benjin would be if he won. Not that Haldric had any intention of letting that happen.

"What are the rules?" When Benjin hesitated, Haldric rolled his eyes. "I see you've thought this through as well as everything else you do. How about we each take turns proposing a challenge utilizing a cantrip from one of the seven fundamental disciplines? First to three victories wins."

Benjin considered for a moment, then nodded. "Deal. Who goes first?"

"I will." Haldric raised a brow at Benjin's indignant protests. "Unless you wish to abandon this entire silly exercise?"

"Ugh, fine," Benjin grumbled. "What's the challenge?"

Haldric scanned the courtyard before gesturing to some nearby rocks. "Evocations are the simplest and what you have the most practice with, so we'll start there. Whoever can elevate their stone with runeflame the longest wins. Agreed?"

"Agreed." Benjin clenched his jaw, his light gray eyes flashing with determination.

Seeing him like that, so focused, stirred an uncomfortable feeling in Haldric's belly. He shoved it down. "Right then," he said, clearing his throat. "Let's begin."

The trial lasted upwards of ten minutes. Benjin put up more of a fight than Haldric had expected, sustaining his concentration surprisingly well despite his sloppy spellwork. In the end, however, Haldric's superior technique won out, Benjin's rock clattering to the dirt when his focus snapped.

Benjin glared at Haldric as though the failure was somehow his fault. "I choose Compulsion next. First to force the other out of a circle drawn in the dirt wins."

Haldric felt a ripple of unease. "Hold on. Compulsion's one of the more difficult disciplines, and we've barely covered the requisite runes. Perhaps a simpler challenge first to—"

"Compulsion," Benjin insisted with a defiant stare. "You got to pick the last challenge, so now it's my turn." He raised a mocking brow. "Unless you're afraid you're not up to it."

Haldric sighed, resigned. "So be it."

He tried to settle his worries while Benjin etched a crude circle in the dirt with a stick. They'd gathered a bit of a crowd by now, several servants and guards stopping to watch. Haldric even spied Mistress Yaz peering out from a slate in the wooden stable. He considered urging them away for their own safety but decided to leave them be for now. None of the magic he or Benjin were using should be particularly dangerous, even for someone of Benjin's skill level.

Besides, Haldric thought as he took up position across the circle from Benjin. I have to admit, this is actually kind of fun . And it wouldn't hurt for the people to see their prince as more than an incompetent replacement for his lost sister.

Benjin called, "Ready. Set. Go!"

A thrill coursed through Haldric as he channeled his runeflame in a wash of blue and silver, beginning to weave a Compulsion to trick Benjin into thinking he wanted to step out of the circle. Before he could even finish forming the nascent enchantment, Benjin's iron will slammed into him, shattering his concentration. There was no subtlety to Benjin's technique, no finesse. It was raw command—the inescapable urge to move .

But that didn't make the brute attack any less effective.

In the blink of an eye, Haldric stood just beyond the circle, trembling from the residual touch of Benjin's will upon his mind. He glared at the apprentice, straightening his back.

"A command that crude wouldn't hold more than a second or two at most. Not to mention how much of your runeflame it must've wasted. Such magic is highly inefficient and risks damaging the target's mind if you're not careful."

Benjin shrugged, fixing him with a smug look. "And yet, it worked just fine on you, didn't it?" A slight notch appeared in his brow. "Besides, I never would've kept pressing if I felt it hurting you. Not bad for my first real Compulsion, huh?"

The sheer joy in Benjin's voice defused most of Haldric's annoyance. It was hard to stay upset when Benjin was so excited over his success. Besides, he had won the round fair and square.

Tied one-one, Haldric selected Restoration next. He won handily when he managed to repair a rusted sword they had someone fetch from the nearby armory far faster than Benjin.

Benjin followed up with Conjuration, challenging Haldric to see which of them could fill a jug of water the quickest. Drained as he was after his stunt with Compulsion, Benjin still narrowly pulled off another win, even if he sloshed as much water over the jug's sides as he got into the jug itself.

Haldric had to hand it to Benjin—despite his other flaws, he certainly had a gift with runeflame. Perhaps Dexil had been right to select him as his apprentice after all. Another year or two of the same training Haldric had received, and Benjin would likely surpass him.

He would've expected that thought to leave him depressed. Instead, he was astonished to find it filled him with a weird sort of pride—one that had him close to smiling at Benjin each time their eyes met and sent warmth heating his skin at their casual banter.

By the time they were readying themselves for the fifth and final challenge, Haldric realized he was grinning wider than he had since Melisie's passing. Somehow, being with Benjin made it easier to set aside the mask of the confident prince and live in the moment.

It was Haldric's turn to select a challenge, and he considered the remaining options. Benjin struggled the most with Divination and Protection, so Haldric knew he'd be likely to win if he picked either. Both disciplines required a certain finesse that Benjin lacked.

Yet, as badly as Haldric yearned to triumph over the apprentice, he didn't want to win by default. He wanted to know that he'd earned his victory. That meant selecting a challenge that would play to both their strengths.

Recalling the artistry of Benjin's fire puppets, Haldric gestured to a stack of firewood stacked against the stable's wall. "I choose Alteration. We'll each pick a log and shape it into a new form. Whoever manages the best design wins."

Benjin appeared taken aback. "Best by who's judgment?"

Haldric glanced about the courtyard and the sizable crowd they'd gathered. "I suppose by our own. It's not like anyone else here can be trusted to remain impartial—not where their prince is concerned."

Benjin smirked and cocked an eyebrow. "That requires that you trust me to be fair."

"I do." The instant admission caught Haldric off-guard, and he was even more surprised to realize he actually meant it. He did trust Benjin. By the Goddess, when had that started?

Benjin's grin faded, his wide eyes almost vulnerable while he stared at Haldric.

Needing to look away, Haldric strode over to the pile of wood and selected two logs of about the same size and shape. He set one in front of each of them.

"Right, then. We'll start whenever you're ready."

His piercing gray eyes still fixed on Haldric, Benjin nodded.

Haldric cleared his throat. "On the count of three. One. Two. Th—"

"Well well, what is this? I'd heard there was a spectacle in the courtyard, but I didn't expect to find my pupils at the heart of it."

Haldric spun to see the crowd part around Grand Magus Dexil. His face wasn't harsh, and his words bore only the faintest ring of admonishment. Nevertheless, Haldric's face heated with shame.

"S-sorry, Grand Magus," he said, bowing his head. "It was my idea. We wanted to practice some of the cantrips we've been learning"

"So I see." Dexil's violet gaze lingered on the remnants of the other challenges they'd left scattered about the courtyard. "Whatever you think is best, Your Highness. Just remember to take care—magic is a tool, not a toy."

Guilt cinched Haldric's stomach as he watched the Grand Magus depart. Dexil was right—Haldric had no idea what he'd been thinking when he'd agreed to this idiocy.

Unaware of Haldric's inner turmoil, Benjin flashed him a grin. "Right, where were we?"

Haldric straightened his back, letting his usual mask fall back into place. "This contest is over."

Benjin's grin faded, the sight tugging at Haldric's gut. "The Grand Magus said it was fine. You can't leave right before the final challenge."

"I can and I will." Haldric glanced at the crowd and felt a fresh wave of shame. By the Goddess, had he really thought to impress them with this embarrassing stunt? "The Grand Magus also said we shouldn't abuse magic for our own personal amusement. It's time we return to our other duties. I'm sure we both have far more important things to do."

Hurt rippled over Benjin's features, quickly muffled by a scowl. He made a show of bowing deeply. "Of course, Your Highness. My humblest apologies for forcing you to debase yourself with such idle pursuits. I beg your royal forgiveness."

Benjin stalked away, shoving through the dispersing crowd. Haldric watched him go with a hint of regret. So much for enjoying our last lesson together. Still, he stood by what he'd said. He didn't have time to waste on pointless amusement with anyone…the obstinate apprentice included.