"Can I ask you for a personal favor?"
The moment the words left his mouth, Zeke could almost see Solon's guard rising.
No surprise there. Countless people had likely tried to exploit the power and influence of an Exarch for their own ends. That was probably why the three living in Tradespire rarely appeared in public—and if they did, it was with their identities concealed.
Even so, Zeke pressed on. He had no intention of seeking Solon's influence or protection. What he truly valued was the man's unparalleled insight into Space.
If nothing else, he was certain such a request would not offend the Exarch.
"What do you want?" Solon asked, his voice as guarded as his stance. It was clear he was half a mind to refuse outright, yet curiosity compelled him to listen.
"There is a child in my household—one who awakened with a Perfect Space affinity."
Solon's demeanor shifted at once. This was clearly not what he had expected. A good start.
"…I reached out to Cosmoa in search of a teacher, but the conditions they demanded were… outrageous."
This was a gamble. Solon's grayish skin marked him as a Cosmoa native, but Zeke didn't know his opinion on their policies. Still, the fact that he had left his homeland even as an Exarch made it a safe bet that he didn't see eye to eye with them on more than just a few matters.
"…I am not surprised," Solon said at last. His face, and the slight shake of his head, carried a deep bitterness. "Hoarding anything of value has always been the mantra of my kin. One begins to wonder if we are truly fully human—or if we share some dwarven blood."
Good.
This was the most Zeke had ever heard Solon speak, aside from when he had lectured about the mysteries of Space. Clearly, this was a subject he cared deeply about.
"It seems we see eye to eye on that. Knowledge should be shared, not hoarded."
An outright lie.
Though Zeke believed in equal opportunities, he was far too paranoid to ever reveal all his knowledge. His understanding of Soul Magic, for example, was something he intended to take to the grave.
Still, the fact that he had spearheaded an initiative to give commoners access to Magic lent his words credibility.
As expected, Solon nodded slowly. "I have heard of your efforts, and I applaud your dedication…"
That was all he said, but Zeke knew an opening when he saw one. "Unfortunately, my own mastery of Space is far from enough to guide such an exceptional child."
Solon scoffed. "Naturally. How could a child teach another child?"
Zeke's pride chafed at the words. Even knowing Solon hadn't meant them as an insult, the casual dismissal of his abilities and knowledge still stung. Yet he chose to swallow the grievance.
"…Yes. I was hoping you might know someone who could… teach him in my stead?"
Solon stayed silent, his dark eyes fixed on Zeke without a hint of expression for what felt like an eternity.
"Do you think I cannot see your thoughts?" he asked at last. "It is plain you want me to teach the child myself."
Zeke put on an embarrassed look, though it didn't reflect his true feelings. The clumsy attempt to disguise his intentions had been no accident. He had simply wanted Solon to voice the possibility on his own.
"That… was indeed my hope."
Solon fell quiet again, seemingly lost in thought. Another good sign. It meant he hadn't rejected the idea outright. Likely, there would be conditions attached, but that was something Zeke could work with—
"I have a question," Solon said suddenly. "Will you answer it honestly?"
Zeke's brows furrowed. This wasn't what he had expected, but he couldn't back down now.
"I promise."
Solon studied him for a long moment before nodding. "Are you not afraid of having me teach this child?"
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"Afraid?"
The word slipped out, honest confusion in his tone. Why would he be afraid? Wasn't that exactly what he wanted?
Solon's frown deepened. "If a child with a Perfect Affinity were to receive tutoring from an Exarch, how long do you think it would take before they surpassed you?"
Zeke's mind stilled. The question caught him completely unprepared. It wasn't that it awoke a hidden fear or shocked him with some revelation.
No. The reason he was at a loss was far simpler.
"Not at all," he answered truthfully. "I do not fear that possibility in the slightest."
"No?" Solon asked. His tone made it clear he didn't believe the answer. "Then do you hold so little faith in my teachings?"
Zeke shook his head almost immediately. "I believe there is no better mentor for Keiran."
"Hoh? Then is the child perhaps lazy?"
Zeke shook his head again. "He is a mature young man who has never shied away from hard work. He is the kind of boy any mentor would be proud to teach."
"Is he slow to learn, then?"
"Not at all. In fact, I'd say that among all the young talents of my house, his wit is second to none."
This time, Solon didn't ask another question. Instead, a look of baffled confusion settled on his face.
"So…" Solon said at last, gathering his thoughts. "This child is intelligent, hardworking, blessed with a Perfect Affinity, and even with an exceptional teacher, you still do not fear him surpassing you?"
Zeke nodded without hesitation. "That is right."
"Why?"
Why indeed. This question was harder to answer, mostly because he didn't have a clear reason for feeling the way he did. Was it arrogance? Hubris? The influence of his Draconic heart creeping into his thoughts?
Zeke didn't know, and he didn't much care to examine it. Solon hadn't asked for an academic answer anyway, but a personal one. It was only right he answered from the heart.
"My eyes are fixed on the stars," he said. "That means I do not look back at a child learning to walk in fear it might sprint past me."
"Sometimes…" Solon said slowly. "We refuse to see a problem until it grows too big." The cryptic statement was followed by a slight shake of his head, as though warding away darker thoughts. His eyes sharpened in the next moment, boring into Zeke. "I ask you now: what will you do if this child surpasses you under my guidance?"
Zeke didn't flinch from his gaze. "It seems you already have something in mind, senior."
Solon nodded. "If this child surpasses you under my guidance, I would ask that you release him and remove any restriction you might have placed on him."
Zeke studied the man for a moment. It was clear Solon had a personal stake in this, a glimpse into a past he wasn't willing to reveal. But Zeke could guess well enough.
Given the crippling constraints Cosmoa placed on its people, it wasn't hard to imagine the struggles Solon must have endured to win his freedom. No wonder he was so bitterly opposed to their ways.
A smile slowly curved Zeke's lips.
He had no desire to dig into a past the man wished to keep hidden. It didn't matter anyway. What mattered was that Solon had agreed to teach Keiran—even if it was only to soothe the scars of his own past.
That was enough.
"I agree to your terms," Zeke said without hesitation.
Solon frowned. "I sense you only agree because you believe it impossible for this child to overtake you. Be aware: I will hold you to these conditions."
Zeke nodded easily. "I might be a sore loser, but I do not speak lightly, and I never go back on my word. If Keiran surpasses me, I will do everything in my power to sever ties between us."
That seemed to reassure the Exarch; his expression eased. Yet the tension was replaced by something else.
Curiosity.
"…You need not answer if you do not wish to," he began, uncharacteristically hesitant. "But I would still like to know what gives you such confidence."
Zeke pondered. Naturally, he wouldn't reveal his secrets, but they weren't the source of his confidence anyway.
"Talent… Smarts… Resources… Teachers… All of these are valuable, and one can never have too many. But I do not believe they are what matters most in the end."
Solon watched him, his expression unreadable, though Zeke could tell he was listening closely.
"There is another, more intangible quality. One that I believe plays a far greater role for anyone seeking to rise."
"What quality is that?"
"I don't know if it has a name. But if I had to describe it, I'd say it's the voice in the back of your mind—the one that pushes you when all else fails, the one that refuses to yield when your body is broken and your spirit is crushed."
Solon looked at him dubiously. "That is your reason? That voice?"
Zeke shrugged. The phenomenon was hard to explain to someone who hadn't felt it. Maybe an example would help.
"I once crossed the desert of Korrovan during storm season. Did you know?"
Solon's brows furrowed. "That seems a rather simple feat for a Mage."
Zeke nodded. "I did it with no water."
"I am not impressed."
"With no mount."
"…"
"Carrying three unconscious people."
"…"
"With one arm."
"…!"
"Feeding them my own blood so they would survive."
By now, Solon was staring at him with a solemn expression. "Is that the power of the voice you spoke of?" he asked. "Was it that whisper that allowed you to push yourself that far?"
Zeke's smile widened. "Whisper? No. I stopped hearing it as a whisper a long time ago. These days, that voice speaks to me like an old friend. It's the other voice that has become the whisper—the one that says I've done enough, the one that says a human can only endure so much."
Solon gave him a strange look, as if uncertain how to respond.
"Point is," Zeke continued, his grin sharpening, "it won't matter how well Keiran is taught, who teaches him, or how hard he works. It won't matter what advantages he gains or how many secret methods he learns. I'll always be working harder, learning more, pushing further." His grin spread wide.
"The only one who can beat me… is me."
With every word, Solon's frown deepened, his eyes turning sharper. Exactly as Zeke intended. He wanted to stoke the pride of an Exarch, to push Solon into teaching Keiran with everything he had, holding nothing back.
"That arrogance will cost you, boy…" Solon said, his competitive spirit clearly provoked. No surprise there. Anyone who reached the level of Exarch had clawed their way to the pinnacle of their generation through sheer effort. Naturally, none of them would take such a challenge lightly.
But who was Zeke? Did he fear the prodigies of the past—or the ones yet to come?
His eyes blazed with challenge.
"Do your worst."