Chapter 166: Serie, Do You Want a Daughter?
After that conversation, she seemed to have taken his words to heart.
She did not change immediately, and she did not say anything to the girl. But a subtle shift had occurred. At first, it was just in the small, everyday things. She no longer used the demons as an example to stir the girl's hatred after every practice session. Instead, when she succeeded, she would critique the imperfections in her mana flow, to help her to do better next time.
Flamme noticed the change. She was a little confused, but mostly, she was relieved. Before, every successful spell had felt like another shovel of dirt on her family's grave, the pressure of her revenge a constant shadow at her back. But now, her teacher was no longer pushing her, and the tension in her own heart began to ease.
And then, she began to consciously adjust the content of their training. She still taught her powerful offensive spells, of course, but she also, along with him, began to teach her holy magic, a subject that had once been his alone.
Perhaps she really was just making an exception for this one girl.
Flamme, of course, had not heard their conversation, but she instinctively attributed the change to him. She had seen how gently he guided her, and now her other teacher was doing the same. It had to have been him. The thought filled her with a new sense of gratitude, and a deeper affection. And the conflict she had once felt between their two different teaching styles was now gone.
Serie was still strict, but her focus was now on the magic itself, on immersing her in its vast ocean. And he... he was a lighthouse in that ocean, a beacon to guide her when she was lost or tired, a guide to show her the wider, more expansive aspects of magic.
And in that new atmosphere, Flamme was able to devote all of her energy to her studies, and her growth, once again, accelerated.
One afternoon, Rhodes was sitting in his rocking chair, watching Flamme demonstrate her magic for Serie. The little girl was now a young woman, and though she was still a little green, she was now a capable fighter in her own right. He had been thinking that it was time to take her out for some real combat experience, but there were no monsters in their immediate vicinity. A flower grown in a greenhouse is a fragile thing, and the path she had chosen to walk was a stormy one.
Her spell was a success. Several spears of light appeared around her, and at her command, they shot towards the ground and exploded.
"Very good. You've done well," Serie said, a rare note of direct praise in her voice.
Flamme smiled, a smile of pure, unadulterated joy, not just in her own success, but in the magic itself. She had not only cast a light spear spell, but had also imbued it with a tracking ability.
It was a spell that he and Serie rarely used anymore. He had modified all of his own spells for a wide area of effect, and she, for her part, no longer had the patience to waste her time in a battle trying to predict an enemy's movements. It was much simpler to just block all of their escape routes. That was her style. But it was a style that only she could afford. No ordinary mage could handle the immense mana cost.
At the thought, she lifted her chin, a look of pride on her face.
He watched her and, with a cup of fruit tea in his hand, he walked over and handed it to her. She took it, her eyes still on the excited young woman.
"How does it feel?" he asked softly, a hidden meaning in his words.
She took a sip and, instead of answering directly, said, "Human children... are much more complex than elven ones."
She had never had much contact with them, but this one... she had brought her a surprise that was greater than all the other surprises of the past thousand years. To watch her grow, to be shaped by her own hands... it was a satisfaction she had never felt before.
But it was a one-time thing. Flamme would be an exception, a special case, the only one she would ever nurture from such a young age.
"To observe her, as a special case," she said, a new, interested light in her eyes, "it will be a very interesting story."
It was a concession, and more. It was an acceptance. She no longer saw the girl as just a talented apprentice, but as a person, a person worth understanding, worth guiding.
"Yes. Very interesting," he said with a smile, looking at the small figure in the sunlight. "To watch her grow, to watch her learn, to watch her find her own path... it is, in itself, a miracle far greater than magic."
Flamme, as if sensing their gazes, turned and gave them a bright smile, and waved. He waved back, and a bold new idea came to him.
"By the way, Serie, do you want to experience this feeling again?"
"Hm? What do you mean?"
"I have a way. A way for you to experience this process all over again. And if you want... you can experience it more than just once." And then, he thought to himself, our own daughter... her talent will surely be no less than Flamme's.
"I don't understand," she said, his hidden meaning completely lost on her. "And once is enough. Flamme will be an exception."
He didn't press the matter. He just smiled. There would be other chances.
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