Chapter 1064: The tutoring offer
’Ah... maybe that can work.’
The idea arrived while the Western Library remained at the edge of Elara’s vision.
She allowed it to sit for several steps before examining it properly.
The problem with Lucavion’s memories was that every direct question forced him to become aware of what she wanted. Once that happened, uncertainty mixed with caution, his humor returned, and whatever instinctive response she had been trying to observe disappeared beneath conscious thought.
Theory had produced something different.
A principle placed before him had drawn an answer before he finished deciding whether he knew it. His fingers had moved without any obvious purpose, and although Elara could hardly call one reaction evidence, it suggested a method far more useful than continuing to ask him what he remembered.
She could teach him.
That solved several problems at once.
A lesson gave her a reason to place definitions, diagrams, and unfamiliar terminology before him without turning every exchange into an interrogation. She could begin with concepts he already recognized through experience, establish how much he understood in his own words, then introduce the formal language around them. Once she knew his present foundation, she could vary the material gradually.
Modern Arcanian terminology.
Older Lorian terminology.
A diagram without labels.
The same structure drawn according to another convention.
One altered relationship among several correct ones.
If his reactions remained ordinary, then perhaps she had been assigning too much meaning to a few strange moments.
If they did not...
Elara’s gaze drifted briefly toward Lucavion’s hand inside his pocket.
She could find out.
The arrangement had another advantage, one considerably easier to defend.
He genuinely needed the instruction.
Lucavion’s practical understanding had carried him through Selenne’s questions far better than his formal answers deserved, yet that contradiction would become increasingly difficult to hide inside the Academy. He could identify pressure, recognize structural weakness, and reduce unfamiliar principles into battlefield logic with irritating speed, but the moment an examiner demanded accepted terminology, his answers became unreliable.
That weakness had already entered his record.
Marisse had noticed it.
Selenne certainly had.
Future examinations would give other instructors opportunities to notice as well.
’He cannot keep relying on this.’
Lucavion glanced toward her.
"That expression usually means someone is about to suffer."
Elara looked at him. "You are becoming perceptive."
"I have always been perceptive."
"That remains under review."
His eyes narrowed with faint suspicion. "What are you planning?"
Elara almost smiled.
He had learned enough to be wary.
They passed beneath the next arch, where the corridor widened around a series of tall windows overlooking the western grounds. Several students below were collecting practice weapons while their instructor inspected the racks, and farther away the Academy towers had begun taking on the warmer color of evening.
Elara arranged the offer while they walked.
"The results have yet to be posted," she said, "but your oral examination revealed a problem that will continue appearing."
Lucavion slid his hands farther into his pockets. "Only one?"
"One worth correcting."
"That sounds serious."
"It should."
His mouth curved. "You have my attention."
"You understand practical effects considerably better than your terminology suggests. That saved you today because Magister Selenne was willing to translate your answers and test whether anything useful existed underneath them."
"She seemed entertained."
"She was evaluating you."
"Those can coexist."
Elara ignored the remark.
"Another examiner may be less patient. If you give the correct conclusion while failing to explain how you reached it, people will decide why on your behalf."
Lucavion looked toward her.
"Luck," Elara continued. "An inherited method you refuse to disclose. Outside assistance. Perhaps an artifact compensating for deficiencies you prefer to hide. Once instructors begin interpreting irregular results through suspicion, correcting the impression becomes considerably harder."
The amusement in Lucavion’s eyes thinned.
Marisse had already demonstrated that much.
"You make this place sound unpleasant," he said.
"It is an institution."
"That sounded like an accusation."
"It was an observation."
His lips twitched.
Elara continued before he could carry the conversation elsewhere.
"You came to the Imperial Academy for a reason."
Lucavion’s gaze shifted toward her.
She kept her tone casual.
"I doubt that reason was to collect poor theory marks until graduation."
"Grades are only one thing the Academy offers."
The answer came smoothly.
Too smoothly.
Elara slowed by a fraction. "What else do you want?"
Lucavion looked toward the corridor ahead. The lamps curved away between pale stone arches, their light catching against students moving through the distant junction.
"Something I am not giving you today."
A boundary.
This time, Elara left it alone.
She had already spent enough of the afternoon testing how many questions he would tolerate before curiosity began turning back upon her.
Besides, she had another route now.
"I will teach you."
Lucavion walked two more steps.
Then he stopped.
Elara continued just far enough to make him turn after her before she looked back.
For once, surprise reached his face cleanly.
"What?"
"Theory."
"I understood that part."
"Good. We have already made progress."
His eyes remained fixed upon her. "I was questioning your judgment."
Elara’s lips curved.
"My judgment survived Magister Selenne’s examination considerably better than yours."
"And you wish to ruin that advantage voluntarily?"
"You should hear the offer before becoming frightened."
"I am cautious."
"Certainly."
"Fear would require something more threatening than you holding a textbook."
Elara considered that.
"Perhaps I should bring several."
Lucavion stared at her for a moment before a short laugh escaped him.
That reaction pleased her more than it should have.
She folded her arms.
"You already understand pressure, movement, and failure through experience. I can connect those things to the language the Academy expects you to use. We would begin with the principles from today’s examination and work outward from there."
"Work."
"Yes."
"A dangerous word."
"You survived the Mana Control Trial. I have confidence."
"That sounds suspiciously kind."
"I can correct that."
His smile returned, though his attention had sharpened beneath it.
"You are not offering this because you suddenly discovered a passion for teaching."
"No."
"At least that answer was easy."
Elara raised one brow. "Disappointed?"
"I am deciding where the hidden blade is."
"That depends on how badly you perform."
He studied her face for another few breaths.
"You were very interested in what happened earlier."
"I dislike questions without answers."
"And now you want to place me in private lessons."
"I also want to see whether you can survive being educated."
Lucavion’s expression shifted.
Elara kept hers composed.
The blunt answer carried enough truth to remain comfortable.
She did want to test him.
She also wanted to see him struggle through terminology he had spent the afternoon treating as though scholars invented it merely to inconvenience him.
Both motives could coexist quite happily.
"You want to teach me because this entertains you?"
"I expect parts of it to."
"That is remarkably cruel for someone offering help."
"I am still offering help."
"Under observation."
"You make yourself sound like a laboratory specimen."
Lucavion’s gaze lingered on her.
"Aren’t I?"
The question struck closer than she liked.
Elara held his eyes.
Then she answered with the same narrow truth he had used on her repeatedly.
"You are a student with an obvious academic weakness."
"That was careful."
"It was accurate."
"And the curiosity?"
"You appear determined to make yourself more interesting than necessary."
"That is hardly my fault."
"It is frequently your fault."
A quiet laugh passed between them.
Elara resumed walking, leaving Lucavion to follow.
He did.
"You use mana well enough to interfere with spells," she said. "You can identify where structures fail. You understand things through consequence. Then someone asks you to name what you just recognized, and half the explanation disappears."
"I usually find the important part."
"You find the part currently trying to kill you."
"That tends to deserve priority."
"In a battle."
Lucavion glanced toward her.
Elara continued.
"The Academy expects more. Magical theory gives people a shared language for things they cannot afford to rediscover through injury every generation. It lets one mage explain a failure before another repeats it. It allows structures to be reproduced, corrected, compared, and improved."
She felt some of her earlier irritation return as she spoke.
"You treat the language as decoration because your body has carried you through the consequences so far."
"So far?"
"Yes."
"That sounded ominous."
"It was intended to."
Lucavion smiled again.
Elara found herself increasingly convinced that concern only entertained him when phrased politely.
"You seem personally offended by my education."
"I am."
"On behalf of scholarship?"
"On behalf of anyone who spent years learning how to control forces that punish mistakes."
That silenced him briefly.
Elara’s own education beneath Eveline had hardly been gentle. Every reconstruction, every failed spell, every correction had taught her that understanding was neither ornament nor prestige. Theory had given her control over a core she once could barely recognize as her own. It had turned uncertainty into something she could dismantle piece by piece.
Lucavion approached the same world from the opposite direction.
He survived first.
Asked what the process was called afterward.
Infuriating.
Yet perhaps that was precisely why teaching him had begun to appeal to her.
"You are enjoying this already," he said.
Elara looked at him.
"What?"
"You have not even started teaching me, and you already look satisfied."
She considered denying it.
Instead, her mouth curved faintly.
"Perhaps."
Lucavion sighed. "I knew accepting sympathy from you would eventually become dangerous."
"This is not sympathy."
"Better."
They reached a quieter passage leading toward the residential courts. Evening traffic had begun thickening around the distant junctions, though this stretch remained mostly empty.
Elara let several steps pass before she returned to the practical reason behind the offer.
"Whatever you think of my motives, the lessons would help you. Magister Selenne has seen the weakness. Marisse is already paying attention to your record. Other instructors will form their own conclusions once the results circulate."
Lucavion’s smile faded slightly.
"You can either learn enough formal language to explain what you are doing," Elara said, "or continue allowing everyone else to decide what your irregularities mean."
That reached him.
She could tell from the way his gaze shifted ahead rather than immediately returning with another joke.
The corridor carried them several more paces before his voice came again.
"You have put a surprising amount of thought into this."
"Someone had to."
"A compelling argument."
"I thought so."
Lucavion looked at her from the corner of his eye.
"And what exactly do you get?"
Elara met his gaze.
"A competent student would already be sufficient compensation."
"That sounded dishonest."
"Partially."
His eyebrows rose.
Elara allowed herself a small smile.
"I also get answers to questions that currently annoy me."
Lucavion stared at her.
Then he laughed.
This time, she joined him.
*******
Lucavion looked ahead as the sound faded.
So that was her offer.
Teaching wrapped around curiosity, concern wrapped around irritation, and every reason she had given him remained true enough that separating one from another would accomplish very little.
She wanted to study him.
He understood that much.
The examination had given her a glimpse of something neither of them could explain, and Elara was hardly the sort of person who could leave a contradiction untouched after noticing it.
Lessons would give her access to his mistakes.
His pauses.
His reactions.
Perhaps even whatever strange fragments had begun surfacing whenever theory reached somewhere older than his conscious memory.
That made the arrangement dangerous.
It also made it useful.
Lucavion had little interest in becoming a scholar, yet the gaps exposed by Selenne were becoming harder to dismiss as simple ignorance. He had known the purpose of things whose names meant nothing to him. His own fingers had moved before he understood why.
A controlled lesson might make that happen again.
More importantly, this time he would know to pay attention.
Elara glanced toward him.
"You have become unusually quiet."
Lucavion sighed.
"I am mourning my remaining freedom."
"You seem to have survived without much discipline so far."
"A treasured tradition."
"Then perhaps it is time to end it."
He looked toward her.
Elara smiled.
Lucavion felt his own mouth begin to curve.
The offer was troublesome.
So was she.
Perhaps that made refusing it considerably less appealing than it should have.