Imperfection - Chapter Seven (Patreon)

Olwen

Adversity is usually something talked about rather than dealt with. I know what it is, and the circumstances surrounding it but today it feels like nothing I’ve ever spoken of. Today marks another week of my banishment to the capital. It also marks another week that I haven’t heard from my brother. And as such, I’ve resorted to listening and tracking Ethos reports. It’s the only thing I can do to keep from going insane. Not much is being said over transmissions, and every time I request the information from the capital, I am sent a rejection by the king that the matter is out of my jurisdiction. My patience is beginning to thin with the monarchy and my place in it.

I quickly finish another set of notes before shifting my attention to the arena. News of my station in the capital has spread amongst the classes, the heads of the academy reaching out to ask for Tiberius’s instruction during my more lax days seeing as we are close enough. As a result, I’ve spent more afternoons than I care to count at the academy, watching Tiberius give lessons to the upcoming graduates of the knight’s class.

My anger once again flourishes to the surface as I watch Tiberius. He’s relaxed as he teaches the students combat, his voice carrying easily over the crowd with authority. The gall of him to call me arrogant when speaking to me in such a way makes me physically heated. I scoff aloud at the memory.

Arrogance.

It is something I’ve always attempted to be aware of. It was the downfall of every great civilization in the history of the world. Hearing those words from someone of lower ranking would usually mean nothing to me. What does someone of a lower status know of arrogance? For some reason, hearing those words dripping with disdain from Tiberius has stuck with me. I have been anything but arrogant. I have been patient, understanding, and confident in my decision making, but arrogant? Impossible.

I can’t help that I was born with more knowledge than the average human. I am firm in my decisions because I know what they will lead to, unlike my counterparts. But he calls that arrogance.

“Ack!”

I look up as another cadet is thrown to the ground by Tiberius. They always do this at the end of their sessions. They spar. And for some reason, each of the students thinks they’ve learned enough to take on one of the most talented men to ever set foot in the academy. I don’t understand the decision in the least. Even the ones who are comparable to Tiberius size-wise do not stand a chance. But they cannot see that, each of them taking him up on the offer of attempting to beat him in hand-to-hand combat.

And yet I am the arrogant one.

“Okay, that’s enough for today. I hope you all have taken as much as you can from today’s session. And thank Miss Sheridan for being so gracious as to allow her guard to train the lot of you.” The head of the group steps up as the room full of students face me, their jumbled thank yous filling the air. I give a small smile at the gesture as I always do, watching them curiously as they exit the arena. Surely they are not all so dull they cannot comprehend how much they lack in hopes of defeating Tiberius.

I lay down my tablet, approaching the ring as the cadets all file out, leaving me alone with Tiberius. I silently eye him upon my approach. He removed his shirt a few classes ago, revealing the thick rows of muscle along his chest and back. His hair is wild and slicked to his forehead from sweat, but he mindlessly pushes it out his face as I approach, turning to face me. His demeanor shifts almost instantly in a driven attempt to hide his emotions.

“Do you enjoy this?” I ask gesturing to the mats.

He shrugs, pulling a towel from the corner to wipe the remaining sweat from his forehead.

“It’s something to do while we wait out your banishment I suppose,” he says eyeing me carefully.

I chuckle at his words. He’s testing me, once again seeing how far he can take it before I get angry. He does this a lot ever since his reveal of how he feels about me. It’s as if he’s daring me to prove him right; testing my patience while he’s at it.

“You jest, but you seem to enjoy teaching them how to fend for themselves,” I say. Tiberius watches me carefully, his honey-colored eyes filled with distrust.

“They’re of no use to anyone if they are dead.”

“True,” I say pulling myself over the chords of the ring.

Tiberius’s eyes widen in shock and he takes a step back.

“Miss Sheridan-”

“What? Can I not step into the ring with the master?” I say.

His eyes shift over the area before landing back on me.

“Someone of your status shouldn’t be in the training ring,” he says. I scoff.

“Did they train you to say that as well?” I ask in irritation pulling his attention.

“It’s an unspoken rule. It is what I exist for. You should never waste your intellect on something so brutish.”

“And what if something should happen to you? Am I to remain like the king’s last advisor and be held for ransom?” I ask.

Silence stretches over us and Tiberius seems to be thinking. His eyes roam around the room before landing back on me.

“It just isn’t proper,” he says.

“Proper? You mean in the way you told me I was arrogant?” I ask.

“That was-”

“Different?” I finish his sentence, earning his attention. He doesn’t like it when I predict his movements or his words, I’ve learned. And I can’t help but smile at the reaction I get from him in doing so. It seems to be the only way to frustrate him other than outright degrading his existence. And frustrating him gets me a reaction.

“One round. Trust me, it won’t be as easy as you think,” I say. Tiberius tries once more, taking a step away from me.

“Miss Sheridan, please.”

I frown in irritation.

“Now who’s the arrogant one?” I ask.

Irritation flashes over his features, but he quickly hides it before releasing a breath.

“Fine. But I warn you, this isn’t something that is done.”

I chuckle, holding my hands up in defense.

“Do you think I am not aware of my own customs? I will take responsibility.”

Before he can respond, I attack. His eyes widen slightly as he watches my approach before he gets on defense. I’ve watched his training and his movements over the past few days. I understand his fighting style as if it were my own. I attack his right side which is his weak side and he blocks me just as I expect. I then lift my leg, bringing an attack to his exposed ribs. He flinches, but it isn’t enough to knock him off his feet.

I know I am smaller than him physically, which is why it would take my entire body weight and smart moves to bring him down. And even then it would only be possible if I knocked him off balance. If he gets a hand on me, however, it’s over. So I quickly bring my leg back, putting distance between us.

A smirk plays on Tiberius’s lips as he studies me.

“So you’ve been paying attention as well,” he says.

Now it’s my turn to shrug. But he’s on the offense before I can finish, his arm coming toward my face. I dodge, quickly gripping his wrist and using my body weight to wrench him off his feet by wrapping my legs around his arm. We both fall to the mat, wrestling until he is on top of me, pinning me to the mat. My arm is pinned behind my back as his knee presses into my back.

“Say uncle,” he says above me.

I don’t understand his phrase or why I would call for someone who can’t hear me, but Tiberius’s grip tightens.

“Okay, okay!” I snap.

He finally releases me, standing with a smile on his lips, watching me as I rise as well, rubbing my arm.

“I thought you could predict any outcome. Did you really think you could beat me?” he asks.

I shake my head.

“Of course not. The likelihood of me beating you is slim, especially against your years of training and muscle mass. I was, however, curious as to why the cadets put so much effort in taking you down day after day when they obviously have no chance,” I say.

Tiberius’s smile disappears and he’s watching me again with that strange expression, crossing his arms over his chest. I notice his muscles flex with the motion, but hide my ogling as he speaks.

“Because they have something your predictions don’t account for. The desire to become something more than what your system tells them they can be.”

I laugh at his words, his expression darkening when I do.

“That’s a nice sentiment, but that isn’t what built this society,” I say. Tiberius shakes his head.

“And what about me? According to your society, I shouldn’t be where I am today,” he says.

“You are an anomaly. I never said there wasn’t room for those. Of course you have variants within a society which is why we even began opening our borders to outsiders. If anything, you prove our way of life works. But not every single person who steps up to fight the man who shattered those values is a proper candidate for what they seek, no matter their desire.”

Tiberius doesn’t respond and I know why. He is hiding his anger. He doesn’t realize that the more time I spend around him the more I understand how to get to him and what bothers him. It’s only a matter of time before I figure out this man.

“I do see why you enjoy training them so much. You see yourself in them. And that is admirable, Tiberius. No matter what I have to say about the situation,” I say.

Tiberius’s eyes widen as he looks at me in shock. I myself am shocked at the words that just left my lips. I find things like that to be a form of weakness and yet here I am expressing it in a positive light for the sake of Tiberius’s feelings. I suck in breath, moving away from him.

“But that doesn’t change their usefulness. Most of them will never accomplish what you have. It’s just impossible. Get changed quickly. I have a busy day scheduled.”

*

Contrary to my words, I lied about having a busy day scheduled. I needed to be away from Tiberius to clear my head. Thankfully, Augustus had some things for me from the palace upon my return. Although they denied my request for information regarding Ethos, the intake of outsiders list I requested has been delivered. So for the past few hours, I’ve been reviewing the list for any discrepancies I can use to help my brother.

I look up as Augustus places a tray of drinks on the coffee table. He silently goes about his work, placing the cups and kettle in their proper places. I take note that his eyes remain glued to the floor as he does so. Unlike Tiberius who is always looking directly at me. I silently look around, but Tiberius is nowhere to be found.

“Is Tiberius ill?” I ask.

Augustus stands tall, his eyes lowered as he speaks.

“He’s walking the perimeter of the property. I can ensure he brings your refreshments from now on if that would please you?” he asks.

It’s refreshing being near Augustus. Everything about him is as clear as the look on his face. His hands are clasped in front of him to properly control his nerves, but his grip is so tight his knuckles are turning white. The longer I watch him the more prominent Tiberius’s words play across my mind.

“Augustus, where did you come from?” I ask.

His eyes widen slightly, but they remain lowered as he speaks.

“The outside.”

“You can look at me, Augustus.”

He slowly raises his head, his eyes focused on me.

“Where on the outside did you come from? Did you ever dream of becoming anything more than a servant?” I ask.

“Of course not. I hailed from a small province. There isn’t much opportunity on the outside any longer-”

“But you tested extremely high, did you not? You were clearly suited for something other than this.”

“I am not suited for life on the outside. I was lucky enough to be selected as a servant of the interior.”

I laugh, gesturing for Augustus to sit on the adjoining cushions. I can see from his demeanor he is terrified too, but he follows my order anyway.

“If I’ve done anything to offend-”

“No, you haven’t. I am just curious as to what kind of person you are. Or rather, who you could’ve been had you not been placed within the limitations of our society,” I say absentmindedly. Augustus visibly pales from my words but I lean back in my seat, irritation at Tiberius’s words getting to me in such a way that I am curious about those in my own house.

“It’s been nothing short of an honor being chosen to serve your house.”

I study Augustus. His terror is deep-rooted.

“Right,” I say softly before going back to my reading. I don’t know why I let Tiberius’s words get to me. No matter their potential, no one in this world would step outside of the limitations set on them. That is why Etherium is the perfect society.