"When did…?" Lord Brodie began to ask, his words trailing off.
Since Lord Canning revealed the scrolls, Brodie had begun sweating profusely. His thick neck and forehead were slick with perspiration, requiring more wiping than usual.
"When did I get the scrolls? Oh, about the same time you two started your little schemes," Canning interrupted, his smile never faltering.
"How did you know we'd go for them?" Lord Ollie asked, frustration clear in his voice.
"Well, clearly you're the dumb one," Canning teased. "You weren't exactly whispering, were you?"
"I mean, the whole mansion knows who's getting what from your little deal," he added with a smirk.
The two cousins might have bowed their heads in shame, but they weren't capable of such humility. Instead, they stood with their heads held high, frowning in irritation.
Annabeth was both amused and a little surprised. Had they been so focused on their argument that they didn't notice Canning standing right next to them?
"You won't get away with this, Canning! Those scrolls belong to…" Brodie began, trying to threaten.
"Annabeth. The scrolls belong to Annabeth," Canning interrupted smoothly, clearly enjoying cutting off the pompous man.
"Then give them back to her!" Lord Ollie snapped, still furious that he was a step behind in obtaining the scrolls—and equally annoyed at Canning's smug grin.
"So you can snatch them from her? Do you think you're that hard to read? Try again, bird brain," Canning rebuked, his tone dripping with mockery.
Lord Ollie seethed with rage, his hands trembling as he fought to control himself.
Brodie, however, placed a hand on his cousin's chest, signaling for him to stop. A malicious grin spread across Brodie's face as though he had just come up with a new tactic.
"Oh? So now you're going to rob an orphan?" Lord Brodie asked slyly, as if the concept didn't even faze him.
Canning let out a hearty laugh. "Hahaha," he chuckled. "I'm just holding these scrolls for her, actually. If she wants them, she can have them back right now."
Turning to Annabeth, Lord Brodie leaned down slightly, his face coming just close enough to hers for her to feel his breath. He tilted his head so that she was forced to meet his eyes, but one of them was crooked, leaving Annabeth unsure where to focus. She decided to look at his forehead instead.
"I'm your Uncle Brodie," he said with a sickeningly sweet tone. "This man is a deceiving, manipulative fox who will take everything from you. Take back your scrolls from him and come live with me. I promise I'll take better care of you than your own father did."
His smile was wide, but there was no warmth in his words—only a hint of malice disguised by a facade of generosity.
"I will get them later. Thank you for your concern," Annabeth replied politely, her voice steady despite the tension in the air.
"You don't understand, Annabeth," Lord Brodie continued, his tone taking on an exaggerated urgency. "He'll make you live in the street! You won't eat ice cream or have toys to play with. Do you want that, Annabeth? Do you?" He seemed to think that the promise of childhood comforts would sway her.
Annabeth, however, gave him a sharp, almost playful look. "I do not like ice cream, and I've never liked toys," she replied, a hint of cunning in her voice. It seemed her time with Lord Canning was already rubbing off on her.
"Okay, that's enough!" Lord Ollie suddenly snapped, his patience wearing thin. "No one has time for these stupid games! Give me the scrolls, Canning!"
"Lord Canning. They are not mine to give," Canning responded smoothly, his smile never wavering.
"Who cares about your stupid Lord title? You just recently got it anyway! Give me those scrolls, or I'll make sure you regret..." Lord Ollie threatened, but his words were cut short when a hand clamped down over his mouth. It was Lord Brodie's.
"Forgive him, Lord Canning," Brodie said with a forced smile, his discomfort growing. "He doesn't understand how—"
"You'll make me regret what exactly?" Canning interjected, his voice low and dangerous, his smile fading but his gaze sharpening as he stared directly at Lord Ollie.
Ollie pried the hand off his mouth, furious. "I'll make you regret ever being born, you greedy dog! Who do you think you are, huh? You're nothing but a scumbag petty thief with a noble's title! Filthy mongrel!"
At last, Lord Canning's expression turned serious. The air grew colder, and Lord Brodie began to sweat. The entire room had gone silent, with even the mourners who had been whispering among themselves now pausing to watch the drama unfold.
"First, you bring your little argument to my brother-in-law's funeral and disturb everyone. Then you try to rob my grieving niece, just hours after her father's passing, of everything she is entitled to, without a care for her wellbeing," Canning replied, his voice growing more intense with each word.
"To make matters worse, you threaten me, insult me, and then try to compare me to the likes of yourself?" he added, his anger clear.
Lord Ollie sneered, undeterred. "Oh yeah? If you care so much about your brother-in-law, then follow me outside and I'll send you to him!" With that, Ollie spun on his heel and stormed out of the mansion.
Canning looked at Annabeth, his smile returning as he gestured with his head for her to follow him. The mourners, eager for the spectacle of a noble showdown, began to follow suit as though they had been invited.
"Ollie, you fool," Lord Brodie muttered under his breath, watching as everyone walked away. With a heavy sigh, he too reluctantly followed the crowd outside.
*********
Outside the mansion, Lord Ollie stood confidently on the wide stone pavement of the spacious front yard. The ground was covered with grass, except for the wide stone path that led from the gate to a fountain and then to the mansion's entrance. The sun hung high overhead, its rays blazing down on the scene.
Ollie had already shed his outer robe and rolled up his sleeves, preparing himself for the confrontation. It had been a long time since he'd gotten into a fight, and he was eager to remind everyone of his power. Most people underestimated him based on his skinny physique, not realizing he was a skilled Fire magic-user.
Both he and Lord Brodie were in their 40s, practicing Tier 7 magic—Intermediate Fusion magic—allowing them to fuse multiple elements together. Ollie believed Canning, who appeared to be in his 30s, would be a lesser threat and at Tier 6 level. Canning couldn't possibly compete with Ollie's higher-tier abilities, he believed.
Ollie's confidence was at its peak. Tier 6, known as Intermediate Application/Specialization II, focused on more advanced techniques in a single element. A Tier 7 user like Ollie could wield even more potent powers, yet still retain the skills learned from Tier 6.
He felt certain of his victory.
As the crowd began to form a wide circle around the two, a fighting ring emerged. Canning stepped into the ring, leaving Annabeth at the edge.
"I'll be back soon," he said, and the crowd murmured in anticipation.
"Hope you said your goodbyes," Ollie taunted, seeing Canning whisper something to Annabeth earlier. He smirked, eager to take advantage of the situation.
Canning stood silently, his hands in his pockets, his expression unchanged. He didn't even bother to remove his clothing or adjust his stance.
Ollie's patience wore thin.
"You should have stayed quiet earlier… now it's too late for that!" he shouted, conjuring two fireballs in each hand. The flames crackled with intensity, filling the air with a crackling noise. With a touch of earth magic, he fused molten lava into the fireballs, the temperature rising drastically.
The crowd instinctively took several steps back to avoid the heat, but Ollie remained unaffected by the fire, his own magic protecting him.
Canning remained motionless, a calm presence in stark contrast to Ollie's fiery display.
Enough of this nonchalance, Ollie thought. He stretched his hands forward, ready to hurl the molten lava at Canning. At this range, no matter how Canning tried to dodge or teleport, Ollie was sure the lava would still burn him.
But as soon as the lava balls left Ollie's palms, they returned with shocking speed, spiraling back toward him. Before Ollie could react, the molten lava consumed his own hands. It spread quickly, engulfing his chest and legs. He screamed in agony as the flames intensified, but the pain was unbearable.
The crowd stood in stunned silence, unable to understand what had just happened. Ollie's screams grew louder but soon fell silent, replaced by the horrific crackling of his body burning. After two long minutes, all that remained of Lord Ollie was a pile of ash.
No ordinary magic would harm its caster, and yet that's exactly what had happened to Lord Ollie.
Canning, seemingly unbothered by the turn of events, turned and casually walked back toward Annabeth. When he reached her, he squatted to meet her gaze, smiling warmly despite the chaos.
"We were rudely interrupted earlier," he said, his voice calm. "I practice a special kind of Tier 7 magic. Want to come stay with me when this whole thing is over?"