The mother and son duo walked back to their home. Camille was a little worried that they were going to run into trouble, but as soon as they got to the noble district she let out a sigh of relief and equipped herself with her dampener again.
As the zone where the most influential people lived in the city, all violence was forbidden. Everyone above Tier Zero was required to conceal their power, less an accident was to occur. As compensation, the whole zone was protected by trained soldiers. Simply put, it was the safest part of one of the safest cities in the Empire.
Their street was full of enormous houses and manors, each more extravagant than the last. Rich people liked showing off, and none was more prideful than Liam Clades, Ciaran's dad. Their house wasn't the biggest; however, it was the showiest.
The enormous manor stands tall and proud at the end of a long, winding driveway, surrounded by lush gardens and towering trees. The estate is made of ancient, gray stone that looks like it has weathered centuries of storms and sun. The manor's turrets and spires reach toward the sky, giving the impression that it might be a castle rather than a house.
At the front gate of the manor, two imposing statues stand guard. The first is a massive whale, carved out of smooth, gray stone, with its mouth open wide as if it is about to swallow any unwelcome guests. The second statue is even more terrifying - a gigantic Kraken, its many tentacles curling around the gate posts and its eyes glowing with a sinister light.
As visitors pass through the gate, they are greeted by a wide, cobblestone path leading up to the manor's main entrance. The path is lined with lanterns that flicker in the wind, casting eerie shadows on the ground. As they approach the manor, they can see that it is even more impressive up close. The entrance is framed by two huge pillars, each one adorned with intricate carvings of dragons and other mythical creatures.
Before Liam became a merchant he had a successful career in the Marines, he had even been a Commander before retiring.
As they walked in, Ciaran was looking around for his dad. Most of the time he only got home late at night, but the man had this way of knowing when his son misbehaved at school. The boy wasn't sure how his father would react. He wasn't in the sport of beating obedience into his kid, but he had his ways of making Ciaran understand that his actions were wrong.
The last time the boy was punished, was because he was harassing his dad's secretary for information about the Desert. Liam then forced Ciaran to attend one of the local Nobel gatherings with him. It was a whole lot of talking, none of it from Ciaran, and to put a cherry on top the boy didn't even learn anything new. Of course, he didn't stop with one; the boy had to endure twelve such events. Safe to say Ciaran didn't even go near his dad's secretary from then on.
'Back then my old man said if I wanted to know about other countries so bad I first had to learn about my own, I wonder what his excuse for the torture will be this time.' Ciaran shivered. The boy really didn't want people to waste his time.
He looked around the whole house, but his dad simply wasn't there. A bad sign, if the experience was an indicator. His father was a busy man, but he placed family first, if he wasn't home, either something really important happened at work, or he was held up by people demanding Ciaran's punishment to be brutal.
Ciaran sat in the living room with one of the books from the study.
'Today may be the last opportunity for me to read in a long time.' Thought the boy. After all, what better punishment was there than depriving him of what he loved the most?
As he was reading, he heard the door burst open. They had guests.
'It can't be Dad. The man was driven, but he would be caught dead before he rushed into anything.'
" CAMI, WHERE IS HE? WHERE IS THE LITTLE GLORIOUS BASTARD?"
A shout that shook the whole house was heard. The next moment Ciaran's whole view was shaken, his world spun and he heard mad laughter.
"You little monkey you actually did it." The man said, slightly calmer, with a voice that had quieted down a bunch.
It was his grandfather. The man was a hulking brute, who very rarely showed any emotion to anyone. And now he had a shit-eating grin on his face while spinning his grandson around.
This charade continued for a few more minutes before the man put his grandson down.
The world was sinning for the boy, but when he took hold of himself he could see his grandpa clearly. He was smiling and had two palm prints on each side of his face.
'Very few people could put their hands on my grandfather. Less still have such small hands.' The boy observed.
"Hey, gramps, nice to see you too. Where is grandma."
A snort could be heard from the door.
"So the great infiltrator has time to look for his grandparents, does he? Are you sure you aren't busy planning your next heist, sir? " His grandma asked sarcastically.
"Don't worry granny, all plans have been completed months before. We can enjoy some family time now." He retorted with a smile.
If his grandfather taught him how to fight, and his father how to lead, then his mother thought him about the joys of science and math, and his grandmother how to put people in their place.
She demanded he sharpens his tongue. In this world of violence and intrigue, it may not be the most potent of weapons, but one needed to have it ready for whenever someone wanted to have a verbal showdown.
Their bonding usually consisted of vicious mockery and back-handed compliments. None of which was meant of course, but the boy was going to have contact with high society and he needed to be ready.
"Don't even joke about that Ciaran; you nearly gave this poor old woman a heart attack." She said.
If before Ciaran was intrigued by their visit, now he was worried. His grandfather didn't even bother to hide his emotions and his grandmother wasn't acting like he wasn't worth talking to.
'This is going to get really big, isn't it?'
"And you, you old goat, how can you praise him for this? He broke the law, committed high treason, AND BURNED HIS CLASSMATES ALIVE." The old woman was visibly angry at her husband.
"No, he set himself an impossible goal, led his man, and attained something he truly wanted. And his classmates are fine, from what I heard. No harm done, except to the pride of people as old as us." The old man said, as calmly as he could, the marks on his face still aching.
"Actually, my men were compromised before the operation was launched. Leek of intel. I had to make do with plan B, and use Clara's sleeper agents." Ciaran corrected.
"You both are going to be the death of me." Edith Clades said and pinched the bridge of her nose.
"I am going to talk to Camille, do not follow. We will talk at dinner when Liam comes back. I need a little time away from you two."
She left the duo and went in search of her daughter-in-law.
She found her in her study checking some documents lost in thought.
"How are you holding up Cami?"The old woman asked.
"If I have to be honest a little hurt. I know Ciaran wanted to do this alone, but he could have asked for help. His formula is all wrong. It got the job done, but he had to include the chili. It's amateurish at best. Had he asked I could have made it so his 'cold flames' actually felt like flames, and left no marks on the kids. Would have lessened the punishment."
She looked at the old woman, whose jaw was about to hit the floor.
"Naturally I am proud of his achievement with chemistry, and I love his drive to be independent." She added quickly.
"Between you, Liam, and Drills for brains, I don't know who is a worse influence on the boy." The old woman sighed.
"Didn't you insist that he needed to learn how to control his emotions, so he could manipulate people better?" Camille smiled and raised her eyebrow.
"So, how has work been dear?" Edith refused to answer and changed the subject.
Back In the living room, the conversation between was just as lively.
"So what did you find at level two. Anything worth noting?"
"Officially, I was there to check on the economics section on Floor One. Unofficially I will tell you at dinner, better make it an announcement."
"You get that drama thirst from your dad, boy," The Colonel said while clicking his tongue in distaste. He, however, did not miss how his grandson corrected him on the terminology of the Library. It was bound to be a hectic diner at the Clades'.