~~~(Jared)~~~

Jeez, it's hot out here. Summer came early this year. It feels like it was just last week when we got hit with a massive snowstorm.

Oh, wait…

It was.

And now, it's a hundred and ten.

So what did our physical training instructors do? They moved us outside. They split our unit up into three groups, one of ten, and two of forty. Then, they had the group of ten tie dark blue ribbons around their upper right arm, and one group of forty tie dark green ribbons in the same spot. The other group of forty had to strip off their shirts and training undershirts.

I'm not sure if I should envy the team that gets to run around wearing just their PT shorts and sneakers, or feel sorry for them. On one hand, they'll probably be cooler, on the other, most of them are guaranteed sunburn, even with sunblock on.

I say 'most' because I doubt sunburn will bother Caleb, since he knows how to use magic to resist it.

The instructors playing with simmunition. That is, paintballs that hurt like hell when they hit someone, much more than normal paintballs.

The skins had no weapons, and their mission was to capture each of the ten dark blue ribbons. Not even close to being as simple as it sounds, when it's fifty against forty, the fifty have weapons that hurt like hell, all of them have Abilities and aura, and Caleb's on the skins team.

He was told that he wasn't allowed to use his Ability for this, and he just shrugged, as if to say 'figures'.

Ever since he reverted back from being a kid, he's not been as quiet and aloof as usual, though he's still heavily like that. He isn't reserved about fighting or using his Ability anymore, though.

And his words before we started the game somewhat distracted me.

"Someone messed with reality. Our past isn't what actually happened. However they did it, that's what happened, now."

It distracted me a lot during the game, enough for me to get hit a few times by the simmunition when some of the skins managed to disarm people. No lethal or damaging force allowed to be used – the blues were to represent 'brainwashed' allies of the skins.

There was supposedly a dark red ribbon somewhere, but I have no idea who had it. The dark red ribbon was the one behind the brainwashing.

Now, we're resting up. I'm grateful for having the undershirt on – it shielded my torso from the impacts. Mostly. Only the first couple will leave bruises, as I triggered my aura after, and was fine from then on.

All of the skins have bruises already showing on them, and lots. They all got taken out, except for Caleb. No matter how many times he got hit, he kept going, and never did take a gun. He knocked out quite a few of the greens and most of the blues.

Actually, he's the one who captured all of the blues. It's been so long since we've had a real practical training that everyone forgot to use their auras in combat training. Most of my team is sore, too.

Caleb's currently getting a drink of water, and as he bends over to pour some from the jug, a small sphere of water forms above his head, roughly the size of a pea. It rapidly increases in size, until it's about twice the size of a basketball.

Then, it drops, splashing down on Caleb and soaking him with water. He straightens and puts the cup to his mouth, as if he hadn't even noticed it, and I look at Brooks.

"That was magical water," Brooks says. "Not Superhuman water. He made that himself."

I snort.

Of course he did. Because Caleb can't cool off the normal way, and just pour regular water over himself.

Nor can Brooks, apparently, who decided that actually looked like a good idea, and is now making his own sphere of water. It splashes over him, and I roll my eyes.

"What?" He asks. "It's a quick way to cool off. I don't handle heat too well, you know that. It's Flame that likes it."

That's right – Brooks' Ability isn't primarily water, but ice. He prefers the cold. Unlike a certain Creator-slash-magician who most definitely is not drinking water.

"Caleb?" I approach him. "Are you converting your water into lemonade?"

"No," he gives me an innocent look, and I stare at him, then twist the top off the jug and look inside.

"You converted everyone's water into lemonade."

"Technically," Caleb says. "I mixed it into lemonade."

When did he mix it into lemonade? He is saying he used powder or something?

I sigh and shake my head, then put the lid back on the jug and find a spot in the shade to cool off in.

I try to focus on cooling off and memorizing the combat techniques we were taught yesterday and the strategy lessons we had this morning, but Caleb's words come back to me.

"Someone messed with reality. Our past isn't what actually happened. However they did it, that's what happened, now."

What did he mean by that? In even the oldest of records, no Time Superhuman or Time Magician could affect the past – they could only touch the present or look through time. They could alter its flow, but not go back or touch back or turn it back or anything like that.

So how could someone mess with reality and affect the past? They had to have. Could it be something like Teacher or the Sage that did it? Or something even older and more powerful?

If so, what are the differences that were made?

"Question for you," Brooks sits down beside me, leaning his back against the tree I'm against. None of the other cadets have come this way yet, which tells me what his next question might be, before he says it. "Did Caleb give you some weird message this morning?"

"Yeah," I answer. "I can't figure out what the fuck he meant by it."

"Because he probably told us different things," Brooks says. "Which probably need put together to understand. I'm going to say what he said to me."

That's right – it's totally like him to just tell us different things, that may or may not have entirely different themes to them. In fact, that's likely what he did.

"What he told me," Brooks says. "Was 'someone messed with reality. Our past isn't what actually happened. However they did it, that's what happened, now.' I can't figure out how any of that makes sense."

"He told you," I say. "The same thing he told me, word-for-word. I have no fucking clue what that means. Everything he says is impossible, and yet, it's Caleb. Nothing is impossible, where it concerns him."

Brooks doesn't respond to that. He knows it's true. Until we met our powerful Creator and leader, there was a lot we thought impossible that he can do with ease, or knows someone who can. The son of the Sage, and student of the son of a Dragon of Creation…

Dragon of Creation?

What the hell is that?

I remember Caleb mentioning them, but I can't remember anything about them. What did he say about them?

"I spoke with Flame, during breakfast," Brooks tells me. "Asked him again about what happened to his Ability, and how that happened. He still won't budge on telling me what happened in that warehouse."

"Same with Owen," I nod. "Neither of us will say how he stopped being a Superhuman and became such a powerful magician. That much power… and his ability with it. It's not normal. And the fact that his arm's gone, and Caleb says that the method through which it was removed makes it impossible to restore… I really, really want to know what happened."

"Alright, cadets!" The Major in charge of training yells. "Weighted packs! We're going for a jog!"

A few of the cadets groan, but we all head inside, the skins getting their shirts back on, and grab the weighted packs from the gym, pulling them on and meeting him back outside. The packs weigh around twenty pounds each. Not a lot of weight, right?

Wrong.

After five minutes of jogging, it feels a lot heavier. They will run us for more than an hour. This is usually a punishment of some form, and I really want to know who caused it this time. I'm going to beat the crap out of them.

~~~(Flame)~~~

"Hey, Hansen!" A voice calls, and I turn to face the speaker. A cadet a year my senior. "Wait up!"

I stop walking and wait for him to reach me.

He's dressed in formals right now, causing me to wonder if I did something wrong. It's hard to get kicked out of the GMDF's training, because of how lax it is and how easy it is to earn the points needed to pass.

"You gonna talk?" I ask. "Or just stare at me? I was on my way to go answer another foolish duel request."

This is starting to annoy me. This is my fifteenth duel. In the six days since we returned to the city after rescuing Caleb. My memory is somewhat foggy on the incident, and how Caleb reverted back to his actual self, other than he did and saved butt.

I still can't get past that mysterious kid who I originally mistook as Caleb. But that one had violet eyes and the labyrinths visible in them at all times, even when he wasn't using magic or creating a Reality, and Caleb doesn't have that mark on his chest.

The mark in the original draconic language for magic. Now that I have as much knowledge and understand of magic as I do, I can understand that language on a decent level, even without Caleb's help.

He still knows a lot more than I do, though, so I'm still going to ask him to help me with more of it. I could barely understand the rest of that rune, bringer. It was denoting that being as the 'Bringer of Magic', if Caleb's comment about how dragons' true names are representative of what they are or what they'll do in life.

"About that," he says, and I realize that he wants to challenge me, too. "Some friends and I were wondering if we could challenge you as a team? We've been practicing some of the magics you gave the instructors, and think we can do it."

Magics I gave the instructors? I don't remember doing that. Then again, I probably did do it. It's not like I'd give them any spells that could actually hurt me. I have to be careful, Caleb told me, with what magics I share with them. It was probably basic combat or defensive magics.

Tailored to their misuse of the language of magic. Or rather, correcting it a bit. I'm not going to stand for that butchery.

So maybe I did give them some spells. Did I give them the explanations for why they're idiots and how to make spells more efficient?

Guess I'll see against him.

"Sure," I say. "Unless you're busy, be ready in Phoenix 2 when my match is done."

"Busy?" He asks, and I gesture to his uniform. "Oh, that. I have to go on a mission next week, just came from the briefing. I'll let them know, but won't you need to rest, first?"

"The only magician in the city," I say. "Who could make me rest between fights probably wouldn't care for something like this, and he's not in the GMDF."

"Caleb?" He asks.

"Be ready when I'm done," I tell him. "I can handle several group fights in a row."

He nods, then leaves, and I continue making my way to the dueling arena. It's packed with cadets and staff, and more are still arriving. The novelty of fighting someone as powerful as me still hasn't worn off yet, but this is a bigger crowd than any of my previous fights, and it has been getting smaller. No one likes having someone just overpower everyone else instantly.

The other cadet's group must have expected me to want to fight after, so people are coming to watch them fight against me with my own magics.

Well, not literally my own, just the same style of magic I use. With incantations and gestures and stuff I don't have need of doing, not with my understanding of magic.

Oh, right. New cadets showed up today, I think. Or last week? When did they get off vacation? This batch probably wanted to see the fight. I see a lot of faces I haven't seen before in here, a lot of new cadets, fresh out of basic.

I can tell which ones they are, because they're all wearing the proper uniform, while the rest of us are, more or less, in casual clothes.

I'm about to head to the entrance to the pit when I spot him. Or rather, sense him, then see him, the dragon within me calling out to his silent, dormant one.

Caleb's here, in uniform, to watch me. The moment I see him, he waves at me, then points behind me. As he does, the dragon within me tenses up, roaring, desiring to exert dominance over a dragon nearby. It's not an ally, or the dragon would just call out to them. It's someone new, an intruder.

Dormant dragons, it ignores. They're no concern to us.

I can't sense this dragon, though. What is mine roaring at, trying to chase away and tell that I'm the superior?

Turning, I come face-to-face with a boy around ten years old. No. He'd have to be twelve, minimum. Twelve years and a hundred or so days. Can't start basic until at least the twelfth birthday.

He's got silver hair, though I know he's not from my village, as I've never seen him before. He also has very pale skin, as if he doesn't stand out in the sun much, which is odd, since he should be tanned from basic. Or rather, his face, arms, and legs should be, though his face – the only part I can see – isn't.

He's slender in build, but has a layer of muscle only found in the GMDF agents and cadets who work out, his build more lean that buff, mirroring my own. I cannot sense or smell him at all. The smell thing could be attributed to so many scents filling my nostrils, but his proximity to me should make it easy to distinguish his.

And yet, I can't.

Like the other fresh cadets, he's dressed in the proper uniform – a dark blue buttonup, over which is worn a dark blue jacket with the facility logo on it and his rank on his sleeves, a Private, like all who completed Basic. He also has on the dark blue slacks and black combat boots of the uniform.

Unlike the other cadets, who cut their hair short to cut down on washing time during basic, which was apparently the same for both facilities, he let his stay, a medium-long length, just long enough for his bangs to brush against the blindfold around his eyes.

He is, without a doubt, the reason Caleb was pointing behind me. I cannot sense a dragon within him at all, nor magic, and yet my dragon is reacting to him. This kid definitely knows about his dragon, and probably knows about mine, too. He's also concealing his presence to the point that my draconic senses cannot pick up on it.

Please tell me he's not another draconic being, like the one who gave me the gift, when kid-Caleb was kidnapped. One disaster is all I want to deal with right now.

"Meyers?" I read the name off his jacket.

"Yes?"

"Can you see, with the blindfold on?"

"I can't with it off," he shrugs. "I lost my sight a few years ago. I can still navigate, though. My magic allows me that much, as well as my ability to sense magic, even when I don't use the way I see to see. Can you settle your dragon? It's bothering me a little bit."

He can sense my dragon roaring at him? Does he actually have a dragon within, then?

I close my eyes and focus on the dragon, willing it to calm down. During the merger of our powers, I can sense what it is about the boy that's unsettling it.

It only knew of him because of the way people around were reacting, the emptiness in their space. To the dragon within, the warmth of the air still fills that space, as if there's no one there, and yet the people around are giving him curious looking or whispering about him. It knew of him because of the others, not because of the boy himself.

"I'm Flame," I tell him once the dragon settles down, though is still uneasy by this foe it cannot see or sense.

"Mukura," he answers as another cadet walks up, a boy around my age with dark orange hair and bright green eyes, and the same last name. He has a splash of freckles across his cheeks "This is my brother, Holden. He prefers studying and using defensive magics."

"Kura," Holden says. "Stop annoying the other cadets. How did you even end up over here in the first place?"

"It's fine," I say. "We were just chatting."

"Sorry about him," Holden puts a hand on his brother's shoulder. "He only got in because he has some slight magical talent that they don't normally see. He isn't going to be a field agent, just an analyst. He's good at reading magic. The others make fun of him, though, and we got separated while we were walking here. It isn't the first time someone's separated us."

"It's alright," I say, then look at Mukura. "I'm actually the one who's here to fight – the powerful one that everyone came to see. I've got this match, and another after it. I'll be able to fight again immediately after, though I want to take a fifteen minute rest after, so I can recover a little bit of magic. If you want to fight, be ready then."

"Okay," Mukura nods.

"Fight?" Holden gives his brother a disapproving look. "You're not a combatant, Kura. You're going to get beaten."

"I want to fight him," Kura says as his brother leads him away.

I make my way into the arena, and the other cadet enters. We give each other a bow, then the fight begins. He tries to blast me with water, the power behind it only slightly correct. I disconnect him from the spell, take control over it, correct it, and blast it back at him, throwing him into the wall.

Easy. As usual.

The group comes in next, five cadets, each with similar levels of power. They manipulate air and stone together, their magics a lot more efficient than what I've been facing before, their words of magic actually correct.

Guess I did give the staff some.

They still aren't difficult to stop, binding them with silencing spells. Most magicians need to use words to cast magics, and once they stop incanting, the spells fade. The five of them disabled, I send them flying into the back wall with a blast of magic.

I take the fifteen minute breather in the changing room, and when I return to the arena, it's even more packed, if possible. Caleb's at the edge of it, staring through the magical barrier, watching intently as the silver-haired newbie enters the arena. Are all of the new cadets here, now? There are a lot more older cadets as well.

The bell sounds, and the boy stands there, waiting. He wants me to strike first. I don't bite the bait, though, and we stare at each other.

Well, I stare at him, and he just stands there, facing me. The crowd goes silent, and Caleb continues to watch intently. He probably knows exactly what kind of magic the newbie can use. There's no doubt in my mind that the kid's way of hiding himself doesn't work on Caleb, with his Passive Territory.

If he's using it, anyway. Caleb seems to have gained the ability to control whether or not he does. Or at least, whether or not he's in peoples' heads, at least.

Something happens. I'm not sure what it is, but it does. My dragon reacted to it. Caleb's neutral expression now has a small smirk on it.

What just happened?

The dragon in me roars, yelling at Mukura to flee, and I realize something.

It's wounded. From right leg. I look down at my arm, and see a cut on it. Then the pain registers in my brain.

How did he wound me? My body is naturally resilient to physical and magical hits, because of what it is. Even sharp blades would be hard-pressed to pierce a dragon's skin.

Looking back at the boy, I'm about to open my mouth to ask when the dragon roars again. A second cut, this one on my right leg. That one, I processed immediately. It's bigger, and hurts a lot more than the first, which was as bad as a papercut.

I lift my right hand, and flames swirl around it, then blast at the boy. They vanish in front of him.

"Reflect," his voice rings out through the arena, though only three people here understand the word he said.

Him, if he does, me, and Caleb.

The draconic language of magic.

A shimmering, silvery disc forms in the air in front of him, reflecting my image.

"Amplify," he says, his voice ringing out again, the arena silent. "Release."

A swirling blast of flames explodes out of the mirror, aimed right at me. I summon a barrier to protect myself, constructing several stronger ones behind it when it breaks through it. He increased its power heavily.

It was ten times as strong as it was when he absorbed it, or whatever it was he did. That was definitely my magic, though.

He reflected my magic back at me.

Every attempt to hit him after is met with the same thing – the magic vanished, then him summoning a mirror, strengthening my attack, and sending it back at me. Every now and then, a random cut appears on my body, ignoring my clothes entirely.

My attempts to disrupt his reflection of my magics fail miserably, too. He turns it back on me, just like he does my attacks. He doesn't have to speak, but he can do it a lot stronger if he does. I resort to using words of magic, to shape and strengthen my spells, and yet he still manages to evade every one of my attacks.

The only ones of his that actually hit me are whatever it is he's doing that's cutting my skin, but they're only flesh wounds, nothing deep. The first ones are already healed up, and it's only been a few minutes since we began the fight.

The crowd is dead-silent, now.

I'm staring at Mukura, trying to figure out how to hurt him. Every thirty seconds, a new cut appears on me. None ever go past the skin, though the length and width vary. The larger the surface it's on, the bigger the wound.

Just how is he doing that?

With Caleb here, I know I don't have to worry about holding back. He's already strengthened the arena for our fight, which confirmed to me that he can sense this kid's actual power level. The barrier can hold me and all of my draconic glory.

In other words, I'll need to use my draconic powers against this kid.

With that in mind, I summon the dragon within, feeling my body grow tougher, stronger, more resilient, more powerful, my power beginning to radiate around me as my senses sharpen and magic flows through my vision, a roar breaking through my lips as the onlookers recoil and flinch in fear.

The kid remains unbothered by my shift in power, his expression neutral.

Then, he smiles.

"Finally," he says. "I can go all-out without fear of actually killing you."

What?

His body shifts, ever so subtly. I can sense the shift under his clothes, despite not seeing it. His muscles becoming denser, more powerful, his skin becoming tougher, more resilient. His face changes every-so-slightly, looking just a tad less human, and a tad more draconic. His smile widens, his teeth showing, his canines a little longer and sharper than a human's ought to be.

He's another of draconic heritage, and has at least twenty-percent of him of draconic blood.

The blindfold falls off his face, untied by some unsensed force, revealing his silver eyes. When I look into them, seeing my terrifying reflection, I know that he truly is blind. He cannot see a single thing with those eyes.

He sacrificed his vision.

Just like I did with my arm.

"We are kin," his words from earlier return to me.

He's suffered the same pain I have. He knows true magic. He was a Superhuman whose power was released. One who dealt with mirrors, no doubt.

A piece of knowledge comes to me. An old language, from before the Calamity. Indian? Sanskrit? The name he bears… it means 'mirror'. His silver hair and sightless, silver eyes, his name. He was definitely a Superhuman who dealt with mirrors before that happened.

Before he became a being greater than a normal human with draconic heritage – one who has an immense amount of power and understanding of magic.

That is why he is able to handle my power so easily. He is no ordinary magician.

I launch myself forward, snarling, flames swirling around me. If he can absorb my power, then overwhelm it. Force him to take in more than he can handle, and-

He's not there. I flew right through him, stumbling from the failed contact I expected. I catch myself, spinning and letting out a roar, more flames bursting forth to hit where he looked to be standing… only to pass through as if they weren't there.

I can't sense him at all, and have to rely on my sight. To make things worse, his cuts are cutting deeper, now, going into my meat. I'm healing faster, but it's still annoying, and it still angers me that I can't stop it, even clad in aura.

Every spell I use on the kid fails. It either passes through him, or he simply disappears entirely, appearing somewhere else in the arena. He's not teleporting, though. What the hell is he doing?

I unleash a ball of fire, throwing it at the center of the arena, and it explodes there, turning into a swirling mass of flames that consume everything in their path. My flames suddenly begin absorbing in several areas, but I continue to pour it on, letting them flood the arena.

I don't care that it's destroyed my magic-resistant clothes – I can reconstruct them after this is over. I don't care that it's beginning to burn my skin, which is impervious to all but the hottest heats, making my cuts hurt even more, cauterizing them instantly.

As long as I beat him, that is fine. Overwhelm his ability to absorb my flames, and win the fight. The barrier here will prevent him from dying, kicking him out of the arena as soon as he 'dies' within it.

Mukura lets out a yell of pain just as I'm starting to lose hold over the spell, exerting myself too much with it. Once the flames fade, I see him rolling around on the ground, his uniform incinerated by the power of my spell.

His skin – much like mine – is already healing, the charred coloration fading to a pale pink.

He continues to roll around, though. That must have hurt him a lot. Crap. Did I go overboard trying to beat him? His hands are over his eyes. Did I do something to them? They must have been really sensitive, after what he went through. I know my 'stump', which isn't even a stump at all, just where my arm once connected to the rest of me used to rest, is sensitive to magical damage.

Caleb made me all-too aware of that, a few days ago. He poked it while his finger was clad in magic, and it flared up in a way that the rest of my body didn't when he poked me all over.

I start to walk over to him, and he starts to calm down. My dragon is cautious, hesitant. Why?

Once I'm standing in front of him, my dragon roars for me to jump back, and I do, several times, until I'm on the other side of the arena as the boy.

That was painful. My body hurts like hell from his cuts and my flames, and I moved much too fast for my healing body.

I stare at the boy, who continues to scream from pain. He heals faster than I do, and only calms down once all visible signs of damage are gone. His brother's screaming from outside, looking panicked, but can't get in. The match isn't over yet.

With no clue what to do, the boy still lying on the ground, I look at Caleb, who just points back to my opponent.

When I look at Mukura, he starts to stand up, light shimmering around his body, clothes forming. I reconstruct the sleeveless, shorts, and sneakers I was wearing before, while the boy reconstructed his uniform and blindfold.

The injuries he hit me with that had yet to heal before I burst the flames left scars, probably because of what happened. They'll probably fade with time, but after the scar on my arm and the scar on my chest and back, they don't bother me too much.

And yet the fact that someone other than Caleb did this to me bothers me. A lot.

A pair of familiar presences enter the arena, newcomers here to watch the duel still going on. Dragons my own calls out to in friendly greeting. Brooks and Jared.

I definitely can't lose now. I mean, I definitely couldn't before, because of Caleb's presence, but losing in front of the rest of our surviving team?

I definitely can't do that.

I'm about to cast another spell when I find myself unable to move. The boy didn't do anything. Well, he's adjusted his blindfold, so that it's under his bangs, not resting on them, but that's about it. I try to manipulate the ground around him, to turn it into quicksand, and the ground under me turns to quicksand instead.

I harden it as I sink within, only it doesn't harden. But the ground under him does…

What the hell? Focusing on the ground under him, I harden it, and find the quicksand hardened as well. I then push as much as I can, rising out of the ground with my magic, so that I'm standing on it once more. I freeze the ground around me, intending to freeze his feet to the ground, but freeze myself instead.

After several more tests, I determine that he's hitting me with anything that he can't ignore, and the stuff he can, he redirects elsewhere into the arena.

I flick my eyes to where my team is standing, along with Owen.

I'm taking a page out of your book, you electricity-crazy maniac.

Instead of filling the space with fire, I allow my magic to radiate out of me, taking on the form of sparks of electricity. This won't be as damaging to Mukura, if he can't redirect it around him. Which he probably can't, since I'm filling the arena with it.

The sparks fill the air, crackling around and dancing off of each other, forming a three-dimensional spiderweb of electricity.

When it reaches Mukura, the sparks dance across his skin, yet I sense them not damaging him at all. In fact, his uniform looks wholly and entirely unbothered by them, despite being mundane and not resistant to magic, like my own outfit.

My skin itches, and when I look down, I see something strange. Small marks on my arm. Every time a spot itches, a new dot formed, almost like… a burn.

Watching him, I realize that every time a spark touches his skin, a mark forms on me to mirror it.

The kid is somehow mirroring the magic onto me, making it hurt me instead of him. Just what the hell can I do to stop him?

In addition to this, those damn cuts keep forming, though they aren't as bad, now. He switched out of draconic form when he was overwhelmed by the flames. I'm running out of steam now, though. Almost out of magic. He can't have too much left, either, with how much he's been using to combat me and redirect my spells.

As my body kicks out of draconic mode, returning normal, something slams into my chest, throwing me back. The dragon within reacts, telling me to move, and I do, but not fast enough. Too tired, too exhausted to dodge the bolt of lightning dropping down.

Then, I appear in the changing rooms, out of breath and soaked in sweat.

I lost.

I lost to him.

Someone other than Caleb bested me in a fight.

I need to get stronger.

So sore.

I lie down on one of the benches to recover. That fight drained nearly all of my magic from me, and just wore me out so much. That kid is good.

Did he learn from Teacher, too?

The team and Owen locate me in here, Caleb dropping a sphere of water on me, Flame, Brooks, and Owen giving him a funny look when he does that.

"Why'd you do that?" I ask.

"You looked like you needed cooling off," he answers as I dry my clothes. "Your body temperature went up because of your exertion, and you were sweating. If you're not going to go take a shower immediately, you should let the water continue to soak you, so you cool off. Sweat helps you cool off."

He's telling someone who lives for fire and swims in lava that he needs to cool off. He does know who he's talking to, doesn't he?

"That doesn't matter," Caleb says. "Your body is still very much mortal, and if you're sweating, you need to cool off. Usually. Definitely in this case. Your body overheated. It's a different type of heat than a volcano."

So he was in my head.

"Of course I was," he says. "You certainly weren't talking."

He's in a talkative mood… I don't remember him ever talking this much. For any reason.

"I didn't know there was someone who could actually compete with Flame," Brooks says. "That match… the level of magic just radiating off of Flame, and that kid was able to easily counter it. I'd think he was some sort of Superhuman who could deal with mirror or something, because the ones the video you showed us had in them, but he's just a magician, right?"

"Yeah," Caleb nods.

"Is he human?"

"A little less so than Flame."

A little less than me?

"I couldn't sense him at all," Jared says. "My dragon was very, very agitated by his presence – or rather, his lack of. How did he do that?"

"It's part of my magic," Mukura says, and we all look to him and his brother, who just entered the changing rooms. "I'm able to reflect it, sort of. I turn it back inwards, effectively making it impossible to sense. Mentor definitely can, though."

"Hey, Caleb," Holden greets him. "Been what, a year?"

"Hey, Holden," Caleb nods to him.

They know each other?

"You know each other?" Jared asks, sound almost hostile. Could he be jealous? "How?"

"We grew up together," Holden asks. "The orphanage Caleb lived in was in the same neighborhood we lived in. Though I don't think I've heard Caleb talk before. I guess becoming an agent really does change people."

"What do you mean?" Mukura asks. "Caleb talked all the time, before."

"No, he didn't," Holden says. "You never talked with him, anyway."

"We talked," Caleb says.

"We did more than talk!" Mukura says. "You taught me how to harness my magic even more after I lost my sight!"

…

He's had years of mentorship under Caleb on me. No wonder he could best me.

Wait.

Caleb's had a student of his own? Even while he was learning under Teacher? Does Teacher know about this? If so, why did he let Caleb train him?

Unless…

This kid was invisible to Teacher's perceptions. But how? Teacher can see more than Caleb, can't he? This is so confusing for me.

~~~(???)~~~

"Teacher!" The Scribe tackles me after I knock on the door. "What brings you back so soon? It's only been a week out there!"

"Are you keeping tabs on me?"

"Maaaabye!"

I roll my eyes, then ask if I may enter. She grants permission, and I follow her in. She asks about what I've been up to.

"Do you know a boy named Mukura Meyers?"

"The former Reflect Gifted?" She asks. "Yeah, I saw him when I was doing the rewrites. Caleb taught him magic, after his lessons with you. The boy received his power much in the same way as Flame did."

"Same source?"

"Nikvar Nomari?" She asks. "Yeah, your son gave it to him, I think. Circumstances match up – he was in dire need of saving, and then some being I can't detect pierced his chest the way your kind can do, taking his sight in exchange for understanding and knowledge of magic. He reached the same level of it Flame did, though with your son's mentorship, he's a fair bit stronger than him. How did you find out?"

"Flame and Mukura dueled before I came here," I explain, and she raises an eyebrow. "They're both in the GMDF."

"Ah, right," she nods. "Kura was going through basic when you came to me for the changes. He's mostly the same as before. The only real difference to him is the color of his blindfold, I think. It was white before, but it's silver, now, to match his hair and eyes. Well, it's more metallic silver than a mirror silver, but it's all the same, for the end. So they dueled? How'd it go?"

"Meyers won," I answer. "Obviously. Flame never stood a chance, though he did nearly take the younger boy out once. They both woke up their dragons and summoned the powers of them for the duel – that's what caught my attention. Two draconic forces suddenly appearing, and in battle, isn't hard to notice. All of the dragons remaining on Earth caught it, actually. It took me so long to come to you after because I had to calm them down. Most didn't know me, and forced me to take on my true form and exert dominance."

She grimaces at that. A dragon exerting dominance is a violet, bloody affair. It is more than a show of superior might – it is a show that we truly believe they are beneath us. The power to wound the lesser with but a thought, so long as we are in combat, even if we are yet to fight.

So long as the hostilities between both sides exists, the wounds will continue, hitting at random. Mukura used this against Flame, showing that he truly believed he was the superior, and that Flame was lesser to him.

Now that he knows that Flame learns from Caleb as well, I wonder how powerful the effect will be. The fight has shown him that he's truly superior to Flame, but Flame also did quite a number to him, figuring out a way to overwhelm his Contain spell.

That son of mine proves more troublesome every time I learn something new about him. The other aspects of Meyers' magic, he'd have known instinctively from his Ability, but that Contain spell… neither Flame nor Mukura should've been able to figure it out on their own. Caleb definitely taught him it.

"And before you ask," she says. "Altering anything to do with him is about as easy as it is for Caleb and Flame. Well, more than Caleb, but less than Flame. Not much would change unless I went massive."

"That's fine," I tell her. "I just wanted to know if you knew about him, and what you did know. He's somehow able to conceal his presence – I couldn't actually sense his dragon, but was still aware of it."

"Reflections," she answers. "He's got an interesting power, which is probably why Nikvar did that, when he saved him. He hasn't aged since then, though, and it's been three years. He's twelve, despite his looks."

Flame will likely discover soon that he, too, has stopped aging. At least he looks a little older – nearly fourteen, like he is – but it could still pose problems, later in life.

I thank the Scribe for the knowledge, then begin the journey out of the Temple.

My own student had his own student, and I didn't know about it. The Scribe likely assumed I did, and didn't mention Mukura because of that, when I was here for the changes. This isn't as big of a deal, but it does explain some of the odd questions Caleb occasionally had during our sessions, before I sent him to the GSDF.

And I was so concerned for his ability to defend himself, back then, too. Had he a lack of his reluctance to fight, that boy would never have needed to leave town. A lot of what's going on would never have happened, and the rewrite wouldn't have been necessary.

Just how much did Caleb do or was able to do back then that I don't know about?

Caleb concealed the existence of this boy quite well. He never indicated the boy's existence. Does this have to do with him being in multiple timelines or realities or whatever at a time?

"Hey!" A voice calls out, and I look over to see a woman not far from me, down a tunnel I was just passing. "A kid got stuck in here? How did you even get here? Do you want to walk with me? I'm trying to get out of this place. I'm sure-"

"I know the way out," I smile at her. "And your intentions are bare through your false expression. You can't fool me."

"I'm… sorry?" She asks.

"You're a namrini," I say. "A type of witch who specializes in consuming children to enhance their powers. Unfortunately for you, I'm not a child. I'm an ancient dragon older than probably any being you've ever come across."

"A dragon?" She snorts. "I'm not sure what fluff you've been eating, but-"

Her words cut off as I ignore the Temple's powers and take on a smaller version of my true form, scaled down to fit within the halls.

"I'm normally a lot bigger than this," my voice booms through the Temple, the deep, ancient sound instilling terror into all whose ears it reach, save for the Scribe's. "But I can't take on my full size here, or I'd break the place. As it is, I'm somewhat hungry, and you've got a fair amount of meat on your body. It won't fill me all the way, but it'll satisfy me until I'm out of here."