The Gentleman's Agony

The Vane Academy occupied what had once been the old Proxy barracks—a deliberate choice by Elara when she'd founded it twelve years ago. Where Proxies had once been warehoused like tools, students now learned in bright classrooms filled with books, magical instruments, and the constant hum of collaborative magic.

Kael Thorne stood in the Academy's central courtyard, watching his students practice bond formations. At twenty-three, he was one of the youngest instructors in the Academy's history, but his lineage gave him credibility that age couldn't—his father, Marcus Thorne, had been part of the first Shared Bond pilot program. Kael had literally grown up in the new system, never knowing the brutality of the old ways except through stories.

"Focus, Ren!" he called out to a lanky boy struggling to maintain his connection with his bonded partner. "You're trying to control the flow instead of guiding it. The bond is a conversation, not a command."

Ren Ashford—Lyra's younger brother—grimaced but adjusted his approach. The magical connection between him and his partner, a noble girl named Sera Blackwood, stabilized and began to glow with a steady blue light.

"Better," Kael said, moving among the pairs of students. "Remember, the Shared Bond only works when both parties contribute equally. The moment one person tries to dominate, the whole thing falls apart."

"Like a marriage," quipped Mira Voss, Captain Helena's daughter, earning laughs from the other students.

"Exactly like a marriage." Kael grinned. "Which is why communication is everything. Sera, what are you feeling from Ren right now?"

Sera closed her eyes, concentrating. "Frustration. Determination. And... worry? Something's bothering him."

"Because something's bothering everyone." Ren opened his eyes, the bond flickering. "My sister came back from the anniversary celebration early. She said there was an attack. That Valdris is invading."

The courtyard fell silent. Kael felt the shift in atmosphere, the way fear rippled through the young students. They'd grown up in peace, trained for a world where Proxies and nobles worked together. The concept of war was abstract to them, something from history books.

"It's true," Kael confirmed, seeing no point in hiding it. "Valdris attacked Fort Meridian three days ago. The Queen is mobilizing our defenses."

"Will we have to fight?" asked a small voice. Lily Chen, barely sixteen, one of the youngest students in the advanced program.

"I don't know," Kael said honestly. "But I know this—everything you're learning here, every skill you're developing, it matters now more than ever. The Shared Bond system isn't just about being more humane. It's about being stronger together than we could ever be apart."

"But what if Valdris has found a way to break the bonds?" Mira's question was sharp, intelligent. She had her mother's tactical mind. "What if all our training is useless?"

Before Kael could answer, a familiar voice spoke from the courtyard entrance. "Then we adapt."

Marcus Thorne walked into the courtyard, and Kael felt a familiar mix of pride and pressure. His father had aged well, though the silver in his hair and the scars on his hands told the story of a life spent bridging two eras of magic.

"Professor Thorne," the students chorused, straightening to attention.

"At ease." Marcus moved to stand beside Kael, his eyes scanning the assembled students with the same assessing look Kael remembered from childhood. "I'm here to talk to you about the old system. About what it was like before the reforms."

A ripple of interest moved through the students. The old system was legendary, spoken of in hushed tones, but few of them had ever heard firsthand accounts.

"I was fourteen when I became a Proxy," Marcus began, his voice steady but heavy with memory. "Sold by my parents to pay their debts. I was bonded to Lord Pemberton—yes, the same Lord Pemberton who now advocates for Proxy rights. But back then, he was young, careless, and he used magic the way you might use water. Constantly. Thoughtlessly."

Marcus rolled up his sleeve, revealing scars that crisscrossed his forearm. "Every spell he cast, I felt. Every bit of magical cost, I absorbed. There was no sharing, no partnership. Just pain. Constant, grinding pain that never quite went away."

Lily looked like she might be sick. "How did you survive?"

"Barely." Marcus's smile was grim. "Most Proxies didn't. The mortality rate was over sixty percent in the first five years of service. I survived because I was stubborn, and because I got lucky. Lord Pemberton was chosen for the pilot program, and everything changed."

"But why are you telling us this?" Ren asked. "The old system is gone. We'll never have to live like that."

"Because Valdris still uses the old system." Kael spoke up, understanding where his father was going. "And if we're going to fight them, we need to understand how they think. How they use magic."

"More than that." Marcus's expression grew serious. "The war council is considering temporarily reverting to old-style bonds for combat situations. One-directional flows that are harder for Valdris to break."

The courtyard erupted in shocked murmurs. Kael felt his own stomach drop. Reverting to the old system, even temporarily, went against everything the Academy taught.

"That's insane," Mira said flatly. "The old system nearly destroyed an entire generation of Proxies. You're talking about deliberately hurting people."

"I'm talking about survival." Marcus's voice cut through the protests. "Valdris has developed magic specifically designed to break Shared Bonds. If we can't defend against it, we lose. And if we lose, everything we've built—this Academy, the reforms, the new generation—all of it disappears."

"So we sacrifice our principles to win?" Sera's voice shook with anger. "That makes us no better than Valdris."

"No." Kael stepped forward, his mind racing. "We don't sacrifice our principles. We expand our capabilities. The old system was brutal because it was permanent, because Proxies had no choice, no control. But what if we could use old-style bonds voluntarily? In short bursts, with full consent, for specific tactical purposes?"

Marcus looked at his son with something like pride. "That's exactly what Lord Vane proposed to the war council."

"It's still dangerous," Ren pointed out. "Even short bursts of one-directional flow can cause serious damage."

"Everything about war is dangerous." Kael met his students' eyes, seeing fear and determination in equal measure. "But here's what I know—we're the first generation to grow up in the new system. We understand Shared Bonds better than anyone. If anyone can figure out how to use old-style bonds safely, it's us."

"You want us to volunteer." Mira's statement wasn't a question.

"I want you to be ready." Kael corrected. "The Queen won't send students into combat unless absolutely necessary. But if it comes to that, I want you prepared. I want you to understand both systems, so you can make informed choices."

"And if we choose not to fight?" Lily's voice was small but steady.

"Then you don't fight." Marcus's voice was firm. "That's the whole point of the reforms. Proxies have agency now. You get to choose. But understand that choosing not to fight means others will fight in your place. Others will take the risks, bear the costs."

The weight of that settled over the courtyard. These were children, Kael thought. The oldest was barely twenty. They should be studying, practicing, preparing for careers in magical research or civil service. Not preparing for war.

But war didn't care about should.

"I'll fight." Mira spoke first, her voice clear. "My mother is at the border. If Valdris breaks through, she dies. I'm not letting that happen."

"I'll fight too." Ren stepped forward. "My sister just graduated. She's probably already being mobilized. The Ashford family has spent fifteen years trying to atone for my great-aunt's treason. This is our chance to prove our loyalty."

One by one, the students stepped forward. Not all of them—Lily and a few others remained back, and Kael felt a surge of respect for their honesty. But more than half the class volunteered, their young faces set with determination.

"Then we train." Kael's voice was steady despite the fear in his chest. "Starting tomorrow, we add old-system techniques to the curriculum. Professor Thorne will teach you the theory. I'll teach you the practice. And we'll pray to every god that listens that you never have to use it."

That evening, Kael found his father in the Academy's library, surrounded by old texts and magical diagrams. Marcus looked up as Kael entered, his expression weary.

"You did well today," Marcus said. "With the students."

"I terrified them." Kael slumped into a chair. "Half of them probably won't sleep tonight."

"Better terrified and prepared than comfortable and dead." Marcus pushed a book across the table. "I've been researching old combat techniques. Things we used to do before the reforms, when survival was more important than ethics."

Kael flipped through the pages, his stomach churning at the descriptions. Magical overload tactics. Proxy sacrifice maneuvers. Techniques designed to maximize damage at the cost of the Proxy's life.

"We're not teaching them this," Kael said firmly.

"We might have to." Marcus's voice was heavy. "If Valdris is using void magic to break bonds, conventional tactics won't work. We need every advantage."

"Not this advantage." Kael closed the book. "Dad, you spent fifteen years fighting to end this kind of magic. You can't seriously be suggesting we bring it back."

"I'm suggesting we survive." Marcus met his son's eyes. "You didn't live through the old system, Kael. You don't know what it was like. But I do. And I know that sometimes, survival requires ugly choices."

"Then maybe we need to find a third option." Kael stood, pacing the library. "The old system was brutal. The new system is vulnerable. But what if there's something in between? Something that combines the strengths of both without the weaknesses?"

"Like what?"

"I don't know yet." Kael's mind raced, pieces of theory and practice colliding. "But I know this—we have the best magical theorists in the world. We have students who've grown up understanding bonds in ways previous generations never could. If anyone can innovate our way out of this, it's us."

Marcus was quiet for a long moment. Then he smiled, and it was the first genuine smile Kael had seen from him in days. "You sound like Lord Vane. He said almost the same thing to the war council."

"Then maybe Lord Vane and I should talk." Kael felt a spark of excitement cutting through the fear. "If we're going to fight Valdris, we need to fight smart. Not just revert to old tactics, but create new ones."

"The Queen is meeting with Lord Vane tomorrow morning. I can arrange for you to be there." Marcus stood, gathering his books. "But Kael—don't get your hopes up too high. Innovation takes time, and we don't have much of that."

"Then we work fast." Kael headed for the door, his mind already spinning with possibilities. "That's what the new generation does, right? We solve problems the old generation thought were impossible."

After Kael left, Marcus remained in the library, staring at the old texts. His son's optimism was admirable, but Marcus had lived through too much to share it fully. He'd seen what desperation could drive people to do. He'd felt the cost of survival in his bones.

But maybe that was the point. Maybe the new generation needed to believe in impossible solutions. Maybe that belief was what would save them all.

Or maybe it would just get them killed.

In the palace, Silas Vane sat in his private study, surrounded by similar texts. But where Marcus researched old techniques, Silas was studying the bond itself—the magical structure that had defined his life for fifteen years.

Professor Aldric's diagrams were spread across his desk, showing the fractures in the royal bond with painful clarity. Small cracks in the magical pathways. Weak points where the connection stuttered. Signs of degradation that would only worsen under stress.

"You should be sleeping." Elara's voice came from the doorway. She'd changed out of her formal gown into simple sleeping clothes, her hair loose around her shoulders. Even after fifteen years, the sight of her still made his heart skip.

"Can't sleep." Silas gestured to the diagrams. "Trying to understand what's happening to us."

Elara moved to stand behind him, her hands resting on his shoulders. Through the bond, he felt her concern, her love, and beneath it all, the same fear that kept him awake.

"Aldric said we have years," she said softly.

"Aldric said we have years if we're careful. If we don't push the bond." Silas turned to face her. "But we're about to go to war, El. Careful isn't an option."

"Then we'll deal with it when we have to." Elara's fingers traced the silver at his temples. "We've faced impossible odds before."

"We were younger then. Stronger." Silas caught her hand, pressing it to his cheek. "I'm tired, El. The bond is tired. I don't know if we have another impossible victory in us."

"Then we'll find one anyway." Elara's voice was fierce. "Because that's what we do. That's who we are."

Through the bond, Silas felt her absolute certainty, her refusal to accept defeat. It was the same determination that had driven her to reform the Proxy system, to face down her own nobles, to build something better from the ashes of the old world.

"I met some of the Academy students today," Elara continued. "After the war council. They're so young, Silas. So eager. They volunteered to fight without hesitation."

"They're brave."

"They're children." Elara's voice cracked slightly. "Children who should be studying and falling in love and figuring out who they want to be. Not preparing for war."

"But they are preparing for war. Because we gave them something worth fighting for." Silas pulled her into his lap, holding her close. "A world where Proxies and nobles are partners. Where bonds are built on consent and respect. That's worth defending, El. Even if the cost is high."

"Even if the cost is us?"

"Especially if the cost is us." Silas kissed her forehead. "Our lives matter less than the legacy we leave behind. You taught me that."

"I'm starting to hate that lesson." Elara buried her face in his shoulder. "I want to be selfish. I want to preserve the bond, preserve us, and let someone else save the world."

"No, you don't." Silas smiled against her hair. "You're incapable of being selfish. It's one of the things I love most about you."

They sat in silence for a while, the bond humming between them with its familiar warmth. Fifteen years of constant connection had made them almost one person in some ways. Silas could feel Elara's thoughts as clearly as his own, could sense her emotions before she expressed them.

"What if we can't win?" Elara asked finally. "What if Valdris is too strong, their void magic too effective? What if everything we've built just... ends?"

"Then we make sure it doesn't end with us." Silas's voice was firm. "The Academy will survive. The students will survive. The next generation will carry on what we started. That's the whole point of legacy, El. It outlasts us."

"I don't want to be a legacy. I want to be alive." Elara's voice was small, vulnerable in a way she rarely allowed herself to be.

"I know." Silas held her tighter. "I want that too. But we don't always get what we want. We get what we're willing to fight for. And I'm willing to fight for a world where Kael Thorne and Lyra Ashford and all those brave, foolish students get to live full lives. Where they get to be more than just names on monuments."

Through the bond, he felt Elara's acceptance, her resignation, and beneath it all, her love. They'd always known it might come to this. From the moment they'd chosen to reform the system, they'd accepted that the cost might be everything.

"Tomorrow, I'm meeting with young Kael Thorne," Silas said, changing the subject slightly. "Marcus's son. He has some ideas about combining old and new bond techniques."

"Is he any good?"

"Marcus thinks he's brilliant. Says he has insights into bond theory that even the professors don't." Silas smiled. "Apparently, growing up in the new system gives him a perspective we old-timers lack."

"Then let's hope his perspective includes a way to win this war without killing ourselves." Elara stood, pulling Silas to his feet. "Come to bed. Whatever tomorrow brings, we'll face it better with some sleep."

Silas let her lead him to their chambers, though he doubted sleep would come easily. His mind was too full of diagrams and strategies, of young faces volunteering for war and old bonds fraying under strain.

But as he lay beside Elara, feeling the bond pulse between them with its steady rhythm, he allowed himself a moment of peace. Whatever came next, they would face it together.

They always had.

In the Academy dormitories, Kael Thorne lay awake, his mind racing with possibilities. Beside him, his bonded partner—a noble named Adrian Frost—slept peacefully, their connection a gentle hum in the back of Kael's consciousness.

Kael had been bonded to Adrian for three years now, since they were both twenty. It had been a choice, made freely, with full understanding of what it meant. Their bond was strong, stable, built on friendship and mutual respect.

But what if they had to change it? What if the war required them to shift from the Shared Bond they'd built to something more like the old system? Could their partnership survive that kind of transformation?

Kael reached out through the bond, gently touching Adrian's sleeping mind. He felt warmth, trust, and beneath it all, the same worry that kept Kael awake. Adrian was scared too. They all were.

But fear didn't mean paralysis. Fear could be fuel, if you used it right.

Kael pulled out his notebook, the one where he kept his magical theories and half-formed ideas. By the light of a small mage-lamp, he began to sketch out concepts. Ways to modify bonds. Techniques for rapid switching between Shared and old-style configurations. Defensive measures against void magic.

Most of it was probably nonsense. But somewhere in these scribbles might be the key to survival. The innovation that would let them fight Valdris without sacrificing everything they'd built.

He just had to find it before time ran out.

End of Chapter 2

End of Chapter 28