The question was—did Cael have a month?
A month to slowly train and increase his power?
He wasn't sure. The recollections of an erased timeline were a quietly ticking clock; and a much more present tension came from the Nuvoloso family.
Father exchanged letters with other lords-mages, securing alliances against the greedy neighbor and calling on vassals for military aid, Mother knitted furiously, and their children trained, whether or not they wanted it.
Vittorio believed he was ready to fight this instant, and didn't forget to mention it to everybody who would listen. Cael shared the desire to meet their enemy face to face, but knew that Father won't send his children to a battlefield unless something changes.
Vittorio was still his heir, too young and precious to send out on his own; and Cael was still mostly useless.
For a week, as more and more news came from Oliveira's borders with Nuvoloso about movements of enemy soldiers, Cael spent his days training. He sparred with Marco or illusions until his mana pool was empty to the last drop, then meditated and repeated everything again until evening, when he would fall in bed, dead asleep with exhaustion.
Even Father had noticed that behavior, which was when he said, "You are exhausting yourself, son. The dedication is admirable, but if you approach training this way, you will just burn yourself out. Now go and take a break. Do something else for a day."
This was how Cael ended up in his secret spot near a river, quietly playing lute and enjoying the wonderful weather. He realized there and then—his father was right, and he needed a break. His body and soul breathed easier when he returned home later this evening. His mind felt sharper and clearer than during the last week.
In that sharpness, things Cael probably wouldn't have noticed another time, stood out especially brightly. A rare bird sitting on a tree, a cloud with a funny shape, a man with strangely deep mana pool and perceptive eyes chatting with a guard near the city's gates.
Cael frowned and, instead of passing by, came up closer. He caught a bit of the conversation.
"…you think?"
"Of course! What, you think our lord takes weaklings in his army? We—" The guard paused when he noticed Cael's approach.
Cael straightened his back and made his best Father's impression. In the end, whether or not people admitted it, he was the next in the line of Oliveira lords. As of now, almost a full-fledged first rank mage. All he lacked was the size of his mana pool, otherwise his father would've long ago admitted it.
This was how ranks worked. You needed a confirmation of a superior to get it, often to pass an exam of some sort. The higher your rank was, the harder those became. The ranking system, after all, was entirely men's doing, an attempt to bring order to the chaos of magic.
Regardless, the guard was only a zeroth rank, a commoner. And he stood at attention under Cael's glare.
"Signore Oliveira! I, uh…"
"I don't think you are supposed to chat with passersby on duty, soldier," Cael said, and glanced at the strange traveler. "And who is this?"
"Forgive me, signore. I am just a humble traveler." The man bowed and stepped away, not looking above Cael's eyes. On closer inspection, he looked painfully unremarkable. "I came here, because I've heard there's an alchemist in this city… I hope to become his student."
That explained his mana pool. The man must've trained on his own, because alchemists needed mana as much as all other kinds of mages…
"Don't distract guards any more," Cael told him and continued his return to the Oliveira tower.
Two days later, Cael finished his training earlier than usually—early enough to not feel like he was going to fall asleep on his feet. He needed to go somewhere today.
The alchemy shop hasn't changed since the last time Cael was there, unlike Leonardo. The old man looked positively haggard.
"Signore Oliveira? If your father had sent you, then no, his empowering potions are not ready yet, they need to age! Five more days!"
"I didn't come from my father," Cael said, walking in. "I just wanted to ask a question."
"Oh!" Leonardo exhaled with relief. "Good, very good. Ask away."
"Did anyone ask to become your student recently?"
"I wish!" The alchemist huffed. "I would drink a bottle of aqua fortis for a second part of hands these days."
Cael nodded. Could this traveler have been a spy? Father would want to hear this, except it's not like Cael had anything but suspicious. He won't even be able to describe the man. Black hair, brown eyes, average height—half the city looked like this!
In the end, it wasn't like Cael could track this person on his own, so he had told Father about this—and he replied exactly what Cael had told himself.
"Of course Enzo would send spies to us. Just like I've sent spies to him," Cael's father added. "Tell me if you spot this man again, Cael. I will tell guards to be on alert in case they meet him again, too."
Cael knew this won't help. By the time he would relay a message, the spy would be long gone from the spot. And what were the chances of meeting him again, anyway?
Spoiler: the chance is small, but never zero.
Aqua fortis, by the way, an alchemical name for acids.