The Good Teacher

"So let me get this straight," Furion interjected as he massaged his forehead. "You dropped out of the Academy because your Master, Mister Larks here was, for the lack of a better word, kicked out?"

"I mean, there's a lot of better words to describe that situation," Guy muttered with a bitter smile. "Fired, let go of, dismissed, discharged..."

"And now, you're planning to start your own Sect?" The boy continued, ignoring that little aside.

"That pretty much summarises the situation," Markus affirmed.

Furion released a sigh charged with a myriad of emotions and shot a suspicious gaze at the Master-Disciple duo. "Where do I fit into all of this? Are you asking me to join your Sect?"

At this stage, Guy stepped in, "Financing."

Before Furion could speak up in denial, Guy raised his palm and expounded, "Dune Caravan Management."

"That's my father's business. I don't know if I can help you there," Furion replied shaking his head.

"What we need is a foot through the door, that much you can do," Guy reinforced. He noticed the conflicted emotions flashing across Furion's face and added, "Don't worry. It is a lucrative proposition. If you are interested, I can take you through it right now."

Furion inhaled with a shaking breath as he mentally calculated the offer. "No, it's fine. I owe Boss Markus too much - this is the least I can do. As you said, I can get your foot through the door, but I won't be able to help if my father decides to ignore it and brings the door down on your legs."

"That's more than enough," Guy smiled back. "Now then, let's eat. I've booked a hearty lunch, would be a shame to not enjoy it."

That Furion could get behind. He'd never actually eaten at The Golden Plate before. Even though his family was rich and well off, they rarely ate out in such luxurious establishments unless it was to wine and dine a potential client or business partner. Even then, his father actively avoided The Golden Plate due to its exorbitant prices.

In fact, Furion was partly assuaged about introducing this Guy Larks to his father because the man could afford to dine him here. Just to test out the theory further, Furion made it a point to order one or two of the pricier dishes on the menu and gauged the man's facial expressions. Noticing nary a ripple, Furion was sure that one, this man was serious and two, he had a lot of money to spare. Taking money from the rich was basically business 101!

Furion patted his stomach after gulping down the last sip of the Jasmine-Infused Saffron Tea and exclaimed with a hearty, "Aaaah!"

"That was delicious," he added. "Let's get going then."

____

"Is my father in?" Furion inquired the rugged-looking, beast of a man guarding the door to his father's office.

"Little Boss Furion," the man greeted with a bow. "Boss Dune's inside, yes."

"Is he busy?"

"He told me to not let anyone in. I dunno if he's busy or not 'cause he tells me that every time, so..." The man answered while scratching his bald head.

Furion sucked in a fraught breath through his teeth as he contemplated how to progress. After a rather momentous year, Furion had finally moved into his father's good graces. Prior to the turnabout Furion executed to his worldview and persona, in large part due to Markus' intervention, his relationship with his father was quite strained. They rarely talked, and Furion always had the feeling that the man didn't really care about what happened to him.

He did use to care at one point in time, though. Many years back. His father would dote on him, and buy him everything he wanted. Reprimand him when he made a mistake, and praise him when he did something commendable. But somewhere along the way, things started to go sour and their relationship diverged. Furion didn't know why back then, and it remained that way for a very long time since. This was until Furion became properly acquainted with Markus, and changed his approach.

Furion thought that by acting out and getting into trouble, he could once again recapture his father's attention. Maybe that way he would care again? But that was the false path, since every time he did get into some mischief and had his father come bail him out, Furion could feel him moving further and further away. However, after a thorough searching of his memories, Furion figured out the reason and he realised that it had to do with why his father started pushing him away in the first place.

It happened one day when his father invited a client. Furion was told that the client was special. Yet, it was only a bit later that he learned to what extent they were 'special', and just how idiotic of an understatement the word 'special' was to describe them. These clients happened to be directly related to the Emperor, with just a few degrees of separation. Clamping them down would have been a massive deal for the business and the family. Not only would it rake in a lot of potential revenue and extend their connections, but it would also offer the family an opportunity to lose the dreaded "parvenu" label. Furion knew that this was what his father yearned for the most. The man had earned enough money to put them in a high-up position financially, but it was still insufficient when pitted against the big hitters in society namely the ancient clans. No matter how influential and wealthy they may be, when facing the clans that basically ran the Empire, they were just ants.

However, wealth and an endorsement weren't the only barriers to entry into highborn society. There was a third, which was where Furion fit into his father's plan. What ensures the longevity of a clan? The mages affiliated with it. Not the ones in the family's bankroll, but the ones born into it with the clan's blood coursing through their veins.

Furion was the third piece of the puzzle, alas he did not know of it at that time. He was always confused about why his father hired so many personal tutors and Teachers after shelling out inordinate amounts of money. His father hoped that Furion would turn out to be talented in some way, and become the pillar that could help transition their business and family into a Clan.

Nonetheless, Furion failed. When it came time to display their prowess, Furion fizzled out. This was because he never took his training seriously. He was perfectly happy living a life of indulgence.

After that instance, his father stopped paying him any attention. Although it wasn't the first time Furion had disappointed his father, it definitely became the last.

Furion lived in ignorance for many years, until one day, after acquiescing to a request from Markus, things started to turn around. As Furion started to apply himself more thoroughly in his training and in the Academy, he could gradually see his father's disinterested gaze softening. An infrequent word of encouragement, a commendation here, a reward for good performance there; Furion could clearly see his father coming around.

This was why he was feeling a little anxious about what he was about to do right now. On one hand, he owed Markus, and on the other, he didn't want to agitate his father. In the end, he felt that it was wrong to go back on one's words and threw caution to the wind. He knocked on his father's office door.

"Father, it's me Furion," he said with a cautious yet loud voice.

"Come." His father answered from beyond the door.

____

Garlin Dune was exhausted. Nowadays, he'd close himself off in his office even if there was no work for him to do, and simply stare into the unblemished ceiling, without a thought roaming through his mind.

His company basically ran itself. There was always some work to do since people always had to transport goods between places. The logistics were unchanging, hiring the required escorts, charting the course and planning stops, all of it had turned into an automaton that no longer required his input. Garlin worked hard to get where he was. He wasn't ashamed to admit that he built the Dune Caravan Management company with his own blood, sweat and the occasional tears, and it was his proudest creation.

Yet why was he feeling so distraught and idle all the time?

The question was answered by a series of knocks emanating from his doors and the voice of his son, his greatest disappointment.

"Father, it's me Furion," the boy called out. There was apprehension in his voice - the boy required something. In fact, this was something Garlin was getting used to nowadays. When before, the boy used to act gung-ho and impertinent, he was slowly turning more polite and mature. Which did bring a smile to Garlin's face.

"Come," Garlin responded. He had nothing else to do anyway.

The door opened gently, and his son's chubby face poked through. The boy bowed as a greeting and inched closer.

"Sit," Garlin instructed. "Speak."

"Umm, Father," the boy said with a strained smile. "I'm... I was wondering if had some time. You see..."

Garlin growled and said, "Speak properly."

The boy jerked in place and regurgitated his words, "I brought someone who wanted to talk to you about a business deal."

Garlin's eyes narrowed and he had to physically hold himself back from unleashing a regretful sigh.

'Well, at least the boy isn't downright asking to lend money to some miscreants. I can just deny things after hearing what they have to say.'

"Fine, call them in," Garlin accepted.