"What's the difference?" she asked, not quite understanding. To her, there was no problem with using the girl's hatred as a motivation. She wanted revenge, she wanted to beco stronger, and as her teacher, she had to help her. And she, herself, was looking forward to seeing the girl's potential realized. The role of a teacher was just to make their students stronger, wasn't it?
"Because she's a child!" his voice was now a little louder, a little more insistent. "She's only ten years old! Her mind is still developing!"
Serie had never had much contact with children, let alone human children. She didn't know how difficult it was to shape a child's character. The only child she had ever known was Ela, hundreds of years ago. But Ela had had her own parents. She had only had to teach her magic. The rest had been taken care of by them.
He, himself, had no experience with raising a child either. But he had read books in his past life, and he would do his best. No one is a born parent. Though, to be fair, she wasn't his child. But he didn't mind learning. He would help her to beco the great mage she was destined to be. And Serie... she just didn't have the sa perspective.
"Her life has only just begun, and it is already consud by hatred," he said, and his hands, which had been resting on her shoulders, now gripped them a little tighter. "Her world, at a ti when she most needed guidance, was filled with a single, overriding goal: revenge."
"Serie, as her teacher, as her guide on the path of magic... we must do more than just teach her spells. We have to help her to use her power wisely. Do you want her to beco a bringer of disaster to this world?"
At his last words, a flicker of sothing, a hint of a wicked smile, appeared in her eyes, but under his own intense gaze, she just gritted out a single word: "No." She thought it would be interesting, if her own student were to beco a scourge upon the world. But he... he had a point. She was conflicted. And for him, she could suppress her own love of war. It seed that he did not share her enthusiasm.
"You teach her that power is for killing, that magic is the most efficient tool for destruction," he said. "And against the demons, that is not wrong. But it is only a part of the truth. Power can also be used to protect. And magic... it is a path to the very source of the world, an all-encompassing thing, not just a tool for destruction. If all we teach her is revenge, if we let her grow strong on a diet of hate, then all she will ever see in the world is hatred and destruction. She may beco a powerful avenger, a terror to all demons. But she will lose the chance to see all the other colors of life. Her heart... it will be forever consud."
His voice was now almost a plea. "She has an infinite number of futures. But that one... it is not the ending I wish to see. And so I want to guide her, to lead her to a perfect ending. Because... I am her teacher."
His words echoed in her ears, each one a heavy weight on her heart. She stood there, her eyes reflecting his image, and his thoughts, and her face began to soften.
In her long, long life, she had taught many. She had imparted knowledge, had taught them the spells they had wanted to learn, had helped them to realize their full potential and beco powerful mages. She had never once thought that the title of 'teacher' carried with it such a heavy responsibility.
She was used to seeing death through the eyes of an elf. A human's life was a fleeting thing. For them to be able to shine so brightly, even for a short ti, was a remarkable feat in itself. The girl's hatred was a powerful motivator, a shortcut to strength. And in her eyes, it was the most efficient way. As for whether her heart would beco cold and twisted in the process... that was a price she had to pay for power. In her long life, she had heard countless tales of those who had been consud by their own strength. It was a common story.
But he was different. He was human. He understood the complex emotions that were contained in a short and fleeting life. He saw her not just as a talented apprentice, but as a young girl in need of guidance. His 'teacher' was a human, caring for the growth of another human. And that... that was a perspective she had never considered.
She rembered how he had taught the girl, and his words now made those mories all the more clear.
After a long, long silence, the cool indifference in her eyes began to fade, replaced by a new light, a light of confusion and a deep contemplation.
In the end, she did not agree, but she did not refute him either.
Flam was the first person he had ever been willing to teach, the first to be nurtured by both a god-slayer and a saint. And her talent was worthy of such a tutelage.
His words had not been enough to completely convince her. In her mind, she had already done more than enough just by teaching them her magic. She was not obligated to be a parent to them as well. But... since he had asked... she would make an exception. Just for this one child.
She gave a slight, almost imperceptible, nod.
"I understand," she said, and in her own voice, she could hear a strange and new complexity.
Just a few words. But in them, he had seen it all. The elven miss... for the first ti, she was beginning to consider the true aning of the word 'teacher'. It was a crack in the icy facade of her detached elven heart, a beginning of a change.
He looked at her, at the thoughtful light in her eyes, and he knew. To change an elf who had lived for thousands of years... it would not be the work of a single day. But to make her think, to make her question her own detached worldview... it was a huge step forward.
And he believed that ti would change everything, would bring this high and mighty elven miss down to earth.
And then... his own chance would co.
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