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lifespans of the previous chiefs, there’s a good chance I would never have gotten to this spot. Or your mother. When I applied the first couple of times, I assumed I would become chief. Same situation as yours—great power, great ambition, and so on. Believing you’ll get something, without understanding the actual job, likely means you’ll never get it, especially a job you have to be voted in for when someone dies.”
    What’s there to understand? You lead the Kastori and settle quarrels. How can that possibly be difficult to comprehend?
    “It’s as political a position as it is a merit-based one,” Typhos’ father said after seeing the confusion and disagreement on his son’s face.
    “That’s stupid,” Typhos said without hesitation. “Why wouldn’t we want our strongest and smartest people on the council instead of just those who can suck up the best? It’s counterproductive.”
    The expression on his father’s face suggested to Typhos he’d had this conversation many times before, as Adanus barely flinched.
    “Because while that sounds good in theory, mere magical strength and intelligence aren’t always enough—and sometimes, those who have enough don’t want the job for a variety of reasons,” his father said, immediately bringing Pagus to mind. “Your mother, for example, is very smart and has an immense amount of power. You got your powers from her, not me. But she’s chief because she attached herself to the right people and, well, sometimes it’s a bit overwhelming and clingy, but it helped get her where she is today. She understood the politics side.”
    Specifically, you.
    Typhos shrugged, knowing he wouldn’t win this discussion, especially given the state his father was in. I don’t really want to win, either. I just went off on one thing. I’ll make the changes in time.
    His father suddenly hacked with such force that blood came out of his throat and splattered on the ground.
    “Dad!” Typhos screamed, standing up disgusted.
    “It’s a bit worse,” Adanus said as he continued coughing, albeit without blood. “But I’ll be fine, I promise.”
    Just… whatever. Nothing is gonna change.
    “Tell me about your test today.”
    Deflecting. Again. But just go with it. Maybe if you talk enough…
    “Well,” Typhos said, adding a few beats of silence so he could compose himself. “It was kind of hilarious. Tara kept scolding us and me specifically. She kept saying how Kastori magic should be used more on a need-to basis instead of showing off. But I finished the test so quickly that I just had to add a little fun to the proceedings. Nothing harmful, though.”
    Much to his relief, he saw his father grinning with guilty pleasure as if he had committed his own troubles in class as a child.
    “Yeah, it wasn’t difficult at all, honestly. I didn’t even study. Didn’t really see the need to.”
    His father looked well for just a flash as he gave a slight chuckle, color returning to his face.
    “You have a good sense of your talents and how to spend your time. But in keeping with the theme of what is and isn’t enough, understand that if you want to become chief, it’s not enough to appeal to just your friends and interests. You have to appeal to the older generation too, or at least pay your respects. You’ll never make everyone happy, and you shouldn’t try to, but there’s a line between blatant showmanship and an impressive display of magic. Aim for the latter, not the former. The former annoys the elders, and they’ll work to keep you off the council. And if they want to, they certainly can. Presentation, in essence, matters as much—really, probably more—than substance in politics. It’s a reality we all have to accept.”
    Typhos remembered Tara specifically calling him out for trying to become chief and shuddered at the thought that she would talk to councilors to keep him out. He didn’t see how anyone could favor her over him, but the dirty word kept