Brent Drenlin huffed in frustration as he brushed his dark blond hair out of his eyes. "Stupid thing," he muttered under his breath. He tried to fix the attempted drawing, but only served to make it worse. Annoyed, he tore the page out of the journal and ripped it up.

"Brent!" Oh, great. Just what he needed. He didn't even bother looking up when his older sister Lizzy sat down beside him. Her green eyes seemed to pierce right into his very soul. "What are you doing? Papa wanted that days ago!"

Brent rolled his eyes. "Couldn't we have a tutor like the normal children in the village?" he grumbled. "What sort of school makes you draw a tree?"

"You know why we can't," Lizzy scolded him, narrowing her eyes. Yes, he did know. All of Brent's siblings possessed some form of magic, which was frowned upon in the society of Corttann. Not strictly illegal—yet—but to possess magic made a person into a pariah. What Brent wouldn't give to be a pariah! The rest of his siblings had magic, but he had none.

"Whatever," he said. Having Lizzy, who was twelve, be older than him by a year and have magic was bitter medicine to swallow.

"You're going to miss your deadline," Lizzy scolded him. She never missed her deadline. Probably because she could read Papa's mind and see exactly what he wanted from them, Brent thought sourly.

"Shoo," Brent said, waving his charcoal pencil at her irritably. "My muse will strike, just wait."

"If you miss the deadline, Papa won't let you watch him duel that knight," Lizzy reminded him.

Way to rub it in. Brent already knew he would be missing it. Did she really have to mention it and make things a hundred times worse? Seeing the sour expression on Brent's face, Lizzy relented and held out her hand. "Here. Let me see. I can do it for you." She probably knew how much that duel meant to him.

It was sorely tempting to accept Lizzy's offer. What could be easier? She was an extremely good artist and didn't even have to worry about her hands shaking—she used her telekinesis to levitate the pencil and draw with it. But at the same time, if Papa ever found out, he'd kill Brent. And making Papa angry just wasn't worth seeing him grind another knight into dust. Sighing, Brent shook his head, cursing his stupidity. "It's alright, Liz. It's better if I do it myself. You know Papa hates cheating more than anything."

A smile lit up Lizzy's face. "That he does," she said.

A heavy hand on Brent's shoulder made him jump and swing around. Papa stood there, a smile on his face. "Well done, my boy," he said. "Not cheating beats a drawing of a tree and a missed deadline any old day. Ready to see your old man win?"

Brent nodded enthusiastically, throwing the drawing supplies aside. There was probably a lesson in there somewhere; he was just too excited about seeing Papa destroy a knight in a duel to really think about it.