It's been a while since I wrote anything, either here or on my own quest, mostly because of personal issues, but I had an idea, so let's try and see if I still can at least make an omake.
Just preferential treatment
Prince Mandred Holswig-Schliestein, prince of the Empire of Man, and Apprentice of the Bright Order, looked at his fretting Master, Lady Magister Geburah, nicknamed "Sigmar's judgement" in some military circles and, once again, wondered who was truly the master in that relationship, the awe-inspiring warrior who has killed more enemies of the empire than any other person (except perhaps for his godmother, if only by the technicality of using a superweapon), or the little kid who was barely capable of defeating a single orc in combat, but whose every word seemed to still the room.
"Master Geburah." The prince interrupted the lesson. He had a feeling most Apprentices would not be allowed to so casually interrupt their masters. Then again, he wouldn't know. He did not spend much time with regular Apprentices anyway. But he suspected. He also knew that this kind of thing never applied to him. Maybe it was how his Master rolled, for all he knew, but as usual, he suspected otherwise. He has been suspecting a lot of things lately, even since he learned about the actual most common reading of his Doom was. People around him, even his own mother, were too accommodating, too free with praises, and too stingy with chastisements, even in areas he knew for a fact he was inadequate in. No, more than that, people would often blame themselves for his own inadequacies. His whole life he had spent like this, but after observing a little bit how the world outside his castle walls operated, he was starting to wonder if this was not natural. He was, after all, the Emperor's son.
"I wanted to ask... am I really talented in this? Any of this? The fighting, the magic, the doing anything? Or is this all just preferential treatment?"
"Of course you..."
"Please. You are my Master. I want you to be honest with me. I will bear the truth, even if it is ugly."
Lady Magister Geburah calmed herself down, with the meditations the Bright order had taught her to keep the fire in check. Most people would just ignore the prince's request and assuage his doubts. It was probably the wise choice. But damn it, no matter how much she meditated, she could not ignore a sincere request for honesty. Regardless of everything, it was not what her heart told her.
And Bright Order lessons or not, she did not reach the rank of Lady Magister by ignoring what her heart told her. So she should give the kid honesty. Nevertheless, she also didn't reach that rank without considering things through. Emotions were the signs, but logic was the crown. She should phrase things nicely, but still be completely honest. No, scratch that, if she were to phrase things too nicely, the prince would suspect she was lying. So she should aim to be somewhat blunt, while not hurting his feelings too much, all the while being completely honest.
Ok. That was a lot. For most people. But she was chosen for this job because she was not like most people.
"Just preferential treatment? Do you think talent itself is not, to an extent, preferential treatment? Do you think the fact you had the best tutors since birth didn't give you an advantage over everyone else? Do you think that eating better didn't make you bigger and stronger than the average apprentice of the Order, who has been born a peasant? People will tell you you are stronger because of your noble blood or favor of gods, but really, I have seen the children of Burghers and I am pretty sure it's the diet. Do you think the free time you have to study and learn and train and practice instead of working in the fields is not talent? The answer to your question is tricky, because you are talented and it is preferential treatment, and the two things are not easy to distinguish."
"Then... is it just? Maybe if another child had what I had, then they'd be better at being me than I am..."
Geburah was glad the kid was worried about justice. That would make a good emperor. Still, that was a tricky question to answer."Just? Is it just that the whole fate of our Order depends on how you'd turn out, which is, to an extent, up to luck? That we'd be hunted or exalted, based solely on how you'd be remembered in history? Is it just that the lives of countless people depend on your choices? On whether you'll be more like Dieter or Magnus? On the other hand, Is it just that you'll have to face tougher dilemmas than the vast majority of people because you'll be, if not the Emperor, at the very least an Elector Count? That you'll constantly carry huge weights of the choices you made and their consequences in your soul? That you'll face greater danger in life, simply because of who your father is?"
Mandred fell silent, contemplative.
"I do not know the answer to any of that either. But I do sincerely believe that helping to make a better ruler for the Empire, and a better symbol for wizards will bring more justice to the world. Whatever everyone else may think, I am teaching you because I believe in this. And that means I have to believe in you. And a lot of people believe the same thing."
Mandred was trying to process all this. In retrospect, some of this stuff may have been too heavy.
"I think I will conclude the lesson here today. This is perhaps more important to think about. But to answer your question, no, it's not just preferential treatment. Instead, maybe you should think of it as... just preferential treatment."