The Genius’ War

Xavier could still feel the cold morning air as he walked through the stone corridors of his school in Winchester. With his hands in his pockets, he entered the classroom. As the other students took their seats, his eyes fell on the questions on the blackboard.

As usual, the teacher had written some equations on the board. As Xavier scanned them, he noticed that one of them was strange. Most of the questions were at the usual level, but one - an integral question - was noticeably more complex than the others. Xavier immediately realised that this question was way above his level.

When the lesson started, the teacher explained that the questions could be solved. Xavier glanced at the paper in front of him and began to solve them routinely. As his pencil moved quickly across the paper, he noticed other students whispering. Most of them were working on easier questions, while others were thinking with their pencils to their mouths.

The boy sitting next to him looked worriedly at the paper and sighed. "Do you understand this integral question?" he asked.

Xavier gave a slight shrug without looking up. "I think so," he said.

He wasn't going to show her how to solve the problem. He had no reason to help the other side. Besides, if he helped her once, the other side would always ask for help.

Xavier usually didn't help anyone because of this thought.

His classmates disliked Xavier for these thoughts and accused him of being selfish. Xavier didn't usually care. He spent most of his time in the school's large library.

His love of books began at an early age. The first book he read was a history book. Then a maths book. He found these books in his father's study and read them.

After finishing the books in his father's study, he started buying books with his own money. Sometimes he did not eat because the pocket money his mother gave him was not enough to buy books.

Xavier knew that he was talented and intelligent compared to other people, but he did not think that this was something useful.

He thought that by showing his intelligence and talents to his mother and father he would get their love, but it was not as he expected.

Intelligence and talent had not given Xavier anything he wanted in this life.

He began to work with simple steps. The equation was complicated at first sight, but Xavier quickly understood the connections between the symbols. Derivatives, limits, transformations of variables... step by step.

Amid the buzz of the classroom, the teacher moved between the desks. As he approached Xavier's desk, he paused for a moment. His eyes moved to the lines on the paper. Xavier noticed his gaze but did not look up. When he touched the paper for the last time with his pencil, he had completed the solution.

The teacher quietly took the paper and began to analyse it. The class was still struggling. The teacher looked at Xavier's solution with an uncertain expression on his face and nodded slightly. He didn't say anything, just carried on.

Xavier looked back at the paper in front of him. It was then that he noticed that the other students were still struggling with the questions. What came naturally to him was a hindrance to others. But it wasn't something that interested him. For him, maths was just a game with numbers. What really interested him was words. The rhythm hidden in the sentences, the mathematics behind the meanings. But nobody knew that. For now.

When the lesson was over, the pupils slowly gathered their things and left the classroom. Xavier was putting his notebook in his bag when he noticed the teacher approaching. The middle-aged man was looking at Xavier with his hands clasped behind his back and a thoughtful expression on his face.

"Xavier, can you stay for a moment?"

Xavier slung his bag over his shoulder and looked up. The classroom was nearly empty. The teacher pointed to the integral question on the board and smiled.

"I put this question here on purpose," he said, bowing slightly. I didn't think there would be anyone in the class who could answer it.

"Xavier shrugged. I was just following the rules," he said simply.

His main aim in solving this question was not to impress the teacher. He was testing himself. He wondered if he could get it right. He had a very good theoretical knowledge of maths, but he had not done any practical work.

While ordinary people could not learn without practice, Xavier had only learnt by reading. He was very lucky, but he didn't know what he had.

The teacher shook his head. "There's more to it than that. You're not just a fast processor, you understand how things work. Such insight is rare at that age. Have you ever considered further training? Maybe private lessons, maybe entering a maths competition?"

Xavier shook his head slightly from side to side. "No, thank you," he said politely but firmly. "My interests lie elsewhere."

The teacher's face fell for a moment, but then returned to its original colour. "Very well, but remember, talent is valuable. If you change your mind, you can always come to me."

If it had been any other student instead of Xavier, the teacher would have tried to persuade him, but he knew he couldn't convince Xavier, so he didn't want to prolong the conversation.

Xavier just bowed his head and left the classroom. As he walked down the corridor, he got lost in the noise and hoarse laughter of the other students. Something else was on his mind: His brother.

His little brother was the one innocent thing in his life. Maybe that's why he tried to give him little surprises every chance he got. After leaving the school, he went straight to the street where the bookshop was. As he stepped onto the stone pavement of Market Hill, he glanced briefly at the shop windows.

Finally, he stopped in front of an old bookshop. The tiny bell above the door tinkled softly as he entered. Inside, he wandered among the shelves, looking for something for his brother. Finally, he found an old, but well-preserved children's book: 'Counting the Sky' - a story about a child who counts and dreams of the stars.

When he looked at the price tag, he saw that the price had dropped. The prices of the other books were the same, but this one was on sale.

Xavier was happy to find a book on sale. Sometimes he used his lunch money to buy books. He preferred acquiring knowledge to eating. Although he did not like such books, his brother did.

He went to the counter and bought the book. As he put it in his pocket, he glanced at his own face reflected in the window. There were light rings of sleep around his eyes. Perhaps he was thinking too much. But that was his nature.

Unlike ordinary people, Xavier never forgot anything.

Once he saw something, he never lost it. Pages, faces, street names, conversations... they all took their place in his mind and were indelible. He rarely read the poems he wrote in his notebook twice because he already knew them by heart. Mathematics and physics were solved puzzles for him, the seemingly complex equations already lined up in his mind.

But such a powerful memory was not always a blessing. Sometimes things he didn't want to see were engraved in his memory. His mother's tired face, his father's distant and cold gaze... the division in the house. He wished he could forget them. But he couldn't.

he put the book in her bag and left the shop. As he walked home, the late afternoon light of Winchester reflected in the windows of the stone buildings and the sky turned a pale orange.

Today was an ordinary day. But for Xavier, even ordinary days were etched on the walls of his mind.