Cora Ignacius fought with wind magic. Puffs of air danced along her feet and she moved in quick bursts around the field. She fought exclusively with her magic and landed hit after hit against her opponent.

The man without a chit was Wilder Sigur. He dodged the first few attacks but after one struck him, Wilder simply tanked the rest, deciding it was easier to take the small hits. He clapped his hands together and as he separated them slowly, a quarterstaff grew between his hands.

A skill like Daniel’s that lets him summon a weapon. I wonder if it’s a storage skill and that is a real weapon or if that staff is more like my [Ice Sword]. Orrin kept his eyes on the fight. Not getting called on to be in the first fight was lucky and he knew the other shoe would drop soon. I bet Galina calls on me first.

As Orrin waited and tried to find something to say about either side, Cora continued her assault from a distance. She kept her feet close to the sand that marked the outer rim of the fighting ring. Wilder finished summoning his weapon and struck it into the ground in front of him.

Orrin heard someone nearby scoff. “Amateur.”

A glance to his side confirmed the one who commented was Finley. His voice was softer than he’d have expected. Finley untied his hair and put it back up with sure fingers. Orrin noticed the dark-fitted clothes had several depressions molded into them. He stared for a moment too long, puzzled.

Finley caught him and frowned. “What are you looking at, newbie?”

Orrin hoped the [Glamour] hid his blush. Thankfully, he had a real reason for studying the rest of his classmates. “Checking out the competition. This won’t be the last fight. You’re missing something, aren’t you?” He pointed.

Finley’s frown turned into a smile. “Clever. I think this might be a good class this year.” He turned to watch the fight as he ran a thumb over the divots, making them more pronounced as he touched them. “My knives strap up close to my clothes and are held in place by my molded armor underneath. It keeps them secure and in place so I always know where they are without having to look.”

A knife fighter? Orrin watched the fight, too. Wilder was channeling magic through his quarterstaff but hadn’t taken it out of the ground yet. I thought he might be a close melee fighter but he’s here with no weapons.

“No knives today?” Orrin stepped closer to Finley, leaving the other seven students and the teacher’s assistant clumped together. Finley’s reputation was working as a deterrent. “How do you plan to fight without your weapon?”

Finley’s smile was open and inviting as if they weren’t talking about fighting. “If I’m wearing my knives, people die. This is sparring. I’ll use one of the wooden practice daggers. They bring out a table of them after the first demonstration fight.”

Orrin nodded. Galina purposefully gives out fewer tokens than students to draw two people into a fight. She’ll give us some more information about the class but throws us into the deep end.

“What about you? I don’t see a weapon. Mage or melee?” Finley asked. “He’s won.”

A moment later, Orrin felt a pulse of magic. The grass around Cora’s feet grew and tangled her to her ankles. She used a pulse of wind magic to break free but in the moment it took her to look down, Wilder had crossed the field. Cora panicked and cast three spells at him, each stronger than the last. Wilder dug his feet into the ground and sprinted through the wind. He swung his quarterstaff in a series of quick strikes. Orrin barely saw a hit to the thigh and one to Cora’s opposite arm. He heard four distinct smacks, though. Cora was unconscious.

“Winner is Wilder Sigur. Go see Bellamy after you take care of Cora,” Galina announced, pointing out her assistant. “Bellamy will be here if I’m not. His word goes if I’m absent. Do not give him a hard time or you’ll answer to me.”

“She’s not kidding,” Finlay whispered to Orrin. “Some idiot hit Bellamy a year ago when he told him to calm down. We never saw him again.”

Orrin shivered at the implication. Galina could easily break him in two.

Within five minutes, Cora was standing in line with her fist clenching rhythmically.

Wilder had the good sense to position himself at the other end of the lineup.

“Finley, show the class what kind of advice we are looking for. Be as brutal as you want.”

Orrin sighed in relief at not being picked.

Finley nodded as if he’d expected to be called on.

“Wilder, your spell took too long to cast and was too weak. You were able to stop Cora for a fraction of a second with that attack. You would have lost if Cora hadn’t panicked and fought you on her own terms instead. You need to work on getting your casting time down and the actual effects stronger. If you have to summon a weapon during your fight, you’ve already lost. Have it ready before you begin next time, okay?” Finley spoke quickly with no judgment in his voice, just a recitation of facts as he saw the fight. Wilder didn’t look angry at all at being torn down after winning and nodded along to Finley’s criticism.

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“Cora, you panicked at the end when Wilder came at you. Your strategy was sound. Wilder is bigger than you and you never engaged him directly. That was smart, especially against someone you’ve never fought before. You were chipping away at him from a distance, which gave you the best chance to win or run away when he came near you. Your wind spell hit a big area. We could feel it a few times all the way over here. Try finding a way to reduce the target area. If you could aim at Wilder’s feet, you could have knocked him off balance and escaped easier. You might have been able to get in for a kill shot. Pick up a weapon next time. Always have a backup for your regular attacks.”

Cora also nodded and Orrin saw the anger from her loss fade a tiny bit at having the undefeated champion of the following semester praise her strategy. He saw why the professor set up the class this way. The winner would be taken down a peg, focusing on what they could do better the next time. The loser would get a boost from what they did right, with some gentle advice on how to improve.

“I agree,” Galina said, dragging a chest out from an open door. Orrin hadn’t realized she’d left. “Part of this class will be drills with me or Bellamy. I’ll take you aside after a fight and we’ll work on basics, if you’ve never had the training, or I’ll fix any mistakes you might be making. Cora, grab a weapon. You and Bellamy can work on finding something good for you. Maybe a spear or javelin, Bellamy? Something she can control mid-flight if she needs to throw it.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Any volunteers for the next fight? You cannot fight someone who just went and you can’t fight the same person twice in a class unless it’s as part of a group.”

Orrin watched the fights of the other students, as Cora went through the chest of weapons. She settled on a chakram set, throwing the spinning blades with a precision that Orrin was nervous to face in the future even if they were made out of blunted wood instead of sharpened metal.

“Heads up!”

One of the chakrams hit the ground five feet in front of Wilder, throwing dirt up at the man. His eyes widened.

“Sorry,” Cora said with no sympathy in her voice as she retrieved the weapon.

Finley stifled a laugh next to Orrin.

They watched Arlo fight Peregrine next. Arlo’s reach with his sword seemed to give him an early advance over Peregrin’s shorter frame. Even when Peregrine rolled away and was able to throw flames, Arlo used a skill that split the magic into two streams and rushed the middle. A burst of light made him turn his eyes away. When he blinked his eyes and saw Peregrine’s summoned warhammer, he tried to correct his course but was too late. The fiery weapon swept his feet out from underneath him and set a small part of the field on fire. Peregrine won and while they waited, the other students began to chat and discuss the fight. Finley let them discuss the fight amongst themselves, only giving small feedback here and there. Orrin was impressed with his fighting insight.

After a discussion of Arlo and Peregrine’s fight, other students faced off with magic. Leona and Sawyer both fought with summoned wooden weapons, but Leona also combined water magic to wear him down.

Finley requested two opponents. Hugo and Kyon knew each other from the previous semester and volunteered. To Orrin, the fight was astounding. Hugo used ice magic to create weapons in an instant. He hounded Finley with everything from swords to bows. He even made an ice shield that held up well against Finley’s counterattacks. He used only his wooden daggers from the weapon chest.

Kyon waited at the perimeter, sending directed tremors through the ground to shake Finley’s footing. He created puddles of mud for him to slip in but Finley danced out of the danger zone each time. When Hugo overextended with an ice ax, Kyon twisted his hands and an entire portion of earth, still carrying Hugo, jumped back. Finley narrowly missed Hugo and laughed.

“That was great, Kyon.”

The two worked well together, but the way Finley moved was precise and exacting. Every movement was deliberate and allowed Finley to attack in return. He pressed against Hugo, leading him back and forth across the field. After what seemed like forever but couldn’t have been more than a few minutes, Finley began using magic.

The fight was over within twenty seconds.

Finley’s dual knives came down on a small buckler of ice. One careened off the slick surface but the other stuck. Hugo used the opportunity and raised his free hand into the sky, summoning a longsword that he brought down at Finley’s exposed side.

Orrin swore he saw Finley frown as he dodged. His hand came up and a small burst of wind, just like he’d described to Cora, knocked Hugo’s legs out from behind him. Kyon used his magic to push Hugo and keep him up with the earth beneath him but wasn’t able to get a shield up from himself. A second ball of air, so dense Orrin could see it, knocked Kyon out of the ring. Finley held his remaining knife at Hugo’s neck.

“Yield?”

“Damn it, we almost had you. You had to use your wind magic at least.” Hugo spat some grass out of his mouth. “Yield.”

Nobody in the class had anything to say about the fight but Galina didn’t chastise them. “These three have all taken this class at least once before. If they give you advice, listen to it. Same goes for Eloise. You’re up next. Who else hasn’t gone?”

Orrin raised his hand. “Casimir Hale.”

The lanky woman in grey robes waved to him. “I’m Eloise Maki. Do you need a weapon?”

Orrin considered his options. If he used [Way of the Water], the fight would be easier. He trusted the skill enough to know he’d avoid most hits. He’d fought a dozen people in the caves below Mistlight’s castle a week ago, just a few miles from where he stood. But he wanted to keep that a secret as long as he could. He could go with the tried-and-true method of decreasing Eloise’s dexterity or strength until she couldn’t move, but again, that would send signal flares into the sky. Spells like that weren’t common and the last thing he needed was Lord Sanerris hunting him down in the halls of the school he couldn’t leave.

Orrin’s [Ward] would stop him from taking too much damage but playing turtle wasn’t an option in this class. He’d need to fight back. His options were limited in the spell department but he could always try to dazzle with his completely inept sword skills before using [Gust] to knock his opponent out of the ring. It wouldn’t work more than once but he thought he might be able to put enough mana into the spell to push another mage out of bounds.

Orrin used [Ice Sword] and [Fire Sword], bringing a weapon into both hands. He put on a layer of [Ward] and increased his own dexterity. I’ll play the role of wind mage for as long as I can.

“I’m ready. Let’s fight.”