“Casimir took too long,” Eloise admonished. “He could have used the backward windblast earlier in the fight and taken Hugo out.”

“I disagree.” Cora spun one of her chakrams around on her index finger. She was more comfortable every class with the new weapon. “He timed it perfectly. He drew Hugo into complacency before using his trump card. Most of us have to time our attacks to the second with skill and accuracy.”

Orrin flinched. It was no secret that Eloise’s ability to go invisible was her greatest strength and one that most of Battle Class had no recourse against. Cora’s insinuation against Eloise wasn’t lost on anybody.

Orrin listened to the criticism with an open mind but did not expect anything that would actually help him. He was hiding half of his real attacks, not to mention his ability to render any of his classmates a crawling invalid with a few casts of [Decrease Dexterity] or [Decrease Strength]. He never used [Gust] in a real battle before, as far as he could remember, and only had purchased the spell to get [Wind Ward].

Any new spell that Orrin took had the chance of giving him the corresponding magic type as a warding defense spell. He figured it was part of his class [Utility Warder] and had gathered as many different types of wards as he could. His spell [Ward] soaked damage, while the other types, including [Ice Ward], [Fire Ward], and [Water Ward] to name a few, could stack and absorb each specific magic type. As long as he knew what kind of monster or opponent he was facing, Orrin could tank a few hundred points of magic damage. He’d worked hard to get most types of ward spells, with only metal magic being the current outlier.

The class finished their critique of Orrin’s fight and gave Hugo praise for what he’d done right. Some of the older students picked on him a bit for only using an ice bow, commenting that he would have won if he’d simply charged Casimir in the beginning.

Orrin felt a hand land on his shoulder.

Professor Galina frowned down at him. “Come with me.”

The rest of the students didn’t pay attention as Orrin followed her through the door that she came out of each day. The class met on the battlegrounds, the circle they’d fight in. Battle Class didn’t have a classroom.

Orrin was surprised to find a small office, filled with chests overfilled with practice weapons. Galina moved around these with ease and sat behind a desk. A suspicious stain ran along half the top and a stack of paper haphazardly covered the rest. Some of the papers were nailed to the wood with a knife. The chair was too small for her muscular build and she squirmed for a minute, trying to get comfortable.

“Please sit,” she said, waving her arm at the small stool in front of Orrin.

Orrin grimaced as he pulled the stool closer, making it scream against the floor as he dragged one leg. He sat on the edge of the seat, fingers clenched on his legs. The woman in front of him oozed danger in a way that only a few people on Asmea did.

“Was there a problem with my fight, professor?” Orrin took a guess.

There’s no way she knows I’m spying for Annabella. Orrin prayed he was right.

“Yes. You’re holding back.” Galina rubbed the top of her head with one callused hand. “The children out there focused on the wind spell you inverted and missed your increased speed. Why aren’t you using that to your advantage?”

Orrin let out a breath. “I’m saving my speed for when I need to win. I don’t know who I’ll be up against ne—”

“Cut the bullshit,” Galina said, crossing her arms. “You don’t have to tell me what you’re hiding but don’t lie to me. That’s worse. It doesn’t matter, anyways. After class, Bellamy will give you a task. Do it and report back to me after our next class. Here is your chit for winning.”

The small golden square landed on the table. Orrin reached for it but as his fingers closed over the token, Galina’s hand darted out and grabbed him.

“If you don’t use your full speed in every fight from now on, I will disqualify you. This is school but we practice for real combat. There is a war going on. In a real fight, you use everything you have. Hit the enemy and keep hitting until they don’t get up. Being smart is good but opponents rarely cooperate with your plans.”

This close, Orrin couldn’t risk casting a spell. She’d feel the mana pooling. He needed to use [Calm Mind] but had to settle for [Mind Bastion].

“If I’m ever in a real fight, I won’t hold back.” Orrin ran the pros and cons of casting a few [Increase Strength] spells and setting the teacher straight. Continued anonymity outweighed momentary gratification and immediate safety.

Professor Galina smiled. “Good. I’ll make sure you have a real fight next class. Go back to class, Casimir.”

Two of his classmates were fighting but Orrin paid them no attention. His heart was beating fast.

“Casimir, the Professor asked me to talk with you.” Bellamy scooted between a few of his classmates to stand near Orrin. He leaned in close and whispered, “You have a boosting skill?”

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Orrin closed his eyes in frustration and in the hope that nobody nearby heard. A sentence like that could get back to Lord Sanerris and make life very difficult… or very over.

“I have a spell that increases my dexterity, yes.”

Bellamy nodded and handed Orrin a slip of paper. “Meet me here after dinner. Bring comfortable shoes.”

Class ended without incident and Orrin spent dinner with Ellis. Luca sat near them but spoke little. He’d stopped shoveling food in his mouth at every meal and ate at a more regular pace. Orrin saw his friends off before heading to the room written on the paper.

He stood outside the first-floor room on the eastern side of the school. He was closer to his dorm than Battle Class but didn’t go this way. Orrin knocked and tried the door. It was open.

“Bellamy?” Orrin squinted into the darkness, trying to hurry his dark vision along. “Are you in here?”

“I’m behind you, Casimir.”

Orrin jumped, falling against the door. It swung open and he rolled backward into the room.

“Sorry,” Bellamy said without emotion as he stepped over Orrin. He carried a steamer trunk with him. “I’ll be set up in a minute.”

Orrin dusted his pants off and stood. The room was narrow and long. Two small walls separated the room into long alleys, like for bowling… or like a shooting range. The end of the middle lane held a paper target.

“You’ll be standing at the end down there,” Bellamy directed, pointing down the lanes. He pulled a softball-sized rubber ball out of the trunk and tossed it in the air once. He set it down and pulled out ten more. “I’ll be throwing these at you while you try and avoid them. We’re going to build up your dexterity tolerance. Do you know what that…” Bellamy trailed off as he looked up at the room. “Those idiots are supposed to reset the room. One second.”

The man set the last ball down and shook out his robes. Kneeling to the ground, he muttered as mana gathered at his fingers. Orrin watched the two walls making up the alleys sink into the ground. Now a larger area spread out, wide enough to fit a soccer goal.

“You’re going to throw balls at me?” Orrin said, full of dread. “This is what Professor Galina wanted me to do?”

“You’re going to use your spell or skill and avoid the balls. The more you move under the influence of a higher dexterity, the faster your body will acclimate to it. That is dexterity tolerance. You’ll be able to move quicker, utilizing the full potential of your skill.”

“Spell,” Orrin corrected again. “Why are you throwing balls at me though? Can’t I just run laps or something?”

Orrin was having flashbacks to little league baseball and getting hit every time he went up to bat.

“Pain is a good motivator.” Bellamy tossed a ball in the air again. “We’ve got an hour every night until the next class. Let’s begin.”

Magical History passed quickly the next day, even if Orrin was a bit sore from being pelted with softballs. Orrin decided Professor Quinn ranked high on the list of worst teachers he’d ever had. The awful droning of his voice stopped only when he finished a chapter. Two chapters a class and he left the classroom without a word. A typical semester ran for eight weeks, but the book for the class only had thirty chapters, which meant the man would run out of reading material before the class ended. Orrin would bet gold the professor wouldn’t show up for class.

“We can read the book and continue training,” Iona said as she walked by Orrin, Rhys at her side. “He doesn’t teach. I told you I didn’t need to read the assigned chapters.”

“That’s not the point, Iona,” Rhys grumbled before noticing Orrin. “Casimir, good to see you. You didn’t forget about our lunch today, did you?”

Orrin had forgotten completely.

“As long as we’re back for the next block, I’m not going to risk pissing off Professor Hugh.”

Rhys frowned, “Are you in Surviving Spell Attacks? I didn’t see you last class.”

Iona saw him, of that Orrin was sure.

“I sat in the back.”

They made small talk as they walked to the restaurant Rhys picked. Iona followed a step behind, watching every shadow. Rhys included her in the conversation but once Orrin was around, she rarely said more than a few words in response.

Orrin tried to steer the conversation to Rhys and his family but the young man was adroit in turning things back on Orrin. Every sentence that Orrin was able to get Rhys to say cost three well-crafted lies about his background. Orrin started blurring the lines, telling stories about the trouble he and his friend, David, would get into growing up.

The restaurant was intimate, with only a dozen or so small tables. Iona pulled the chair against the back wall out for Rhys and sat at his side. Orrin’s back remained to the door.

By the time they ordered food, Orrin knew he was in trouble. Anabella’s dossier noted Rhys Tonsa’s mother was intelligent and shrewd in her business ventures. She’d turned around the mining operation in eastern Odrana after taking over. Rhys was every bit his mother’s son.

“What other classes are you taking, Casimir?”

It was a simple question but one that Orrin couldn’t lie about. If Rhys could access the master registrar, he’d know immediately Orrin was in classes with the children of the Odranan chancellors.

“A few different classes, but one I’m not sure I’m allowed to talk about,” Orrin falsely bragged, taking a sip of his water and hoping he could throw Rhys off. “Professor Wren herself placed me in it and let me skip a prereq. What about you? Anything good?”

“We have two classes together,” Rhys answered as a waiter brought out the food. Orrin got chicken soup while Rhys’s dish consisted of small vegetables and rabbit. Iona nibbled on some bread and fruit. “I’m taking four more. Two classes related to my magic, although one of those is more of an independent study with Professor Wren. I’m taking one class with Iona since she would never ask for herself. I mostly sleep in it.”

Iona gently nudged her body against Rhys, who smiled in return.

“Iona and I grew up together. She took a job as my bodyguard but forgets that we were friends first.” Rhys’s smile caught her and she rolled her eyes.”

Orrin smiled too. He hated that he was forced to befriend Rhys under false pretenses. He might be a year younger than Orrin, but he carried himself as a much older force. He was someone Orrin and Daniel would have been friends with on Earth.

“What about your sixth class?” Orrin counted the classes up. “You said you’re in six but only mentioned five.”

“Did I?” Rhys dug into his rabbit and started eating. “I don’t remember. What do you make of Professor Hugh? We have some orcs back home but he’s one of the first I’ve met as educated.”

Lunch continued like that, courting small conversations back and forth. Rhys demanded he pay and Orrin gave in after a timid refusal. He couldn’t figure out why Rhys invited him to lunch after meeting him once but figured any facetime with the target was good.

Orrin left at the school gate to grab his notebooks for Surviving Spells. He climbed the stairs two at a time. They’d run late and there was just enough time to get to his room and back before Professor Hugh threw him out.

Orrin rounded the corner just as Ellis closed the door to Orrin’s room. The younger man tested the handle and turned. He let out a squeak.

“Casimir… it’s not what it looks like.”