Garin had only advanced twice in three years, a monstrous pace even though he was holding back a lot. It was hard using the scrolls to learn dancing, but that was only at the foundation stages.

He'd taken first Fedrahn, and then Daye's advice to heart though. He'd only shown his group masters as much advancement as he deemed worth it. He was still the youngest person in the current intermediate class, and he was so far ahead of the curve everyone expected he would be advanced before ten.

*******

"The boy's advancement has been fast. Too fast, even. I still can't help but feel something is being hidden from us though. He was able to make half his body invisible even before he'd started the elementary techniques. I really thought he'd be able to use a full invisibility technique by the time he was ready for the advanced rank," Goesch commented.

Daye couldn't help but snort. "And I told you that was wishful thinking at best. Full body invisibility is a technique only the strongest sphere magic users can use, and a few strong modern mages. A dancer using such a technique is no more than a pipe dream."

"So you say, but you've read the stories as I have. It was once a requirement for one to become friar," Goesch grumbled in reply.

"So you want the boy to be friar?" Daye asked in confusion.

"No! But if I learnt the technique, I would..." he hesitated.

"You would what? Go on, Goesch, don't be shy," Daye smiled mockingly at the younger man.

"That's enough!" the friar chimed in before they could go much further, showing that political acumen that Daye admired and hated.

Admired because he didn't have it, but hated because it had broken him. The politics had cost him a part of himself. A part he was not like to ever get back.

"I think we can all agree that specific part of your experiment was a failure, Goesch. I think we've gotten everything we can safely get from the boy."

Daye cursed internally, as the thing he'd been dreading every time he was called to see the friar for the last few years finally happened. He couldn't understand for the life of him how it had happened though.

The boy had been carefull, had hidden as many of his abilities as he reasonably could. He had progressed slowly enough, even slower than Daye's best case scenario. So why was this happening now?

"Stop holding the boy back, Goesch. Its time for the last stage."

******

Garin didn't particularly hate his current sparring partner. He hardly even knew the boy. Not to say the boy wasn't good, but so was everyone.

They'd all been stuck here longer than Garin, and so they'd practiced these forms many times. Still, they might have mastered them, but they seemed unimaginative in the ways they used the dance.

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If the elementary stage was all about learning to sense the fixed rays of light, then the intermediate was about stamina. Being able to sense the rays for a longer time, and from a longer distance. The qualifier for this stage was the ability to enter the dance state spontaneously.

Garin had found he and almost everyone on the island had a different definition for the word, bar maybe the masters. For him spontaneous meant that between one breath and the next his mind frame would have changed. For his opponents though, it meant they had to close their eyes for a few seconds, sometimes even assume a stance before they got into the right mind space.

Garin, if he wasn't holding back could transition even faster than some masters if he chose to.

An ability to manipulate the rays was the basic requirement to advance. At the advanced stage, a dancer almost became a magician, able to produce illusions and in legends even completely turn invisible.

Only Garin had been able to do it for quire some time. He just didn't want to disregard the instruction both Fedrahn and Daye had given him. He had to act as normal as possible.

Now both his fists were invisible, and he looked to have six arms and a head on his chest. He was even better than some of the current advanced class at illusions.

He figured the only reason he was still in the intermediate group was because of the way he pretended to have less fighting experience and less strength than his peers. He still never lost a bout, but sometimes he didn't win, settling for pretending he was exhausted and letting the match end as a tie.

He wasn't expected to lose. At the end of the intermediate stage, dancers unconsciously started to draw power from the spheres, borrowing an attribute from their personal sphere.

Light dancers became faster than the eye could see when they stepped into their phase. Earth dancers were said to posses hundreds of attributes instead: strength, resilience, exceptional healing. Shadow dancers could meld with shadows, even disappear into them.

All dancers were stronger than average humans, and faster too, but the strongest were earth dancers, and the fastest light dancers.

Anyway, Garin had nothing against his current opponent, so he let the battle go on long enough for the boy to appear competent before seemingly struggling to finish the battle.

Garin was short of breath by the time the bout ended, but their instructor wasn't even paying attention.

The master seemed concerned as he spoke to the messenger who'd shown up right in the middle of Garin's bout. Garin would have cared nothing for the whole scene, but then he noticed just how often the master stared his way.

He had been learning to recognise when someone thought what they were saying was important, and as the fatigue started to drain he realised he might have just missed some important information. He tuned out all other senses as he'd been practicing to do under Fedrahn.

He hadn't told the scribe, but Garin felt he had an abnormally longer range than the normal human. At least the normal human according to the books. Garin could hear from lots of feet away.

"...will only have one chance to train before this season's tournament. He can join them immediately after, like we'd initially planned," the master was trying to reason with a boy.

The boy only shrugged. "I'm sorry master. But you know how master Talaforn is. He did say it was an order from the friar himself though, so there's that. In any case, I cannot return without him."

The boy looked apologetic, but there was nothing to be done for it, whatever it was. Garin was just about to tune out of the whole thing when the two turned toward him and his group.

"Gather up, children," the master said, and a shocked moment of silence fell on the group as his respectful tone told them what it was about. "Garin, as of today, you are not of our ilk. Go forth in pride, and represent us with honour. We shall look to you for inspiration from today on."

A furious muttering overtook the group, because why not? Normally Garin should have turned his back to them, and they should have bowed to him in respect, but this was unexpected.

Sure, Garin was good. Too good even, but the season was unfavourable at best.

If he was promoted right now, he'd have to take part in exhibition matches with senior apprentices who'd been training for years, some of whom were turning sixteen. He was only nine, and had only spent about one and a half years with this group.

It had been an unspoken expectation that he and about ten others were to be promoted after the exhibition season.

It wasn't that Garin thought he couldn't win, more like doubted he could hold back enough not to disregard Fedrahn and Daye's warning.

As he moved forward, the other boys stared at him with frowns, only remembering to bow when the master cleared his throat. He walked to the master, bowed to him just before the man turned his back to him as well.

The other boys would chase Garin, and he in turn would chase the master. He followed the older apprentice, who he recognised by face, but not by name.