'Fight me, Spencer Jackson. That will be your test - your final test to get into the Noruhito Academy.' Sensei Akira's voice was firm. Stood on the mountaintop plateau somewhere in the Nepalese portion of the Himalayas, the cold, mountain air blowing his yellow kimono behind him, his face was locked into a glare. The pink flower patterns that adorned the kimono's fabric caught Spencer's eye, and he was lost for a second.

A cane struck his cheek. Spencer exclaimed in pain, falling to his knees on the rock and fervently rubbing his cheek. His black hair hung loosely over his shoulders.

Akira rested the cane by his side and regarded Spencer with eyes as hard as stone. 'Up, Jackson. Don't get distracted.' His eyes, narrowed to slits, betrayed no emotion.

Spencer reckoned the old man was enjoying this. Of course he is. Three months now he's tormented us, forcing us through his gruelling training programs. More like torture programs if you ask me...

He picked up his gaze and cast it at his classmates. There were six of them, all stood with backs straight and faces frozen in a firmly neutral look. They wore a variety of dress, from light-fitting tunics and baggy breeches to T-shirts and joggers. They were all deathly silent. No one spoke in Akira's classes.

Spencer looked up at their faces with violet eyes, examining them intently. In each face was a twitch, a near-unnoticeable twitch, that betrayed the true fear they felt. They know once my test is complete, it'll soon be their turn.

He got to his feet and fixed his gaze on Sensei Akira. Though the man was thin and gaunt, he still reverberated an essence of strength and power. Even his eyes, hidden by the thick tapestry of creases adorning his face, shone with a hidden inner resilience.

Spencer gulped.

'Fight me, Spencer Jackson,' Akira repeated, raising his fists into a defensive stance, his kimono billowing behind him.

Spencer slowly raised his fists to mirror Akira's posture. As a seventeen-year-old hulk of muscle, he was already well-trained in fighting and had soared through the preliminary filtering processes for the Academy. However, this was the final test. If he messed up now, everything he had done before would be for nought.

His heart pounded like a drum. He inhaled a lungful of crisp, mountain air, and sighed. The mountain air always calmed him at times like this, when he was expected to fight and prove himself. It had proven useful in many instances - not least the Ganesh Himal Tournament (which he'd placed second in). However, this was, in Spencer's eyes, both a comfort and a worry: yes, the mountain air calmed him considerably, but if there were moments of stress anywhere other than in the mountains, would he be able to pull through?

That's not something to worry about right now. He inhaled a second lungful of mountain air. You have to beat Akira's test. You know what's at stake: your place in the Noruhito Academy. Your chance to protect your family like your dad never could.

As Spencer stared down Akira, shifting weight from foot to foot, his classmates still remained silent. It was slightly off-putting, but he pushed the thoughts out of his mind. Focus. Concentrate. You've never beaten Akira before, but you must do it now! You must, you want to join the Academy!

He'd been working on his technique. He'd mastered the Pulsar Hold ability - or at least he hoped so.

'You ready, Jackson?' Akira's face betrayed no emotion. It was like looking at a mountain, with cold slopes for cheeks and a head of snow-white hair on the peak.

Spencer gritted his teeth, bunching his fists even tighter. 'I'm ready.'

The barest hint of a smirk flashed across Akira's face. 'Good. You know what the win conditions are, don't you?'

Spencer nodded. 'Pulsar Hold for ten seconds.'

'Precisely. Now, let the induction test of Spencer Jackson into the Noruhito Academy begin!'

The gong behind Akira sounded, and it was time.

Stolen novel; please report.

Here goes nothing, I guess. Spencer's heart pounded so hard he felt as if his entire body was shaking.

For the first few seconds, neither made a move. They eyed each other up, shifting stances and positions as they circled round each other, like wolves eying their prey.

Spencer frowned, licking his lips nervously. Why is he not attacking? Should I attack?

He never got a chance to answer those questions as Akira leapt forward with his first strike. It was a flying kick, aimed for Spencer's head. Spencer made to duck, but wasn't quick enough. The leg struck his forehead, drawing blood.

Stars flashed before Spencer's eyes. He dropped to one knee, shaking uncontrollably. His knee gave way, and he slumped, face-up, on the stone. He felt the warm blood rush into his hair and grimaced. There was a soft crunch behind him as Akira landed back on the ground.

'Hmm, this'll be quicker than I thought,' the sensei mused.

Immediately, Spencer felt the invisible hands of Pulsar Hold grip him. Blinding light flashed across the plateau, coming from a huge ball of energy above him - a minimised pulsar*. It appeared in front of him, pressing his chest into the ground.

Cracks began forming around him as the pulsar pushed him deeper into the stone. The pulsar's blinding light seared his retinas; it was a struggle just to keep his eyes open. Every so often, a burst of static would fizz through his brain as the pulsar released radiation into him. The pulsar was baking hot. It was like having a hot iron pressed against his chest**.

Spencer grimaced, teeth glued together by the sheer gravitational force of the pulsar. In his head, he began counting the seconds, keeping track of how long he had left: One...Two...Three...Four...

Each second spent caught in Akira's Pulsar Hold was a second closer to failure. Mum, I'm sorry. He could imagine her, sat at the kitchen table, reading his letter again and again. He'd woken up every morning thinking of her, of how he regretted running away with his granddad to the Himalayas. They'd both known she - like his father - would never have approved of Spencer's decision to apply to train at the Noruhito Academy.

Curse my teenage rebelliousness! Tears welled in his eyes. It had been six seconds and counting since Akira had first put him in the Pulsar Hold and he could barely feel the heat of the pulsar now as it was pressed against his chest.

He sniffed and gritted his teeth. Seven seconds now. No! You cannot just give up so easily! He balled his fists, anger surging within him.

Eight seconds. He reached his hands towards towards the pulsar, grimacing as heat chewed his fingers, though there was no damage visible. The pain...It was so great, but he kept pushing in, forcing himself through the layers of the pulsar.

Nine seconds. He wrapped his fingers around the pulsar's core, roaring at the top of his lungs, at a volume even the most vicious of dogs could only dream of. He tore the pulsar from his chest, and it disappeared, taking with it the blinding light.

Spencer grunted, getting to his feet. His body ached as though every muscle had been trampled upon by a stampede of giants***. As much as he willed it - and by God did he will it - he couldn't move. He roared like a feral beast, skin taut, veins bulging, eyes wide and furious.

Slowly but surely, he inched to his feet, emerging from the Spencer-shaped crater in the plateau. As soon as he stood up, the crater vanished, like a tear in the rain.

His body was smoking. He sighed, looking up at his classmates. They remained as stony-faced as ever, but still watching intently. He'd just broken Akira's Pulsar Hold - something none of them had ever done - and this was the reaction?

He allowed himself to crack a smile. But he knew he couldn't let himself celebrate too soon. Only half of the battle had been won: he still needed to hold Akira in the Pulsar Hold for ten seconds.

He turned and saw Akira, sprawled on the stone. He was sweating - Spencer had never seen him sweat - and his kimono was dishevelled, creased, and dirty. A surge of elation speared through Spencer's heart.

Come on! Painful step by painful step, Spencer inched towards the sensei. He raised his hand and whispered the incantation. At once, blinding light flooded the plateau.

Akira's resistance was minimal at best. Spencer recalled the many times Akira had destroyed his Pulsar Hold, recalled how exhausted he'd been after. The fact Akira was putting up any resistance at all was highly impressive, Spencer felt.

Akira's resistance, though it would have been trifle to a healthy Khai sorcerer, was more than enough to give Spencer - as tired as he was - a difficult time keeping Akira ensnared in his Pulsar Hold. When the tenth second passed, Spencer released the Hold and sighed.

He collapsed to the floor as the gong sounded. A voice from somewhere across the mountains called, 'Welcome, Spencer Jackson, to Noruhito Academy!' Spencer smiled, then, as only the sound of the wind whistling through the rocks echoed across the plateau, his vision drifted to black...

*a pulsar is a type of star that intermittently produces radio-waves. A minimised pulsar is produced by Khai sorcerers as a result of spells from the "Pulsar" strain. It is a pulsar millions times smaller than a normal pulsar, with far less mass and far weaker radioactive capabilities. Under normal conditions, it cannot kill you, though its great mass does mean you are pinned in place.

**I hope you haven't experienced this!

***I can confirm giants are a very real threat to Khai sorcerers

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