All the Pupils in the vicinity had stopped to witness the sudden confrontation. The Fields was no stranger to Arts Duels, but they were usually premeditated and officially organized.

  “This does not need to escalate further, Kazkan. Get me back my knife and I will simply walk away. I’d accept the coins you gained from the sale or an item of similar value that I can exchange for my knife.”

  Colours rose in Olav’s face. He wasn’t used to being talked down to and certainly not by someone he judged as his inferior. Isyd could see the calculations going through Olav’s mind. On one hand, Olav had witnessed first-hand Isyd’s talents and he knew in his heart of hearts that he was outclassed in terms of skills. On the other hand, there were only Isyd and Kewin, both 1st Year and of the 1st Opening, whereas he had four of his friends here, all of them of a higher Opening.

  This seems to decide Olav because he pulled out his wand and gave Isyd a predatory smile.

  “I owe you nothing, Peasant. Leave before you get hurt for good.”

  The boy Isyd had sent to the ground had gotten back up and was fuming with anger. Without waiting for Olav’s signals, he pointed his wand and began casting.

  “[Fire Ball]!”

  Isyd leapt back to avoid the ball of flames as big as his head to hit him. The casting of the [Spell] had been fast, but Isyd had anticipated the attack by feeling the Grace being gathered and listening to its Song.

  Isyd turned to Kewin. “Go away and do not interfere!” he said sharply.

  He had no time to check if the boy obeyed him; his attention was drawn to Olav’s friends who were all casting [Spells]. The girl of 2nd Opening was the first to finish.

  “[Hail]!” she shouted. From the air, a dozen balls of ice and snow materialized and flew in Isyd’s direction. The aim was haphazardly and Isyd ducted to avoid the projectiles.

  Isyd needed a weapon. He felt the weight of his palcat in the folds of his darkveil, but he didn’t want to risk breaking it further. He extended his right hand and without bothering to draw the [Commands], he cast an [Ice Spell].

  A long staff made out of ice, similar to his palcat but twice longer, appeared in his palm. Isyd rushed forward, heading for the girl first.

  Her eyes went wide as she saw him run in her direction and the new [Spell] she was casting fizzled out in a moment of instinctive panic. Isyd did not let this chance go amiss.

  He swung his ice staff and slammed it on her stretched hand holding the wand. The girl yelped in pain and dropped it. Isyd followed with a low blow aimed at her knees and swept her off her feet. His senses perked up at that instant and he jumped sideways to avoid another [Fire Ball] that had been thrown at his back. Nimble and swift, he dodged a second one and ran down his assailants. He slammed the butt of his staff upward in one guy’s chin then spun on one heel and kick the second one hard in the guts. This sent the boy on his knees, moaning, and Isyd kicked his wand out of his reach.

  “[Fire Ring]!”

  Isyd ducked just as flames hurled above his head. The [Spell] had come from his left. Isyd dashed at the boy of the 3rd Opening, dodged another attack by rolling on the ground and as he got back up, threw a handful of dirt in the boy’s face. Momentarily blinded, he couldn’t dodge the sweep of Isyd’s staff that knocked him out. As he had done for the rest of them, Isyd reached down and disarmed him.

  Finally, he turned toward Olav who stared at him furiously. The young noble pointed his wand and shouted. “[Burn]!”

  A jet of bright flames erupted from the tip of the wand. Isyd threw himself in extremis on the side, feeling the heat of the fire licking at his heels. He’d been taken by surprise. Olav had not been required to cast any [Commands] which meant that his Idpulse with this [Spell] was high.

  Case in point, Olav aimed his wand and effortlessly called once more for the jet of flames. Out of options, Isyd extended his arm and gathered Grace.

  “[Deflect]!”

   A wall of Wind burst in front of Isyd and deflected the flames in two the same way a stone split a stream. Isyd had tried not to use the Arts, but Olav did not leave in him any choice. With his finger, he began casting: the Grace  was [STORED] then twice [SHAPED], first into Wind then into the [Spell] itself before finally being [RELEASED].

  “[Pierce]!”

  With an accuracy honed by experience, Isyd aimed at the centre of Olav’s jet of flames. A gust of wind, thin and precise like a needle, pierced through the fire and knocked the wand out of Olav’s hand. It spiralled in the air before landing three paces behind him, leaving the young noble defenceless. He stared at his naked hand dumbfounded and trying to make sense of what had just happened.

  Isyd discarded his ice staff and slowly walk toward him. Olav took a hesitant step backwards, his face a mask of fear and uncertainty. His eyes suddenly moved on something behind him and Isyd spun just in time to see another [Fire Ball] racing towards him. Without thinking, Isyd cast one of his own and the two balls of flames exploded on contact, reducing the grass underneath into ashes. The boy of 3rd Opening had gotten back up on shaky legs and managed to launch the [Spell] even without his wand.

  “[Wind Swipe],” Isyd called out and a gust of wind raced across the space between them and knocked his legs under him.

  Isyd turned back to face Olav. His eyes were dark and cold and sent chills down the boy’s spine. “Stay away, y-you peasant!” he shouted. “D-don’t you know who I am? I am Kazkan, damn you!”

  “You shouldn’t have touched my knife, Kazkan. You demanded this.”

  Isyd was about to cast another [Spell] when his senses perked up. Suddenly, he lost his footing and felt the earth sink beneath him. Only his sharp reflexes allowed him to jump back before it swallowed him. The dirt had turned into quicksand out of nowhere, but Isyd had no time to think since a Wind attack was rushing on him from his left.

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  “[Deflect]!”

  The wall of Wind clashed with the [Wind Spell] and both exploded in a resounding WHOOSH! Isyd extended his hand to launch an attack of his own, but the dirt at his feet seemed to come alive. Like a snake, wet clay wrapped around his legs, arms and chest, then turn solid a fraction of a second later. Isyd’s body was entirely immobilized except for his head.

  From the crowd that had gathered, a young man stepped out. Tall and handsome, it was as if the Academy uniform had been designed with him in mind. His long, golden curls were warm and radiant under the afternoon sunshine, his blue eyes were cold and disdainful as he assessed the scene in front of him. On his chest, Isyd noticed the insignia that marked him as a Pupil of the 6th Opening, the gilded bracelet of flames that marked him as a member of the Crimson Gold, but most importantly Isyd saw the raised wand pointed in his direction.

  “Despite what many Pupils may think, the Fields is not a lawless zone…” the young man said in a soothing voice. “Do you not know that Duels are prohibited outside of the assigned time and area? Your attitudes are unseemly, Juniors…”

  Olav was the first to respond. “Senior Lwieserce! You must understand, this Peasant attacked me and my friends for no reason. We were simply defending ourselves…”

  Lwieserce gave the boy a disdainful look. “And what a job you did, Young Kazkan. How can you claim to be part of the Crimson Gold while being humiliated as such by one of your peers? How far have we fallen…”

  Olav Kazkan blushed bright red and lowered his head. “He took us by surprise, Senior…”

  “My attack was not unjustified,” Isyd said loud and clear to grab everyone’s attention. “I came to take back what was stolen from me. Olav Kazkan had admitted to the thief but—”

  Suddenly, the clay snaring Isyd constricted further around his windpipe, choking him. He growled in pain, but now he couldn’t even move his head anymore.

  “I do not remember allowing you to speak, Young One…”

  Isyd met the cold gaze of Lwieserce. I see… That’s how you guys are playing it…

  With a bit of effort, Isyd managed to wiggle his fingers ever so slightly as to touch the solid stone that was immobilizing him. It would have been easy to break it off had it been natural clay, but it wasn’t. Still, Isyd had listened to the Song of the Grace as the [Spell] was cast and he had now an intuitive understanding of how it worked.

  From the tip of his fingers, Isyd gathered Grace and infused the stone with Water Essence. There was a bit of resistance, followed by some tremors in the [Spell], then all at once, it resumed a liquid state of mud and collapsed all around him, freeing him. Murmurs of wonder and excitement spread in the crowd: a Pupil of the 1st Opening had managed to break the [Spell] of a Pupil of the 6th.

  Isyd stepped out of the pond of mud, not breaking eye contact with Lwieserce.

  “You didn’t allow me to speak, but I will speak all the same. Olav Kazkan stole something precious for me and sold it away for a quick buck. I came here to hold him accountable!”

  “Lies!” Olav shouted.

  “You pretend innocence now? Has House Kazkan no shame?”

  “Silence.”

  The voice of Lwieserce was soft but demanded obeyance. Silence fell on the crowd like a lead blanket.

  “What is your name, Young One?”

  “Isyd Wybrany, 1st Year and 1st Opening.”

  “Your accusations are serious ones, Junior Wybrany. You are accusing one of your fellow Pupils of theft… But have you discussed it with one of your Tutors? Your Senior Pupils, perhaps? Have you explored the recourses offered by the Academy for such situations? Do you even have proofs to advance? From my understanding, you simply rushed here and attacked Junior Kazkan, trying to make justice for yourself, by yourself. This is not the way, Junior Wybrany… The Academy does not tolerate barbarians within their walls.”

  Isyd clenched his fists. “Olav Kazkan left me no recourse but for this one. He arranged the theft in such a way that I felt pressured by time to see the matter resolved as soon as possible. This is why I didn’t reach out for the Tutors’ help immediately. Why didn’t I ask for my Seniors’ help? Because I am Ringless, a well-known fact by Kazkan. I suspect this to be the reason why he attacked me in the first place. What does it say of the Crimson Gold that their younger members are nothing more than bullies? Your disregard for my case shows me that his attitude is not that far removed from his Seniors… Am I currently witnessing honour among thieves?”

  For a long minute, Lwieserce stared at this Young Pupil who had just insulted him in all the ways but directly. A corner of his lips finally turned upward and he shook his head.

  “Your heart thrums with Vigour, Junior Wybrany,” he said in a low, amused voice. “This a quality that we wish to cultivate here at the Academy. For this reason, I will let today’s incident slide. I will not report on your actions or your… questionable words. It would be unseemly of me to discipline a Pupil of the 1st Opening…”

  He turned to face Olav and his friends that slowly gathered around him. His voice turned harsher. “The spectacle is over! I will kindly ask for everyone to disperse. Junior Kazkan, you and I have words to share, I believe…”

  Olav Kazkan paled but nodded. The crowd scattered at the Lwieserce orders. Not everyone was as crazy as Isyd to confront someone of his rank.

  Isyd kept on staring at the retreating back of Lwieserce until he saw him go back inside the Academy. He heard Kewin approaching him. His eyes were wide and his breath came out quick.

  “Good Grace! That was crazy! How in the world did you do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “You won in one versus five! There was one guy in the 3rd Opening in their midst! And you almost didn’t use any [Spells]! You were so fast and strong! One second you were here, the second later you were there, hitting them and dodging them as if you knew what they were casting before they were even done! And then… and then Senior Lwieserce came in and he snared you but then you broke his [Spell] and then…”

  Kewin seemed to calm himself as he spoke. Isyd had not moved from where he stood, eyes in the distance.

  “Hmm… er… I’m sorry I didn’t help you… It’s just that… well, it’s not that I didn’t want to, but—”

  “I asked you not to intervene, didn’t I?” Isyd cut him. “I knew what I was doing and you helped me by not jumping in. Please, do not apologize for anything, Kewin Udachur. In fact, I feel like I should be thanking quite a lot for the help you provided me today.”

  Kewin blushed. “I-it was nothing! I’m glad I could help in any way…”

  Silence stretched for a minute between the two of them before Kewin broke it again.

  “We couldn’t recover your knife… All of this was for nothing in the end, wasn’t it…?”

  “I wouldn’t exactly say that…”

  Isyd pulled out of his darkveil two leather pouches that clanged with the coins they contained.

  Kewin’s eyes went wide and he took a step back. “No way… How? When?”

  Isyd’s smile was wicked. “They should think better than simply leaving it hanging at their waist, after all…”

  “Y-you stole from them!”

  “I did. The same way they stole from me. Let today be a lesson for you, Kewin Udachur. There is no honour among thieves!”