Boom… boom… boom.

It was the beginning of Fiveday. Tenthé was enjoying a flask of juice and an endless supply of muffins as he sat in one of the chairs in the lounge, watching Elishua pound on his door. She had a very economic style that provided maximum power with minimum effort. He heartily approved. If he was ever stupid enough to challenge her to a non-magical battle, she would be a formidable foe. Although he was an expert in quite a number of fighting techniques, a zero-weight who fought against a heavyweight would be at a significant disadvantage, in spite of what was popular in tales.

He mused over how he would handle it. Probably tire her out by repeatedly advancing to the rear as fast as he could. Maybe bruise her fists with his face a few times.

Really, his best bet would be to use his speed to avoid her punches and grabs, hit her in the knees and ankles, or slash his hand with his teeth and get blood in her eyes. Then what? She was big, but in very good shape, which meant she would be quick. Even a glancing blow from her would take him out.

As he thought over various other approaches, the pounding went on. She must do hours of exercise to have that kind of stamina.

“What are you doing?” The Envoy asked from beside him.

“Observing a master at her work. She’s really very good. I wouldn’t like to fight her without advantages.”

The Envoy took a muffin. “I see what you mean. Formidable.”

“Yeah.”

Something had alerted Elishua. She stopped and turned, her eyes narrowing when she found the two of them watching and eating muffins.

“How long?” She sighed. “Never mind. Let’s go.”

Tenthé got up.

“Brush the crumbs off yourself!” Elishua ordered.

“Why?”

“What? Because!”

Tenthé thought it over.

“Okay.” He did the best he could.

Breakfast with the Magisters was as exciting as ever. Tenthé asked Tomas if he should to meet with Isabell’s family. Tomas said that he’d look into it. He agreed there were likely ulterior reasons and to refer any more requests to him.

Tenthé also asked about his blood being given to Magister Baeuerin. Tomas had told him he had released only enough to take the test. Any extra was stored in a special vault guarded by layers of wards and Guardians, who had orders to destroy everything in case of a break in.

Tenthé was somewhat relieved, although that only meant his blood was safe-er. Since blood magic was powerful, he had a simple charm to despoil any that left his control. When he was unconscious, though, it hadn’t done its job. He’d have to take some time to figure out why, to make sure it couldn’t happen again. And deal with what they had in the vault.

That was something for later; today he had Tactics, History, and Mystic Studies, then he was free!

After the not-even-a-little-bit exciting breakfast with the Magisters was over, Tenthé made his way to Tactics, which he had managed to miss up ‘til now. When he found that a number of his dorm-mates were also in the class, he joined their noisy group.

They told him he hadn’t missed much. Magister Graf had been busy, so the previous classes had been taught by someone else. He had explained that the substitute Magister’s specialty was ancient battles, which he discussed before enthusiastically reading passages to the class from a book he’d written. Everyone was somewhat confused, in that the lectures had not addressed tactics. More, they had been about whether or not the battles had even occurred.

The clock glyph bonged, the door closed, and Magister Graf entered from the small entrance at the front, stepped up to the podium, and began to speak.

“Tactics is all about avoiding bashing each other over the head with a stick. That will be all. Good day, come again, bye-bye.”

Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

The undercurrent of talking stopped as the Magister exited the room after that short speech. Everyone stared at each other, not sure what was going on.

Eventually, some boy from the back of the class got up and walked to the front. Stepping behind the podium, he asked, “Uh… anyone have any ideas?”

Silence greeted this question.

Tenthé pushed his attention glyph.

The boy looked at him, “Yeah?”

“This might sting.”

Tenthé ate the magic, and the boy disappeared, leaving a slightly shaken Magister Graf in his place. It took a moment for him to recover enough to look at Tenthé.

“Hm. I guess I’ll have to change my plans to deal with, uh, some unexpected competence.”

Although a little unsteady, the Magister rallied and addressed the class.

“So, can anyone tell me what I just… attempted to do?”

A few glyphs lit up. Magister Graf pointed at Nikolaus.

He stood.

“You, or a simulacrum, started the class, then left us on our own. We were probably supposed to figure out why, while you messed around with what we were doing. Maybe you had other surprises set up, as well.”

He turned and indicated Tenthé. “My man here, though, seems to be able to see through your magic and your plan was trashed.”

He sat.

Another desk lit up. The magister pointed.

A girl stood and added, “I think the kid, here, probably upset your backup plans, too. Since you were caught off guard, it’s obvious that you don’t know what he can do.”

“Very astute. Most of you probably can’t remember, but the College sent out an announcement about him. I admit to not giving it much credence.

“But, this may be a better lesson than the one I’d planned. Anyone?”

He pointed at someone in the front, who stood and answered, “Uh, sometimes all your plans go into the crapper.”

“Elegantly put. What do we do now?”

Nikolaus yelled out, “Hit him with a stick!”

Everyone laughed.

“Let me continue with a summary of what this class will, and will not, cover; with no promises that there aren’t going to be more surprises. Attempts at surprises.

“Tactics is a broad subject that covers everything the more focused subjects don’t. We analyze the obvious things, like past battles, how they were planned, what actually happened, and what could have been done differently. We will also look at espionage and information gathering, logistics, which is how to deal with resources, and several other topics. It isn’t only about battles, but is more about anything where there are sides. Even when you don’t realize there are sides, like in a family.

“And how to handle setbacks. Today is a prime example.”

He continued on with many more details, which Tenthé may possibly have tuned out for.

As was becoming normal, at the end of class, the Magister asked Tenthé to remain behind. Once the other students had left, Magister Graf addressed him.

“We haven’t talked much, which is a failure on my part. I am not sure if you realize the impact you’ve had on the College. Your easy defeat of Magister Lang, the revelation about the old gods, and the general disruptions that tend to follow you around. The list is lengthy.

“Arguably, we have been complacent. Most of us believed we had a good understanding of everything, but you have shown, time and again, that we don’t. We momentarily forgot about the basis of Magic. Nothing is static, things change.

“I fear you are showing us that we are even less ready for the Horde than I would have thought, but that’s a bit of a different subject.”

As the Magister spoke, Tenthé was coming to the realization that something was going on. Magister Graf was very smooth, too smooth. He never made a little slip.

This was exactly how the leader of the Assassins had presented himself. Somehow, he could make you believe that whatever killing they had been paid to carry out was entirely justified.

As he mulled his feelings over, he realized he was beginning to dislike Magister Graf.

The years had taught Tenthé to keep emotion off his face. Even so, Magister Graf picked up something and trailed off.

“Damn it, you’re a hard case.” he said, baldly. “What’s going on, boy? I’m receiving reports that the Guardians are congregating. They’re worried.”

Tenthé had noted them too, but it was just another thing in the background. He couldn’t talk as smoothly as the Magister, so he did the opposite: he maintained a stony silence while remaining hyper-aware.

“My plan had been to entice you into majoring in Tactics; like Elishua and the Envoy. I’m not sure of that, anymore.”

He stopped as Tenthé backed away, moving up the tiers of desks, away from the front. When he reached the top, he slipped out of the room. Slowly, the door swung shut behind him.

A moment later, the little door at the front opened and Tomas entered.

“I warned you that wasn’t going to work. Let me talk to him. I still think he should take your class; it’ll give him perspective, the big picture.”

“You realize that will make him even more dangerous?”

Tomas laughed. “More dangerous? Not sure that’s possible. I’m sure the boy has been hiding his true capabilities. He’s a lot more than he seems.”

Magister Graf shrugged.

They left, still talking. After a moment, Tenthé rose from where he’d been stealthed against the back wall. He exited.

The Guardians watched it all.