Patient suffers from wild spasms of agony, followed by convulsions and loss of consciousness. This is the third one this week and already I’ve recorded two fatalities this month. I’ve noticed that each patient seems to have their mana channels damaged to a varying degree, but I am unable to identify the underline cause of it and thus – no permanent treatment is available. Direct infusions of mana seem to alleviate the symptoms for a time, but a loss of effectiveness has been noticed with each subsequent treatment which forces us to do them in ever smaller intervals. I’m afraid that eventually – the treatment might have no effect.
-Victor Schmidt, doctor’s notes.
Globes of translucent light floated around, casting a pale gloom onto the lonely pieces of furniture – the few chairs, the sofa, and the wide desk that stood almost oppressively at the end of the narrow room. Its solid frame flanked by towering shelfs that stretched along the length of the walls, stuffed full of books, piles of rolled parchment and dust. Only two breathing entities seemed to be present here – a man of long, grey hair, its straight strands reaching to waist level, while an equally grey full beard covered most of his facial features. He sat behind the desk with authority, frail skeletal fingers gripping the opposite corners of the desk as he leaned on it, eyes sunken in deep shadows, only occasionally illuminated by the passing globes of light, stared sternly over the piles of papers and books, straight at the second and final guest. A youth that was slumped over on a chair on the opposite side of the desk. Tattered, stained clothing. A head of short brown hair. Eyes closed, he lay there in the chair completely oblivious to the lingering tension, a few grunts and mumbled let loose as if to give voice to whatever dreams haunted him. Yet, as if on mark, the young man suddenly shot up as if startled awake, eyes wide open, narrowing suspiciously the next second – only to quickly settle onto the silent old man.
“And who the heck are you supposed to be?” – And without batting an eye, the youth inquired in a less than polite manner.
It did not seem possible, but the recipient’s features managed to shift into an even sterner visage, while the shifting shadow cast onto the curtains behind grew ever larger.
“It seems the night patrol didn’t manage to beat some manners into you, boy. Shame.” – He straightened, and before the youth could counter in any way – as his lips parted half-way – spoke in a voice that seemed both ear-numbing and silent – “I am your headmaster, little pup, and I shall be addressed with the respect I deserve!”
“Headmaster?” – Weirdly, instead of mirroring the raised emotion, Billy latched onto that little bit of info, head tilting to the side inquisitively.
“Ah, funny you should raise that question. You do have a point, Billy Snowcone” – The old man seemed to deflate almost instantly, shifting to an almost pleasant disposition as he leaned back somewhat, a barely identifiable smile tugging at his withered lips. Yet for all the ease with which he carried himself suddenly, the tone in which the name was uttered echoed like a rumbling volcano – “Seeing as I have warned you. Repeatedly, I may be relieved of that duty towards you quite soon” – He continued, upper body shifting forward, while the long sleeves of his robe brushed over the table just as his hands bent, elbows leaning into the table, fingers interlocking – “As per the iron clad rules of our Magic Academy, once a student violates them three times, he is given a final choice. Be expelled or face a student two levels above in magical combat. Victory, being the only way of washing away the shame you bring to the Academy”
The old man explained almost with visible pleasure, only to give pause once it seemed to be over, eyes on the youth who seemed to be lost for words.
“Billy? My name is Billy Snowcone..?” – Seemingly, in a daze, the youth seemed to mumble under his breath, eyes glancing down at his worn necklace – “You just had to enforce the contract now…” – He mumbled.
“Rules are rules, Billy. And you’ve been given plenty leniency as is” – Another globe of light passed the two, its’ light gently sliding over the headmaster’s wrinkled features, only to reveal barred teeth through lips that were parted in a full-blown sneer.
“And judging by your abilities, I dare ask, why are you not running off to pack your things, young master Billy?” – An obviously sarcastic question thrown like topping on the cake.
Billy raised his eyebrow and slowly stood up, only to flinch slightly – the fall in expression flashing by quickly, obscured by the darkness.
“How about you go and get your sickly dog I’m supposed to put down, instead?” – He shot back with disdain, turning around to leave the dark office as if the conversation was over.
“You, w-what?” – The question caught the headmaster off guard, as he gaped at the retreating youth’s back, the disrespect completely missed.
“You heard me. I accept the challenge. Arrange it old man” – Billy added with a smirk, flashed just as his figure disappeared behind a closing door – the only obvious exit point from the gloomy room.
A loud smack echoed moments later, as the old man slapped the table with an open palm and as if called – the bold youth opened the door from the other side once again and peeked through with furrowed brows.
“When is the match taking place? Because I like to sleep-in” – He asked with slight worry in his tone.
“Tomorrow at midday, you obnoxious brat! Don’t even think I’ll be going easy on you when picking the opponent!” – The headmaster croaked loudly, only to slip into a coughing fit moments later – “Get!” – Barely managing to squeeze in the last word with a dismissive and aggressive wave of a hand.
The door to the headmaster’s office slammed shut for good, this time. With a confused daze, Billy stood in a wide corridor that branched out into different directions, a narrow red carpet covering the center of the walkway. The moody youth stared off to the left and to the right, seemingly undecided on the direction he should take. With a groan, he twisted a shoulder till the bones clicked, a hand trailing to the side to inspect the damages from the recent pummeling. The way his features twitched and twisted with every grope said enough.
It was at this point that his eyes caught a pair of youth’s approaching from the left - a male and a female, The female walked two steps ahead of the male, her knee-length skirt fluttering from energetic steps, while the upper body was covered by a jacket, neatly buttoned up by what looked like a blouse. White, seemed to be the primary color of the clothes, red coming in lines over it. She was on the short-side, her long-auburn hair dancing as she approached – grass-colored eyes staring intently at Billy from a friendly, round face that looked almost childishly naïve.
Behind her and seemingly keen on staying that way, was the male. A tall, well-built fellow in black pants and a jacket of the same color – which was, just as with the female – buttoned over a shirt, which was the only thing white. Mirroring his companion’s style, red lines cut across his whole attire, though sticking only to the left side of his body. He was a fellow that looked solemn beyond his years - narrow lips pressed into hard lines, while plain brown eyes stared sternly from bushy brows that seemed to be made for frowns. A look no doubt complimented by the short, neatly kept dark hair that covered his scalp. Truly, a fellow that radiated control and strictness.
“Billy! Thank god you’re ok! We were so worried that those brutes broke something while man-handling you so!” – The female exclaimed once close enough to be heard. Billy could only frown, eyes carefully inspecting the two.
“Speak for yourself” – The male behind grumbled, but not silently enough to not be heard. These two were indeed two opposite sides of the same coin.
“Oh stop it, Jonathan! Everyone knows you care!” – The female waved a hand dismissively.
“Everyone except me” – Jonathan mumbled to that, yet continued to follow.
“What did the Headmaster say? Are you going to be fine? They’re not planning on expelling you or anything, are they?” – Yet the comment was left unheard, as she resumed her questioning of the formerly addressed youth.
For a moment or two, Billy observed both with a raised eyebrow.
“They might try tomorrow, once I’m done destroying whatever challenger is thrown at me” – He then haughtily shot back, chin rising in tandem with that bold declaration.
A number of expressions seemed to shift through her face, the foremost being surprise, soon to be followed by concern. Yet in between all that, for a fraction of a second, it did seem like something aching to distaste flashed.
“Oh no, Billy, you didn’t! If they gave you a choice between leaving and a mage-duel, you should have chosen your well-being! You and your pride!” – She huffed.
“Rosana” – With a calming hand on her shoulder, Jonathan finally stepped into the conversation, narrowed eyes turning to regard Billy sternly. His female colleague seemed to deflate somewhat upon contact – “And how, do you imagine, will you survive a duel? Did you forget that your family will not supply you any more funds? And even if it did, so what?” – In a berating tone he continued – “When will you learn that money isn’t a solution to everything? You can’t even properly wield magical devices!”
Billy’s brows furrowed in protest, lips twisting into a scowl.
“Question my competence, will you…” – He mumbled – Magical devices?” – Only to voice a question, his scowl replaced by curiosity.
“Oh no, Jonathan! They beat him till he lost parts of his memory!” – Rosana exclaimed in exaggerated concern, eyes turning to regard the stern youth.
“He’s just being an asshole again, Rosana. There’s no way he...” – The youth expressed his skepticism.
“Humor me” – But Billy interrupted in a cool tone that brooked no argument.
“Excuse me?” – The two froze up and turned to regard their colleague with raised eyebrows. It was Jonathan who regained his wits first.
“I have lost my memory. Humor me” – The brown-haired youth repeated.
“Oh come on, Billy! That’s no way to treat your friends!” – Surprisingly, Rosana exclaimed in exasperation, her playful attitude all but replaced by it.
“Wait. You seriously don’t remember anything about magical devices?” – And the role of the gullible fool was quickly filled by the male co-star, as the tall youth inquired with one eyebrow raised, a hand raised to the neck – brushing a large, crescent shaped necklace with his fingertips. The necklace was made out of golden material, its’ surface decorated in shining blue lines – trailing like a labyrinth, till it reached the very center, where a round purple jewel seemed to rest. Black smoke floating within it.
It was only now that Billy’s attention was fully captured by the jewelry, or to be more precise – by the purple jewel.
“Ah. I see now” – He mumbled. His brows furrowed further -“You’re not mages” – And added aptly.
“Not yet, obviously. But I really don’t want to hear that from you” – Jonathan quickly shot back, his brow decorated with a furrow of his own.
“Yeah, last time I checked, Jonathan got way better marks than you in the device manipulation class!” – Rosana added defensively. Seems like it was a two versus one scenario. Billy exposed his teeth in a vicious smile.
“Oh? Why don’t you show me” – He then taunted with the same smile.
“Show you what?” – Jonathan inquired with slight disbelief in his voice.
“How good you are” – The disbelief was visibly swept aside as soon as Billy clarified with a voice dripping mockery.
“That’s not funny…” – With furrowed brows, Rosana chastised, only to be lightly pushed by the black-haired youth, as he stepped up to face Billy, eyes regarding him sternly – “Don’t regret this later”
The agitator only smirked, eyes now completely glued to the shiny jewelry, mesmerized even.
“Stop it you two! This is not…” – Rosana attempted one last time, only to quiet down as an invisible force rippled through the air with Jonathan at its epicenter. Clothes rustling, the lad extended his right hand – open palm forward, towards the opponent. The purple jewel shone slightly as he did so, the color mirrored by the markings around it and just as it did – blue energy materialized with tangible force from the extended appendage – flying towards the stationary target in a swirling vortex, an echoing howl following its’ journey.
Yet it did not reach the intended target. Not in the way it seemed to be intended, at least. Like going into a vacuum, the vortex seemed to collapse into a spiral that got sucket into Billy, who – hands out-stretched, head bent back – seemed to be enjoying himself quite a bit. The moment didn’t last long – for the spell seemed to shatter midway, the force of it enough to push Billy back – staggering him. With a grunt, the youth backed away, hand shooting out to the wall for support. Contrary to circumstance, his cheeks seemed to have gained some color and overall – the youth seemed to be a little less worse-for-wear when comparing to his previous disposition. Yet the youth displayed a deep frown, eyes darting about somewhere far, instead of directing displeasure towards the opponent. It took him a moment, but he soon straightened out, the frown now less pronounced, mixed with an expression of contemplation, a hand rubbing directly under his chest.
“What…what just happened?” – Eyes widened as if they’ve witnessed something out of this world, Rosana mumbled almost rhetorically.
“Did you get your hands on an absorber?” – Jonathan was quicker to recover, as his surprise quickly shifted back into teenage angst – left hand lowering towards his waist.
“An absorber?” – Billy shot back with a raised eyebrow.
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“How long do you think it will last? And what will you do when you’re faced by someone that prefers self-enhancing magic? – The counter-question disregarded, Jonathan proceeded with the assumption, his posture shifting into a more combative one, as if he was getting ready to leap at Billy. A transparent glow enveloped the youth’s body and just as it did, he charged at Billy with way more speed than one would expect.
Just as before, inches from Billy the magic flickered out of existence – but the fist was still there. And just when it was about to make contact – it stopped.
“See? You might get the opportunity to absorb the magic, but the fist would still hit you. An absorber isn’t a universal solution” – Grinning victoriously, Jonathan withdrew the fist, his words gaining the tone of a lecturer.
“This is too tense for my nerves, I thought you two were really at it…” – Rosana exhaled, a hand lightly tapping the center of her chest in relief.
“Nonsense. We’re childhood friends” – The aggressor then said with a shrug, only to regard Billy with a grin that seemed suspiciously crooked – “I just wanted to help you understand the situation you’re in, before it’s too late”
Silently, Billy looked back at the former opponent as if weighting the validity of his words.
“I appreciate the gesture. Now could you two please escort me to my…room?” – He finally said in an even tone, without pressing the matter, the request angling into an uncertain question towards the end.
Even though it elicited an exchange of raised eyebrows from the two companions, quite tactfully, neither one raised any questions. Instead, they did as asked in quite the friendly manner, even exchanging a few funny stories as a means of small talk. Something about how a fellow student bragged to everyone about getting a new magical device – a gauntlet – and how good it was, only to have it shatter into pieces upon use. Apparently – a cleverly made imitation sold for way more than it was worth. Throughout the conversation, Billy remained silent and withdrawn, eyebrows furrowed in contemplation, his steps taken lightly and in an even, unhurried tempo in pursuit of the two guides.
“Here we are, your majesty” – Jonathan proclaimed in an exaggerated manner just as they approached the last door in a long series of doors – present on both sides of a relatively narrow hallway – his back slightly bent, while a hand politely guided his friend through. Rosana snickered at that – “Will there be anything else?”
“No. You may go” – Was all that Billy said as he quickly went through the doorway and closed it behind him.
“Well played…” – A testament to how thin the door was, Jonathan’s last words still managed to slip through the wooden frame, the comment left unchallenged as Billy did not seem to be in the mood to capitalize on the small victory, as he fell to his knees almost powerlessly, chest heaving from heavy panting, while one hand clutched at his tunic. A loud click of the tongue echoing across the empty room.
“Curses! The more I use magic, the less magical power is left within my body and there’s not enough of it around to recharge my reserves! It’s like some god forsaken desert for magicians” – He hissed with frustration -“I feel nothing around me, nothing but dead air. It’s as if the mana was sucked out completely…if only there was…” – The sentence broke away at that point. With a sudden twist of the head, Billy turned his gaze towards an end table near a bed, only to quickly crawl towards it on all fours. Hands grasped at the wood, only to clutch the handle and pull. Within - a pile of purple stones, their surface glistening in the light. Billy picked up one of them, finger lightly brushing the cold, hard surface.
“Crystallized mana, I should have guessed…” – Billy mumbled, a spark of realization in his eyes. He held the shiny stone between his fingers, eyes drilling into it, only to soon place it into an open palm of his other hand – “…am I destined to gnaw at these pathetic little things for sustenance like a rat in the gutters?” – The jewel disappeared as the hand holding it closed into a fist. A flash of purple light slipped through the clenched fingers for a brief moment, only to sink into the appendage and shatter into a hundred threats – trailing along the arm and over the body. Billy’s head leaned back, while a pleased sigh escaped his lips – soon twisting into a happy smirk – “Ah” – He gasped – “Much better”
Once the little light-show came to an end, Billy’s figure seemed to relax, gaze now drawn back to the clenched fist, which soon opened-up revealing nothing but a pile of black dust. He flexed the hand, the dust slipping out and drifting to the floor from the movement – “The mana canals are an absolute mess, though. I guess I’ll have to prioritize fixing that problem” – He then looked at the open drawer once again, eyes sliding over the pile of purple stones – “But if I’ll want to regain the power I once held, this lack of mana problem will need to be addressed” – Eyes narrowed at the last words, staring off into the darkness as if the cause of it was present there.
With a relaxed hand, Billy picked up another mana stone – “No time like the present” – and with those words, he bent down and pushed aside the red carpet, only to reveal the wood beneath. Carefully, he placed the purple jewel against the ground, only to freeze up for a mere fracture of a second – but only until the drawing tool began shining. Once it did, the artist began to draw – hand moving in precise circles and lines, forming a complicated rune that shone in a pale purple, illuminating parts of the unlit room. Slowly, time trickled by, and the drawing increased in its’ complexity proportionally to its’ size – a quarter of the floor now taken up by it. Billy burned through four pieces of crystalized mana as he drew, the leftover ash dancing atop unseen air currents, while the occasional bead of sweat soaked within wooden floor. Yet finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the driven young magician straightened his back and wiped off the sweat from his forehead – a black smear left behind.
With an audible sigh, Billy picked up a handful of purple stones from the open drawer – emptying the majority of the stockpiled resources. Carefully, he stepped into the middle of the glowing drawing and sat down, placing the pile of stones in front. He closed his eyes.
And just as he did, the large rune began glowing brighter with every passing moment – the purple light filling the small room to the brim, seeping through the bottom of the door and into the corridor outside. Visibly, the pile of purple stones seemed to melt, the gathering pool of gluttonous liquid slowly spreading all over the large rune. Eventually, all the stones seemed to have melted like butter and just as the liquid was about to overflow, it suddenly froze up and soon enough, started flowing back towards the center, like some drainage pipe. Yet, instead of draining away beneath Billy, the liquid started rolling onto him, as if intent to consume the meditating magician. Time passed slowly, and the liquid continued its climb until Billy was covered in it from head to toe, the glowing juices obscuring him completely. He sat there, still unmoving, unfazed by the unpleasant-looking phenomenon and as he did – white, vein-like branches shined through the liquid shackles, spreading all over his body in complicated networks that seemed to reach to every corner, only to eventually lead right back into the center of his chest. A gaping maw of impenetrable darkness that shone with hunger as bottomless as the void itself. As soon as the hole appeared, the purple liquid was quickly sucked into it like noodles from a ramen bowl in an attempt to satiate that hunger. Slowly, the purple light faded and so did the rune underneath Billy, followed soon by the white veins and the black hole, which now seemed to have a few specks of purple swirl within like in some sort of a soup bowl. Billy opened his eyes, tired air slipping out through parted lips.
“Much better”
*******
The sun was high-up in the sky and the arena-like structure was seeing at least half of its seats filled with shouting people. Rows of seats going upward in a stair-like accent surrounded a large open field, with a square-shaped platform of white stone-like material smack in the middle of it. Two gateways carved-out beneath the seating platforms - at the very bottom of their foundation - were the only visible paths of entry or exit into the center field and Billy just happened to step through one of them. His expression set into one of disinterest, lips set twisted in a barely visible smirk, while a glint of mischief shone in his eyes. He was led by two elderly figures in extravagant robes – both covered in various pieces of armor and jewelry, a purple stone set into each one. The one on the right, was the already familiar Headmaster – lips nothing but thin lines, while his gaze stared off towards the opposite side of the field – where the other gateway awaited. Through it, a couple of figures were seen exiting its’ rounded passage-way and leisurely approaching – a tall, bulky youth with a full-head of hair, like tongues of fire a few steps ahead.
“This is your last chance to turn back, Billy. I cannot assure your safety once the duel begins, you know that” – For all his severity, the Headmaster, nonetheless, gave an almost reproachful warning.
“Your concern is appreciated, but unnecessary” – Was all the youth said.
“Stubborn child” – Concern soon turned to agitation, as the Headmaster spat.
Yet all Billy did, was smirk in reply, eyes set on the red-haired youth whose condescendence became more pronounced the clearer his features became, as the distance decreased. The two met at the center of the stone platform like gladiators – surrounded by excited cheering, gazed locked in an invisible battle, expressions displaying their own sets of emotions. Yet one was undeniably shared by both – confidence.
“Who knew I’d have the pleasure of facing-off the exceedingly special, Billy Snowcone” – The red-haired opponent was the first to speak, his confidence now clearly mired with mockery. Even a cruel shade of joy – “I can’t wait to see your masterful use of magic” – He added with quite the venom. Just enough to twist-up his features for a mere moment.
“I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed, then” – Billy calmly stated, matter-of-factly.
“And why is that?” – The mockery was back in full bloom.
“Because whatever I choose to display today, will simply be beyond your comprehension” – Billy’s lips pealed back abruptly, only to display an almost savage toothy-grin, one balancing on the edge of sanity.
The opponent leaned back almost instantly, as if physically struck, the smirk replaced by a deep frown.
“Contestants, please take your positions” – Finally, the verbal bout was interrupted by the headmaster’s voice, as it boomed above the arena like a trumpet sound and with it, the two separated and turned around – though Billy seemed slightly disorientated for a few moments, right up to the point his eyes caught onto a purple circle at the other end of the arena, which, after a glance – looked identical to the one the red-haired opponent walked towards. Shrugging, Billy proceeded to the circle on his side, only to turn and regard his soon-to-be foe with a raised eyebrow – whose hands danced around the plentiful jewelry he wore – only to eventually take out a bladeless handle from a pocket.
“Ladies and gentlemen!” – The red-hair shouted atop his lungs, the handle lifted into the air for all to see – “The air-sword!” – And with that, a shimmering, transparent blade extended out from the handle, its’ edge constantly on the move as if the very currents of air became visible. Slowly, he lowered the tip of the sword towards Billy and just as the crowd’s cheering was at its’ loudest and his condescending smile the broadest, decided to display his wit – “You’re about to feel a slight breeze”
“What a prancing peacock…” – Billy mumbled under his nose.
“Begin!” – Before he could get the chance to counter the threat properly – the Headmaster started the match before a long and totally unnecessary dialogue could start between the two.
Without any additional pleasantries, the red-haired youth released an almost feral grunt and dashed into action with wide swings of the sword – each one leaving behind transparent arks of compressed air that flew in Billy’s general direction. Luckily, the distance was just enough for the poor victim to attempt dodging. And so he did, with all the grace of a buffalo. Darting around in less than graceful steps, Billy barely managed to escape with a few scratches – curses and foul insults left behind each close call. And there were plenty of those.
“How far I’ve fallen...” – Another stumble, another dodge by the skin of his teeth – “…to be pushed around by a street performer…” - The victim mumbled in a barely audible manner once again, his spoken concerns drowned out by the crash of magical attacks, by the crowd’s cheering that followed each one. A window of respite came, as the red-head ceased his relentless attacks, lips twisted into a self-satisfied grin, while eyes looked upon his prey with a glimmer of mockery in them.
Pummeled, clothes ripped open in multiple places, Billy dusted off almost casually, only to straighten his back and look back at his foe with radiating disinterest.
“I guess he was right about the breeze…” – He mumbled to himself in a tone that was much louder than necessary – loud enough to be heard by the opponent, this time.
“Oh, it’s about to turn it into a storm…” – With a wide grin, did the red-head shot back and as he did – three jewels – one for each piece of jewelry – a necklace and two bracelets, lit up in purple. Encouraged by loud cheers, the youth slowly rose into the air, while a visible sphere of ever-spinning air currents formed around him. Wind roared, overcoming the crowd’s shouts, and shards of stone flew about as scratches and cuts littered the ground beneath. With a flourish of the sword, crescent-shaped slashes flew about in a rush – twice as fast and twice as large. Yet for all that effort, Billy somehow still managed to just barely escape with his limbs still attached. Sure, his clothes were in tatters and a number of cuts were dripping blood, but none of it seemed in any way lethal. It was as if the attacks slipped through him, instead of doing any real damage. As if the one attacking was just playing around. Like a cat would with a mouse.
“I can see it…” – Billy mumbled in-between the frantic dodging and stumbling about, as the wind roared and sounds of the attacker’s joyous laughter echoed about – “…I can see through your cheap parlor tricks…”
Once again, a calm entered the battle, as the red-head ceased his attacks – his figure slowly descending to the ground, a deep curve in the platform forming around him as the cutting currents dug into it.
“I must admit, Snowcone. Playing with you was quite enjoyable” – He shouted over the noise, sword lowered to the ground, while a dashing grin could just barely be seen through the shifting currents – “I, Sigfriend Redglare will treasure this memory” – The cocky statement sounded just like a goodbye. His jewels shone brighter now and the sphere of air-currents seemed to expand with ever increasing speed – threatening to reach the farthest parts of the arena, without leaving an inch of space to escape to.
Instead of retreating Billy chose to advance, contrary to his previously displayed tactics, as he calmly stepped towards the ever approaching wall of razor-sharp wind. The roar of the crowd lulled into silence moments before contact – as if everyone held their breaths-in, anxious to find out what would happen next.
It was hard to say if any understood what happened, when it did, though. For no actual contact seemed to take place, as Billy simply passed through the air-shredder without receiving a scratch – a fact that left both the spectators and Sigfriend himself frozen in shock. Too late did the red-head wake-up from his stupor, since when he did – Billy was already barely a few meters away. With gritted teeth, the panicked wind-magician angled his sword for a slash – only to fall to his knees with a pained grunt. All Billy did, was wave his hand before the swing could be performed, yet the effect was crushing. Instant.
With pains and moans, Sigfriend landed on his knees with a thud almost loud enough to be heard over the roaring wind. Gasping, he bent over, sword slipping out of his fingers as he shifted his hands to try and stop the descent – yet the effect seemed to do nothing more but delay it. As if the weight of the very world pressed against him, the poor youth seemed to struggle greatly – hands buckling under the invisible pressure, the floor getting closer and closer. Slowly, the sphere of wind dissipated and the purple jewels in both of his bracelets extinguished.
Billy, being a man graceful in victory just as he is graceful in defeat, placed his right foot on Sigfriend’s shoulder – weight visibly shifting onto it the next moment. The crowd booed in unison.
“Oh shut up!” – Billy shot back with a glare – “I think I earned a little gloating after all that humiliation” – He mumbled, gaze now back on the red-head – “Well? Where’s your dashing charm now, huh? Thought you could mess with me and get away without a bloodied nose?” – His features twisted into a grimace, body shifting towards the right foot. Sigfriend released a muffled groan as his face struck the ground – the last tug being enough to break what desperate resistance the red-head still had.
Billy stepped back as the crowd roared in dissatisfaction all around. He looked upon the defeated with a venomous sneer, knees bending as the victor crouched – deft fingers taking out the wrist jewels without any resistance.
“The spoils of battle go to the victor, do they not?” – He threw the acquired gems into the air, making sure to add another stinging phrase into the mix before standing up and turning to leave – “A fake could never defeat the real deal” – But not before another insult was left behind.
“Today’s match goes to Billy Snowcone” – And just as he did, the Headmaster’s voice boomed loudly over the unsatisfied shouts and boo’s – his stern gaze gliding over the audience, only to eventually settle on the approaching youth. Lips pressed into a line, a concentrated furrow in his brows.
“I hope you enjoyed the show, but if you don’t mind – I’m in a desperate need for a new set of clothes” – Yet Billy seemed unperturbed by it, as he met the glare with a sneer, feet angling to leave.
“Wait” – And was forced to stop, as the Headmaster’s voice echoed in a commanding tone. With a raised eyebrow, Billy looked at him, eyes catching onto a pointing finger – which was directed at the still prone and struggling Sigfried.
“Oh that. Don’t worry. The effects will wear off before any permanent damage can be inflicted” – Billy casually commented and turned to leave once again. Nobody tried to stop him this time.
Billy sneered once again – “I’d dare them to try”
“What was that?” – Seems like the last part was not left unheard either, as one of the teachers he passed shouted angrily.
“Mind your own business!” – Billy shot back viciously, enough to force the old coot to back off even – “I swear, can’t even have a moment of privacy…” – Only to leave the scene mumbling under his nose, the retreat trailed by lifted eyebrows.