“A common goal,” Delph drawled. “A fine one at that. Keeping yourself alive tends to be a good thing. However…”
Delph slipped forward like a mirage, appearing inches away from Damien even though it didn’t seem like the man had even moved. He leaned close, his cold grey eyes flat and lifeless.
“You don’t strike me as a fighter,” Delph said, his voice barely above a whisper. “No, what I see before me is a scholar. You wear mage armor, but it has never been used. Your hands are fair and your gaze is unfocused. You’ve never trained a day in your life.”
He paused, observing Damien’s expression before he continued.
“You didn’t come to a mage college to become an adventurer. You don’t want to fight on the front lines of the wilderness. You just love magic. You see it as an artform – something to be learned and loved.”
“Is there something wrong with that?” Damien asked, his nose inches from Delph’s. He refused to step back from the imposing man.
“No,” Delph replied, taking the boy by surprise. “We need scholars. Researchers that find new ways to use magic. But a scholar is not a fighter. You see something to be studied and loved. I see a tool to be bent to my needs. Magic is a means to an end, not the ultimate goal.”
“I don’t see how that would affect me learning to be a fighter,” Damien said. “And you said you’d teach me if you knew my motives just a few moments ago!”
“Everyone needs to learn the basics,” Delph replied, finally taking a step back from Damien. However, he didn’t blink or break eye contact once. “Some need more help with them than others. But… to go beyond that? Why should I waste my time on a scholar? You won’t need my teachings.”
“Yes I do,” Damien said, narrowing his eyes. “And if you never intended to teach me, why did you invite me here?”
Delph’s cloak rippled around him. The shadows cast by the pale moonlight seemed to flinch and recede around them.
“Because you are an enigma,” Delph said. “One moment, I feel nothing at all from you. And then you are enveloped in a shroud of darkness that even I can’t see through.”
Henry stiffened within Damien’s mind.
“So you invited me so you could satisfy your curiosity?” Damien asked, forcing himself to keep the fear off his face.
“Perhaps,” Delph said. “To be honest, I’m not entirely sure yet. I certainly didn’t expect you to show up asking for advanced combat training, especially after you claimed not to have any magic to avoid fighting me.”
“I didn’t lie,” Damien said, his brow lowering.
“But you have magic now?” Delph pressed.
“Yes.”
“Then, if you want me to even consider training you beyond the bare minimum requirements set by the school, I lay the same offer before you that everyone else faced,” Delph said, taking a step back and raising his hands into the air. “Show me what you can do.”
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The air around Delph twisted and warped. Damien hopped backwards, casting his mental net out. Lines of Ether encircled Delph like a cocoon, twisting and churning malevolently.
“Careful,” Henry warned. “I can’t help you. If he noticed my presence already, there’s no way I can assist in an actual fight unless your life is at risk. We can’t give this human more room to examine me.”
Damien nodded. He channeled energy out through his palm, forming the ball of destructive energy. Delph observed him with a bored expression.
“Is that all you’ve got?” Delph asked. “That isn’t even a spell.”
“I told you that I only learned magic yesterday!” Damien snapped, lunging towards the professor and thrusting the orb towards the man.
It felt like his hand had slammed into a brick wall. The ball of magic blinked out of existance a foot away from Delph and a tremor rippled down Damien’s arm. He bit back a cry of pain and staggered backwards to get out of the professor’s reach.
Delph didn’t even move. He just watched Damien, his head tilted to the side. Damien drew on another one of the sparks of Ether within him, forming another ball in his hand.
“Really?” Delph asked as Damien dashed towards him again. The boy’s movements were clearly untrained and amateurish. Delph stepped forward, knocking Damien’s hand to the side and kicking him in the chest.
Damien tumbled backwards, the magic vanishing as he slammed into the sand. Delph looked down at him, his lip curled in anger.
“You don’t even use your mage armor. Where did you get this?” Delph demanded.
Damien kicked out weakly at Delph’s leg. The professor didn’t bother dodging it, and the strike thudded harmlessly against him. He shook his head and grabbed Damien by the collar. He lifted him into the air.
“You have no natural instincts as a fighter. You’re clumsy and weak,” Delph said. “If you truly did just learn magic yesterday, then you’re a gifted scholar. Don’t take my words as insults. You have potential to be a great mage, but you’re no warrior. Stick to the sidelines.”
Damien struggled fruitlessly in the man’s grasp. He grasped Delph’s arm with one hand, gasping and glaring at the man as he started to choke.
“Have something to say?” Delph asked, quirking an eyebrow.
Damien managed to nod. His hand caught the slip of paper sticking out of a pocket and he ripped it free, slapping it against the professor’s face.
He squeezed his eyes shut as a brilliant white flash lit up the early morning sky. Delph swore and staggered backwards, releasing Damien and ripping the paper away from his face.
Damien rolled to his feet, grabbing the second sheet of paper and thrusting it against Delph’s armor. The professor, still blinded from the flash, stomped his foot into the ground.
A shockwave of energy rippled through the arena, sending a small wave of sand up. The attack had clearly been controlled enough to keep from seriously injuring him, but it still tossed Damien back like a tumbleweed.
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