The morning began with Shish deciding to test the durability of my carotid artery. The little scoundrel settled on my neck, and his front paws, with claws half-extended, tenderly hugged my Adam's apple. The mont I moved, the claws dug into my skin as a warning.
"Ow, ow..." I whispered to the ceiling. "I'm trapped."
I felt bad waking him up. What if he was dreaming about sothing beautiful? A mountain of fish or a world without humans. I squinted (as much as the blindfold allowed) and saw that the other kids had already cheerfully jumped up and were heading for the exit. Grit turned around at the threshold:
"Zenhald, get up! You'll be late for breakfast."
I had to start carefully poking Shish in the side with my finger. He finally deigned to wake up, yawned sweetly, rubbed his muzzle against my cheek, and started purring. Fine, you're forgiven.
Swinging my legs off the bed, I discovered a "gift" on the floor. Shish had left a small pile right by the leg of the cot. Hmm. Well, at least it wasn't on the blanket—I should be thankful for that. Smart cat.
"Like master, like cat," I complained, stepping out into the corridor.
We reached the washroom. While no one was looking, I pulled down my blindfold for a second, squeezing my eyes shut tightly, and splashed ice-cold water on my face. Pure bliss. Looking around, I couldn't shake the feeling that this place looked more like an orphanage or a kindergarten than an elite school of magic. Seriously, leaving a crowd of kids in the care of teenagers who barely know how to do anything themselves? A weird system.
Breakfast didn't add any optimism. A bowl of watery porridge and a piece of stale bread.
"Is this it?" I stared into my bowl. "Looks like obesity isn't an issue at this school at all."
The senior group piled into the dining room. Swan cast a suspicious glance at
but quickly lost interest. Aurora looked as if she had been dragged here by a lasso—the boredom on her face could have frozen oceans. After eating, everyone started to scatter, but Trioro and Zagria headed purposefully toward .
"Let's go," Zagria tossed out briefly. "Or have you already forgotten about yesterday's deal?"
"Coming, coming..." I sighed, tossing Shish onto my shoulder.
The entire senior group trailed after us—apparently, the spectacle promised to be interesting. We arrived at the training hall: a stone floor covered with thick, hard mats. The sll of dust and old sweat. I imdiately found a cozy corner and lay down, deciding to conserve my energy until the very last mont.
"Well, Zenhald, tell us, what elents do you wield? We'll pick an opponent for you to start with," Zagria said, crossing her arms.
"I-i-i..." I yawned. "Well, let's say, water."
"Alright," she nodded. "Then Olyk will go against you. He's also a water mage. And also—an ice mage."
She said this with such breathlessness, as if "ice mage" was the title of the lord of the galaxy. Everyone sat in a circle; I lazily got up and stood opposite this Olyk. The guy imdiately took a pretentious stance, and a sphere of water began to form slowly—very slowly—around him. Then another... and another... They began to rotate around him, shimring.
I tilted my head to the side. A minute passed. Then a second.
"Are you gonna take much longer?" I asked from under the blindfold.
"What? I'm just waiting for you!" Olyk snapped.
I started walking slowly toward him. There were about five ters between us. Olyk finally made up his mind and launched one of his spheres at . It slamd right into my chest with a wet squelch.
Is that it? I thought. It felt like I had just been caught in the rain. Now I stood there completely soaking wet, my clothes unpleasantly clinging to my body. Unpleasant. Aurora watched this disgrace with interest.
"Olyk, hey, excuse ," I put on the most pitiful voice I was capable of. "But I'm, like, blind. And a kid in general. Could you warn
when you're going to shoot? Otherwise, it's kind of unfair."
Olyk frowned, clearly feeling awkward.
"Alright... Aiming for the stomach! Throwing a stream!"
He splashed a torrent of water at . I didn't even flinch. At that speed, this water was only good for watering flowers. The stream hit
again, making
even wetter.
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"Olyk, oh man... Have so pity, I'm small and defenseless!" I was barely holding back laughter.
The guy straightened up and looked at Zagria in confusion:
"Are you sure I should continue? This feels like a beating..."
And at that mont, I dashed. While he was self-reflecting, I closed the distance. Three ters, two seconds. He threw a sphere in a panic—it grazed my shoulder, but I didn't even slow down. Another stream flew past
because I simply tilted my head a bit. A second later, and I was standing right in front of him.
Clap.
I simply touched his arm, imdiately jumped back, and clapped my hands loudly.
"That's it! I won!"
"What do you an, you won?!" Olyk's eyes bugged out. "You just touched !"
"What do you an 'what do I an'? Let's introduce a rule: if I touch you, I win. Deal?"
"Why are you changing the rules on the fly?!" Swan objected indignantly.
"Aw, ma-a-an," I turned the 'miserable invalid' mode back on. "Look at . I'm blind, I'm small. Do you guys seriously get a kick out of planning to beat up a crippled kid? Won't you be ashad of yourselves?"
I swept over them with my "unseeing" gaze. Trioro scratched the back of his head in bewildernt, and Zagria covered her face with her palm, clearly not knowing whether to laugh or get angry. Moral pressure is a great thing.
"Alright, alright, you convinced ," Zagria waved her hand, acknowledging my dubious victory over Olyk.
But they didn't let
relax. Trioro stepped resolutely into the center of the circle. With his every movent, sparks flew from his soles, and thick steam escaped from his parted lips, as if a steam boiler were operating inside him. The spectators imdiately began fussing, moving further away so as not to get roasted for company.
A thin ribbon of fire spiraled around Trioro's fist. Without a word, he threw his arm forward—a sharp, short jab. The fla, compressed into a tight spring, whistled as it flew right at my face. I lazily swayed to the left. The fire swept past, washing my cheek with heat.
"Not bad for a start!" Trioro shouted, forming a massive pulsating orb in one hand while releasing a series of small fiery projectiles with the other.
I started to close the distance, covering my palms with a thin layer of water on the go. Trioro didn't stand still—he deftly hopped back, trying to keep
at a distance. When there were about three ters left between us, I sharply whipped my hand. Drops of water flew from my fingers and splashed right into his face. Trioro instinctively covered himself with his elbow, and his next orb flew a couple of ters off target.
Here it was—the mont. I lunged forward. Trioro reacted instantly: a blinding pillar of fire shot up around him, blocking my path.
Seriously? You think I'm afraid of a campfire? I smirked to myself.
Condensing the water film on my skin to the maximum, I literally ramd through the flas and grabbed onto his leg. The fire instantly went out. Trioro froze, staring at my hands gripping his ankle.
"Uh-huh! Gotcha!" I happily jumped back, pulling the most innocent of my smiles onto my face. "You're slow, Trioro. Getting old?"
True, I looked pretty rough: my clothes were soaked through, steam rising off ... But a victory is a victory.
"Now I'm up against you," a cold voice rang out.
Swan slowly stood up from his seat.
"Wait, what? Hold on..." I wiped my face with the edge of my wet t-shirt. "When is the pie happening?"
"Beat him, and Trioro will stand at the stove all evening just for you," Zagria promised.
I sighed heavily. I was tired of this kindergarten, but pie... Pie is sacred.
"Alright, let's go."
Before I could even finish speaking—BOOM!—a condensed spear of air flew past my ear, leaving a deep dent in the wall. Swan was already in a fighting stance, his face burning with irritation.
"One, two, three..." he began counting, hurling one spear after another at .
I covered myself with the water film again and forged ahead. The air slamd against the water with dull thuds, but couldn't pierce it. He clearly lacked experience—he hit powerfully, but predictably.
"Is that all?" Swan ground his teeth. "You're just getting lucky, new kid! Let's see how you sing now!"
When I got within three ters, he unleashed a pretty good combination: a powerful wave of air to knock
off my feet, imdiately followed by water stakes, hoping I wouldn't have ti to restore the integrity of my defense.
Seriously... This is the archmage's best student? I just slightly shifted the flow of water on my skin, absorbing his attack.
Suddenly, Swan slamd his fist hard into the ground. My legs were instantly shackled by stone up to the ankles.
"Gotcha, rat!" he shouted triumphantly and started pelting
with boulders.
I had to strengthen my water shield, turning it into a dense cocoon. The boulders shattered into dust against it. The situation was getting tricky: if I just ripped my legs out of the earth right now, it would beco obvious that I'm unrealistically strong. I had to put on a show.
Water jets swirled around , and I started accelerating them, shaping them into bullets. BANG! BOOM!
I fired with precision. One of the water bullets "accidentally" pierced the air and grazed Swan's shin. A thin trickle of blood spurted out.
"Damn it!" he hissed, clutching his leg.
I pretended that, with the last of my strength and the pressure of the water, I was breaking the stone fetters. Finally "free," I moved forward. Swan, realizing that he wouldn't fare well in close combat, began accelerating himself with wind. He dashed around the hall like he'd been stung, moving from corner to corner.
I stopped in the center. The mont I took a step toward him, he imdiately flew off in the opposite direction.
"Listen, Swan," I stopped. "Aren't you ashad of yourself? You're supposed to be a top mage here, and you're running from
like a chicken from a cook."
"I'm not running," ca from another corner.
I made a sharp feint to the right, pretending I was about to make a quick dash. Swan, predictably, darted in the opposite direction, right to where I had already directed a couple of water "spears" in advance. Noticing them at the last mont, he tried to brake, lost his balance, and, from his own montum, tumbled head over heels.
I was beside him before he even had ti to touch the floor. Clap! A touch on the shoulder.
"YEE-HAW! The pie is mine!" I threw my hands up in victory.
"...what an incredibly boring fight. Swan, you should train more."
Swan sat on the floor, breathing heavily and looking at
with a mixture of hatred and bewildernt. And I was already ntally chewing on a warm pie with a crispy crust. Life was starting to look up.
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