Classes were no longer of importance to Flint. The teachers treat him horribly anyway, so he just stopped caring. He only attended classes just so he wouldn’t be expelled for failure to attend, and also to take mental notes of what he should be practicing later in the Practice Atrium.
The Practice Atrium is where he goes with Gracey every evening after classes to sharpen the skills they were taught. It was a huge glass-like dome situated next to the Battle Atrium just outside the North Wing of the school. The glass-like material that made both the Battle Atrium and the Practice Atrium have a strange property that bent the light in such a way that they were invisible from the outside, which explained why not many people outside of the school knew of their existences. They were preparing for the Battle Atrium Tournament which was only a month away now, right after the end of their first semester. Since almost every student in the year wanted to join the tournament, the Practice Atrium was filled with other first-years, much to the annoyance of the more senior magical students. There was, however, still enough space for everyone. The dome somehow increases and decreases its size to accommodate the amount of people in it, which Flint found extremely fascinating.
During these practice sessions, however, it was Gracey who really gained anything from it. No matter how hard Flint tried, nothing he wanted to do actually turned out right.
“Well, does it really matter?” asked Gracey after Flint huffed in frustration when he blew a practice dummy up in a cloud of burning straw when he was meant to shoot a small harmless fireball. It wasn’t even the practice dummy he was aiming at that blew up, which gained him some curses from the student who was using it. “The rules of the tournament is to knock your opponent off the duelling rink with magic. It never said anything about using specific magic, and your magic seems stronger than everyone else. Also, the dome makes it so that any magic cast within it won’t cause fatal or severe injuries to other magicians, so you don’t have to worry about blowing up anyone.”
“First,” replied Flint with a red face, obviously from frustration, “I’m probably not stronger than anyone else, I just have problems controlling the flow of energy through me. Second, I would really like it if I actually knew what was going to be fired at my opponent and in what direction. I doubt missing would do me much good in the tournament. It’s not about winning anyway. It’s about learning to be a better magician.”
“Okay, Mister Grumpy, I was just trying to help.”
As Gracey was stepping up to her practice dummy, a voice boomed throughout the Practice Atrium, “Flint and Gracey. The rink is available now.”
“Finally!” Gracey almost screamed in excitement. It was possible to book the rink in the Practice Atrium for practice duels for half an hour at a time, but they never got around to it since they were agreed that they should practice their magic before their combat skills. But since the tournament is only a month away now, they thought that they should start on their combat practice. Duelling is not taught formally in classes, but the rules were simple enough to understand. There are two kinds of duelling: Single duels and double duels. Double duels involves combining energy with your partner to dish out stronger hits or form tougher barriers, but they don’t have that in the first year so Gracey and Flint will be both entering individually. Which was all the better for Flint anyway. He knew he couldn’t properly control magic on his own, much less if combined with another person.
The two of them took their positions on the rink, which was located at the centre of the Practice Atrium. The two of them were separated by a small gap the width of three fingers. This was how energy was supplied to the magicians. Random sources would emerge from the gap, changing as the battle progressed, testing not only their combat skills, but their competence in energy drawing as well. After the match starts though, duellers were allowed to move freely around the rink. They agreed that this first session would be to duel each other with the elemental magics that they have learnt, which were fire, water, and electricity. Flint was hesitant, but agreed in the end. He only hoped that at the very least, the element he chose at any one time would actually be the one that he fired.
“Ready?” asked Gracey from across the rink, a fiery glint in her eye.
“You bet!” Flint replied, trying to match Gracey’s enthusiasm.
Flint heard the rink rumble as it started the match, followed by the sound flowing water. Water. Flint smiled. He knew what to do.
Flint observed Gracey and where her eyes were looking. As soon as water started emerging from the gap, Flint drew on all the energy from the bonds between water molecules from one spot: The spot where Gracey was concentrating on, which puffed up into a cloud of steam, obscuring both duellers from each other. In a split second, before Gracey could look for another spot of water to draw energy from, Flint channeled the energy and picked an element. Electricity.
He raised his hands towards where Gracey was standing when he could still see her and let a jolt of electricity loose.
It was superb. He felt every cell in his body get electrified while blue bolts shot out of his fingertips. It would’ve been a perfect shot. It was powerful, but far from accurate. The bolts shot straight up towards the ceiling of the dome instead, electric bolts licking every interior surface of the dome before it dissipated. It was a magnificent sight, which silenced everyone in the Practice Atrium as everyone looked up.
Without warning, Flint was thrown backwards by an orb of hot light, which turned out to be a fireball. It was hot, but it didn’t burn him since the magical dome prevented it. The force of the blow, however, was still very real.
When Flint hit the ground, he knew right away that he was out of the rink’s boundaries. Gracey knocked him out in one blow! Oh, and did she know it. She was standing above him, smirking. “Hey, will you concentrate on our duel instead of your little light show? How else are you going to win the tournament?”
Flint groaned as he tried to get his feet under him. “Again.”
Gracey smiled and skipped back onto the rink. As Flint was walking back to his spot, he saw three figures at the far corner of the Practice Atrium observing him.
Tres Magna.
