Author's Preface
The snow began to fall again, and the frosty wind bit the back of his neck and nose as he made his way to the main building. He pulled up the collar of his coat and trudged through the cold wind. Welcoming warm air hit his face when he opened the double glass doors of the building. He continued down the same corridor he would take to go to lunch, but took a left and went through another set of doors.
He took a moment to admire the sheer size of the theater-style room. Light came from the glass windows on the back wall and illuminated the arena. Casimir could see a rolling chalkboard and a few training dummies at the bottom. He walked down the stone steps to a desk near the front. Some of his classmates were already seated. He looked over the retaining wall in front of his desk. Even from here, we are about ten feet up.
Not too long after his arrival, Rodrick descended the stone steps. He gave Casimir a grand smile. “How’s it going?”
“I’m well, and you?”
“Just dandy. I get to T.A. for my favorite subject, you know.” He stretched his arms. “Say, Deadeye likes to invite some of the students to take part in her demonstrations. Are you in? It would be an easy participation grade for you.”
“I would not mind.”
“Great! Rodrick turned to leave.
“Wait, were you a T.A last year?” Casimir asked.
“Yes? What about it?”
“Do you remember a Quigley Quackenbush?”
Rodrick frowned, the gears in his mind turning, and a look of realization appeared on his face. “He was a second-year commoner student, right? Had little chicken arms?”
“Yes.” Casimir suppressed his excitement.
“Was he a servant of your family? What about him?”
“No, but I knew of him and his family. He was one of the reasons why I chose to pick this school. ”
“Ahh.” Rodrick nodded, although he furrowed his brow in confusion. “Well, tell him I wish him luck on his return here. Professor Deadeye does too. Academic suspension is not the end of the world. He can bounce back from it with hard work and determination. ”
Casimir frowned. I thought he was only off for fall break. I guess that explains how that wretch was able to prey on him so easily.
“Don’t tell me he gave up?” Rodrick asked.
Casimir paused, trying to find the right words. “Unfortunately, he won’t be returning.”
“That is too bad, but being a Weaver isn’t for everyone. At least he figured that out early on, better sooner than later.” Rodrick shrugged, made his way to the arena, and stood next to the rolling chalkboard.
It was too late. Casimir shook his head and tried to cope with Rodrick’s words that smacked him in the face. Someone sitting in the seat beside him snapped Casimir out of his sulking. He turned and saw a familiar blonde. It’s Alistair, why…right, social politics. He forced a smile. “Morning.”
“Good morning,” Alistair answered in a calm, even-keeled voice.
They both sat in silence, neither of them eager to engage in small talk, while garnering stares from their other classmates. Casimir frowned. This is becoming tiresome.
“Hey, buddy,” called out the voice of another annoying blonde. Merritt stood in the aisle with a crooked grin on his face. “So you got to meet Alistair.”
After hearing Alistair groan, Casimir said, “Yes, we are both in Professor Skillwright’s class. You two met before?”
“Yeah, we met during the summer quarter.” Merritt passed behind their chairs and sat at the desk beside them. “We wanted to introduce you to him during the freshman meet-up, but he left while you were fighting that Partsong girl.”
Casimir raised his brow. “Ah, I didn’t notice.”
Alistair rested his elbow on the desk. “Once I saw you finish that girl off with a grab, I knew I saw enough.”
“Aw, come on, you really missed out.” Merritt knitted his eyebrows. “Casimir was able to beat a senior student.”
Alistair ignored Merritt’s words. His eyes and thoughts seemed to be elsewhere.
Merritt rolled his neck out of frustration and sank into his chair. “Man, why am I stuck with two killjoys?”
A door slammed behind them, causing a girl to jump and all eyes to fall on a 30-something, petite blonde who entered. She carried herself proudly in her Weaver’s gambeson with an audacious smile. When she reached the bottom of the arena, she whispered to Rodrick, and the two shared a laugh.
She then took her place in front of the board. “Welcome to Weaver Battle Tactics. I’m Professor Deadeye.” She gave a cursory glance around the hall and turned to Rodrick for confirmation. “Well, everyone seems to be here.”
“Yep, seems like it!”
“Good, let’s get started. Everyone, gather around and join me in the arena. We should have enough room.” She motioned for them to come.
This must be what Rodrick was talking about. Well, I might as well get ready.
Fifteen students assembled in the arena below. Casimir heard confused murmurs from his fellow classmates, and one voice sounded familiar. He scanned the crowd until he found Bryson conversing with a dark-haired man. His smile contrasted with his closed-off posture.
He seems nervous, but his hand looks better.
Bryson noticed him and lit up with a smile, but his expression immediately switched to annoyance, and his hand stopped mid-wave. He turned away and continued talking to the other student, who seemed to have lost interest.
What happened? Casimir glanced at Alistair. Oh, it is because he is standing next to me.
“Alright, everybody, let’s stretch!” Rodrick announced. “Up.” He raised his hands in the air.
Is this her way to wake us all up, before a boring lecture?
After Rodrick’s warm-up, Professor Deadeye took over.
She gave them a mischievous grin and rubbed her palms together. “So, I think it would be fun for our first get-to-know-you session that you show me your battle prowess through a friendly duel with me.”
The students exchanged nervous glances, and the hall filled with hushed whispers of protests and doubt.
Unlike Awldriver, who harshly shut her students down, Deadeye appealed to them with encouragement. “Everyone here should be familiar with some basic offensive patterns. If you can launch an Aether arrow that is good enough, because this is a way for me to see where you are, and I can set up a plan on how you can improve.”
She raised her hand, shimmering with Aether in the air, and her eyes shone from the glow and excitement. “More importantly, this is a way for all of us to learn from one another, because what is the best way to understand each other than through raw combat! Who wants to go first?”
Rodrick pierced holes into him with his stare, so Casimir sighed and raised his hand.
“Hey, you there, what is your name?”
“Bryson Rottenborn.”
Oh, so he is going first. Casimir noticed Bryson standing stiffly in place. It looked like his attempt to appear confident. I guess he has something to prove after the deer incident.
Professor Deadeye pointed to her T.A. “Rodrick will give you a gambeson, and we can get started.”
Bryson nodded and made his way to the front, avoiding the eyes of his classmates. While Bryson was fitted in his gambeson, Casimir noticed the boy flashed a glare at Alistair.
Yes, I was right. He still is angry at Alistair, but is it a good idea to go first? Maybe should have waited after a couple of duels before jumping into the unknown with his level of experience. I doubt the professor will be easier than that deer.
“What does that fool want?” Alistair asked.
“Either an apology or to prove you wrong,” Casimir muttered.
Alistair snickered, and by the look of Bryson's grimace, he noticed.
Rodrick created a barrier around Bryson and Professor Deadeye.
“Good, I will give you ten moves to take me down before I retaliate,” she explained. “Ready?”
“Yes!” Bryson stood firmly in place with determination in his eyes.
“You may begin.”
Bryson’s fingers trembled as he weaved a square pattern. His shaky lines of Aether somehow managed to form a flickering Aether Arrow that looked like it could disappear at any moment. He flung it toward Deadeye, completely missing her by a few inches.
Casimir heard a student exclaim, “Seriously,” in the crowd. Another wondered how he missed her at such a short distance. Bryson’s face grew red, and she shot another Aether arrow her way. The woman tilted her head to the side, dodging the arrow with little effort.
Merritt snickered. “He seems astonished that she dodged out of the way.”
“That is because he is a fool.” Alistair scoffed.
After eight more failed Aether Arrows, Deadeye knocked him flat on his back with her own. The woman scratched the back of her head with an expression of worry and disappointment. “Nice effort, Rottenborn. Come visit my workshops on Saturdays.” She quickly switched gears and addressed the class while gleefully rubbing her hands together. “Anyone want to go next?”
Bryson lowered his head, avoiding the scrutinizing stares and suppressed snickers of his classmates.
Casimir sighed. I hate to say it, but it ended how I imagined it would.
Merritt laughed hysterically. “Is this guy for real?! How did he get in here?!”
“Some idiot felt sorry for him,” Alistair mumbled.
“He mentioned he was accepted into the new experimental Aetherian Device Program,” said Casimir.
“The what?” Merritt raised an eyebrow.
Alistair laughed. “It is a program for incompetent Weavers who need a machine to do the work for them. No Weaver with a sense of pride would use any of those devices.”
Casimir rubbed his chin. “Technology is always moving forward. Who knows, they might become standard issue for Weavers.”
“No sense of pride!” He glared at Casimir.
“I saw Casimir raise his hand.” Rodrick pointed.
What?
Deadeye perked up. “Oh, the Mindrattler who joined the Combat club. Come here.”
He broke away from Alistair’s glare, walked over to Rodrick, and accepted his gambeson.
He studied his opponent. She is slightly shorter than Piper, and her frame is light like a bird's. I also can’t sense her Aether. But only an ignorant fool wouldn’t think much of her.
“Rodrick told you about me?” Casimir asked.
“Of course, I’m the club’s sponsor. Sometimes the group members help me out with my workshops. That was some fight you had.”
Casimir forced a smile. “You saw it?”
Deadeye tilted her head with a self-satisfied smirk. “I did. Although it was unorthodox, most of your performance was not bad for a freshman, but I would advise against holding back with me.” She wagged her finger while intoning her tone. “I’ll make you regret it.”
“Yes, Professor.”
“Nice! Let’s begin!”
Rodrick raised the protective barrier over them.
Alright, I only have ten moves before she fights back. Drat, it would be easier if she went up against a student who challenged her more. I don’t have any hint of her weaknesses.
“Ah, you are sizing me up. You really look like you want to win, even though you know I won’t let you.” She relaxed her footing to a contrapposto. “Don’t sweat it. Fight in a way that is true to yourself.”
A fighting style that is true to myself. Casimir smiled. He weaved Iron Sinew, summoning the Aether within his core to his muscles and ligaments, energizing them. This same vigor coated his body in blue Aether. He then weaved a star pattern, electrifying his hands, and blitzed towards her at lightning speed.
Deadeye’s body seemed to flicker, and he missed her completely.
I’m not finished yet. He Shadowstepped, appearing to Deadeye’s right, and reached for her.
His professor evaded his blow and retreated. “Shadowstep, nice. You have five moves left.”
Casimir spun on his heels, and a bolt of ice erupted from his hand. Deadeye maneuvered away from the ten-foot-high walls of ice Casimir shot her way. I’ll box her in and…
He launched an Aether Arrow into one of the ice walls, damaging it but also creating a blinding glare, then shadowstepped behind Deadeye and reached for her with another electrified grab. Deadeye evaded and slammed her Aether-empowered elbow into his chest with the force of a truck, propelling him backward and sending him through one of his ice walls.
“Ack!” Casimir landed on the hard floor, sliding to a stop. Although the Aether shield his body held, she left him bruised. He rose to his feet and caught his breath.
Deadeye remained where she stood, smiling at him causally. “Is there anything else you would like to show me, Mindrattler?”
Casimir clenched his jaw and weaved a Lightning Bolt that crackled through the air and lit the arena a bright blue. Deadeye disappeared along with the light and reappeared to Casimir’s right before the deafening thunderclap resounded throughout the room.
Her palm connected with his shoulder before he had time to react, and her Aether repelled against his. Casimir found himself flying again, and he did not stop until he hit Rodrick’s barrier with a loud thud. His vision cut out for a second, and when it returned, he found himself on the ground.
The sound of clapping brought him back to his senses. After rubbing his back and checking for blood, he looked up to see Deadeye smiling.
“A nice display of power. I have the perfect list of patterns to incorporate into your fighting style.”
“Thank you…Professor.” Casimir stumbled to his feet and fought the wave of nausea that hit him.
A look of concern appeared on Deadeye’s face. “Do you need to visit the nurse?”
“... No,” He answered, slower than he would like. “I’m fine.” He shuffled his way back to the group of students.
“Who’s next? If no one is going to step forward, I’m going to start calling on people.”
“Damn, she trounced you.” Merritt patted Casimir on the back.
Casimir gritted his teeth. “Are you going to go next?”
Merritt’s smirk soured into an uneasy frown. “No, because I’m sure Alistair is about to go.”
Alistair had already made his way to Rodrick for his gambeson.
“Professor.” He gave her a respectful bow.
“Alistair Lightwell, I presume.”
He gave her a nod.
“Let’s get started.”