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    Selena was irritated that afternoon, and she almost couldn’t figure out why.

    Maybe it was due to her monk evaluations coming up, and knowing those geezers would scold her about her unbalanced cores again. Or maybe it was the fact that Professor Woden had effusively praised Telip today for some stupid rune he’d created that Selena was sure she could do better if she had any interest in rune-making.

    And when Selena had joked and congratulated Telip on his runes, he had not even given much of a reaction. Only a slight nod and a mild, “Thank you.” That was it.

    What the heck is his problem with me?

    She didn’t know who was worse–him or Arielle Blacksoil.

    Speaking of Blacksoil…

    Perhaps it was the charm nonsense that was getting on her nerves. Arielle Blacksoil’s charms were upsetting the delicate balance of things at the academy, making the weaker second years somehow start measuring up to their superiors. Pietro Cullen, a Massa-Luxa user, most popularly known for only making it through his trials by the skin of his teeth, had actually cast a [Whirlpool] spell yesterday, a Tier 5.

    It wasn’t right. It was cheating, plain and simple, and her charm was giving the weak hope that they could ever be on the same level as those naturally more talented.

    It was irritating to even consider.

    Anyway, it would be over soon. Today, even, by her calculations.

    She just wished everyone around her would stop talking about Arielle Blacksoil so she could stop being so annoyed by the mediocre first year.

    “Apparently, Professor Valeria is giving her extra lessons,” Prim said. She was a fourth-year with a short temper and an automatic disdain for first years. She’d scoffed at Arielle Blacksoil that first day when she’d walked into the duelling circle. Now she was just as fascinated as the rest of them. “She’s trying to get her to level up quickly.”

    “Careful, Selena, they’re saying she might beat your record,” Rhea said teasingly. “And become the youngest Master we’ve ever seen.”

    Rhea and Prim chuckled, but when Selena turned to look at the former, the smile froze on her face, and the color drained from her cheeks.

    “I mean…” Rhea instantly corrected with nervous laughter. “I was just joking, Selena. No one actually believes she’ll beat your record.”

    “She might if she keeps using those charms,” Prim muttered, slicing into her steak.

    Selena wished she could slice into something, too.

    Especially since Prim was right. Those charms, as she’d observed them, were dangerously effective, and if the girl continued to use them, she might ascend so quickly that she would soon become the talk of the entire magical world.

    To think that people were comparing Selena’s natural talent to that of a cheat.

    She had to do something. It wasn’t enough to embarrass the girl, although she was sure that the Winthromes would get her expelled in no time. Nevertheless, Selena had a nagging urge to learn more about her.

    “Those are just rumors,” Rhea said. “I doubt any charms are that effective.”

    “Well, we should find out how true these rumors are,” Selena announced and got up.

    She left her food barely touched on the table and ignored her friends calling out to her as she headed straight for the atrium containing the duelling hall.

    Riorke was probably there as he usually was during his free periods, dueling with his friend, Lacey.

    She already sensed his heat signature before she got close. It was hotter than most.

    Riorke was an Ashbourne, a Calor-dominant cousin of the Gregors, who resided on the mainland Pyrodeon. He came from a family of Knights who all looked the same and basically acted the same. Like his brother, Riordan, Riorke had a brawny build, auburn hair that he kept shaved, and potential for an ability to condense Calor essences on the surface of his physical body for more explosive power.

    There were quite a few people in the duelling hall today, practicing in separate duelling circles. Selena paused some paces away and watched Riorke and Lacey dance around each other, in a flurry of kicks and punches.

    While Riorke was pure brawn, power in every swing and every kick. Lacey was more graceful, a constantly moving river offering a smooth reversal for every attack.

    His style was more defensive, and his attacks, while they weren’t as powerful, targeted pressure points in the body.

    Neither of them was using spells, and Selena often wondered why they’d bothered to attend a school for magery instead of one of the more physical academies that trained knights.

    “Riorke,” Selena called out, and that distracted him enough for Lacey to land a solid kick to his midsection.

    He recovered quickly, hopping back. “What is it? I’m kind of busy.”

    “It will only take a second,” she said. Riorke put a hand up to block a blow to his head and sent a kick to Lacey’s, which the latter also dodged.

    “Pause,” he called out, and Lacey dropped his attack.

    As Lacey began to stretch, Riorke walked off towards his cousin, wiping his sweat on his shirt.

    “Yeah? What is it?”

    “I was curious about the new girl,” Selena said. “I’ve seen you eating lunch with her a few times. We’ve heard she’s a young genius.”

    She half expected him to scoff. Riorke was not one to mince words, and she knew he would tell her immediately if the rumors about Arielle Blacksoil were an exaggeration.

    “Definitely a genius,” he answered without skipping a beat. “During our last class, Professor Valeria gave us all a spell that no one else in the class even knew. Except Arielle. She cast it so fast, I didn’t even have time to blink. And then Valeria asked if she could adjust the spell to increase its magnitude. Arielle completed the calculations and cast a perfectly adjusted spell in about forty-five seconds. I’ve never seen that before.”

    “Professor Valeria probably already told her about the spell ahead of time. I heard they were having extra sessions.”

    “Yeah, but I don’t think Valeria would do that. Besides, all the spells Arielle casts are fast. Sometimes it takes her more than a few seconds, but even then, it almost feels like she’s trying to slow it down on purpose, so that people aren’t as impressed.”

    “Why would she do that?”

    He shrugged. “I’m not sure. She’s a strange one.”

    Selena raised her eyebrow. “They’re saying that she might reach Master tier faster than I did.”

    Anyone else might have told her that wasn’t true, that her ascension was nothing short of legendary, and no one could come close. They would have said it even if they didn’t believe it, to spare her feelings and prevent her ire.

    But Riorke’s defining feature had always been his brutal honesty.

    “Maybe,” he said. “She doesn’t seem too obsessed with levels, but if she puts her mind to it, she probably could.”

    “Hmm.” Selena remained calm, even though there was a burning in the pit of her stomach, a disquiet that beset her.

    “Maybe not, though,” Riorke said. “I guess we’ll see.”

    “I do wonder who was pre-training her.” Most of the noble families started training their young with masters and tutors from their clan.

    He pursed his lip. “I don’t think she did any training. From what I know, it sounds like she was adopted and raised by Mossbornes.”


    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    “She can’t be as skilled as she is without being trained.”

    Even Selena, with her natural talent, had had significant childhood training. Her clan master and father were dead, so it had been left to the monks in the Calor temples of Mount Cesare.

    Every single day, Selena had to undergo lengthy meditation and breathwork. Mind-numbingly boring, but she’d tortured herself with it for years, and it had paid off.

    And now some third-rate toad from a swamp was trying to overtake her.

    Impossible.

    “She’s certainly not as good as me, and she’s been using charms,” Selena mentioned. “Her cores are presumably overly reliant on them right now. If they got taken away, she would fall flat on her face.” Which Selena looked forward to, although Arielle probably wouldn’t be around for Selena to see it. She would likely be expelled today.

    Any minute now….

    Riorke shrugged non-committally. “If that’s all, I’m going back to my duel.”

    She nodded vaguely, but before he got far, the doors opened again.

    Percival Strauss walked in first, with Arielle Blacksoil not too far behind.

    ***

    Arielle waited for the boy to decide what they were doing, her patience reducing with each passing second.

    At her words, his face flushed as though he’d been dealt an insult.

    “They were right,” he said. “You might be skilled, but you are shortsighted and insulting.” He summarily decided with a nod. “That will be your undoing today. Let’s go.”

    He walked away first, leaving Arielle wondering when she had insulted him.

    She also followed him.

    On the way in, they passed by the dining hall where Lyra was emerging from. She watched Percival storm by first before zeroing in on Arielle.

    “What’s going on?” she asked.

    “A duel,” Arielle answered, and before she could continue walking, Lyra grabbed her wrist.

    “Are you insane?” she hissed. “Do you know who that is?”

    “No.”

    “That’s Percival Strauss of the Cathol Strausses. He’s one of the best duelers in the second year, and I think he’s adept, too. He has a bloodline trait. Why would you fight him?”

    “Because he asked for it.” Now that she’d heard more, Arielle was even more eager and hopeful that this wouldn’t be as dull a fight as she’d imagined. “I think I’ll be fine.”

    “You idiot. You’re going to get yourself hurt.”

    Even though she was being called an idiot, Arielle did not take offense, because it was paired with a worried expression that she confirmed with [Empath Sense].

    Celie often called her an idiot when she was worried, too.

    “Thank you,” Ari said.

    Lyra frowned. “For what?”

    “For caring about me enough to call me names.”

    Lyra’s eyes flared in surprise. Ari gently extracted her hand and continued toward the duelling hall.

    Professor Graham was observing multiple duels simultaneously when they walked in.

    He did, however, smile brightly when he saw Arielle coming.

    “Arielle. Another duel?”

    “Yes.” She pointed to the other boy who was standing waiting, with a disgruntled face.

    “Oh,” Professor Graham said with distinctly less enthusiasm. “It’s Peter.”

    “Percival.”

    “That’s what I said. This is quite the interesting match-up. A second year versus a first year isn’t totally incomprehensible; however, I have to ask, Arielle, are you okay with this? You can say no, and if this decision was made under duress, we can report it.”

    “I’m okay,” Arielle said. “There’s no duress, only that it has to be done within three minutes because I have homework.”

    That got her a snort from Graham as he turned to Percival.

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