"Everyone should know me, but just in case, I'll introduce myself again: I am Franzelt Lindt, the Combat Instructor for Classes 1-A and 1-B. I will be the one in charge of supervising your training for the upcoming months, and will be available to answer any questions you may have during this tenure. Before we begin, let you be informed I will keep a close eye on everything that goes on within my halls, and any uncouth behavior will be strictly punished. Despite the effort I and others have put in to make this experience as safe as possible, accidents are always a possibility, so behave if only for your own sakes."
His tone was flat throughout his speech, without a single inflection or raise, and his eyes calmly moved across the room. Despite the somewhat ominous contents, he delivered them with practiced familiarity. Altair wondered if his words would have any effect though, since anyone who wanted to make trouble would have made their mind up long ago and were unlikely to change it. There was more at stake here than just a school championship after all, and Altair had his own tasks to do here. Well, Sia had the majority of the work ahead of her, his job was just to make a few friends and stay out of trouble.
Mr. Lindt clasped his hands behind his back and moved back, causing several other instructors who had been waiting on the sidelines to step forward and begin issuing orders to the children. Altair and his classmates were quickly split up and sorted into groups formed from a student from each Class. The teams were split evenly by gender as far as Altair could see, with every group having two girls and two boys. Altair faced a brief moment of scrutiny from his groupmates before they looked away, but he detected a trace of recognition in the other boy. The two girls seemed ignorant of his identity or were just better at hiding their emotions.
Once there were no stray students left, the instructors took one group each. Altair's was a woman with long wine-colored hair and murky green eyes, somewhere in her late thirties to early forties. He didn't recognize her, but one of the girls did, meaning she probably taught in the two lower Classes. "You can call me Miss Roland" she introduced herself curtly, her voice soft and mellow. "You should get familiar with the three people next to you, because you'll be together for the next two weeks. After that, you'll engage in combat with the other groups."
She looked at Altair at the end, hesitation briefly occupying her voice and expression before she wiped it away. "You have five minutes to exchange information, so chop chop."
The other boy was Zillech, a mousy looking lad with tousled cyan hair and eyes a darker shade of blue. The two girls were Sophia and Greta, the former stout and with brown hair while the latter was quite tall and pretty, with hair a raven black and ruby eyes. After giving a brief introduction on himself too, Ms. Roland gathered their attention and took them to where the weapons rack was stationed. Altair took two daggers, frowning as he noticed they were different from his usual pair. 'Someone must have taken them' he figured, feeling a twinge of annoyance even as he knew there was nothing he could do other than get here earlier next time.
Zillech chose a leather Grimoire after flicking through the pages, apparently satisfied by the Spells within. Sky Cross had several such books for students to use, with all of hem sharing the same basic Spells, but a few being uniquely suited to certain positions. The training hall was inscribed with a multitude of runes that would instantly activate and cancel out any Magic strong enough to threaten a student, so everything was theoretically safe. From what Altair saw, Zillech was a defensive Mage.
Greta chose a wooden short sword for her weapon, only as long as her forearm but with a pronounced curve at the end. It wasn't quite a scimitar, but it didn't look like a standard straight sword either. It was Sophia that surprised Altair the most though, as she picked two thick wooden gauntlets for her weapon. bashing them against each other with a satisfied glint in her eyes. Altair wasn't sure how a fight would go down against her, but just the fact his weapon wad a very short range meant he would probably be at a disadvantage. After all, she was reasonably muscular for fourteen year old girl, and Altair would mistake her for a boy from behind. Against his own slim frame and grossly underdeveloped body, a direct clash would be brutal.
Once everyone was ready, Roland brought them over a square and asked who wanted to duel first. After a brief game of rock-paper-scissors, it was decided Zillech would face Sophia: a Spellcaster versus a close-range combatant, which Altair believed would end within a dozen moves. Either Sophia closes the distance and pummels Zillech, or Zillech gets his Spells off and blasts Sophia away. However, the boy was a Defensive Mage, so it was more likely to come down to a battle of stamina instead. Would Sophia tire out before breaking his shields?
As Altair eagerly watched and waited on the sidelines, Greta curiously observed him from behind. She held more interest in him than the match that was about to begin, but Altair was used to the stares so he didn't even turn around and just ignored her. She directed her attention away when the match started though, her eyes curling like crescents.
Zillech's book sprang open and the pages began flicking themselves, settling on the fourth. Sophia wasted no time and dashed forward, her arm already drawn back and gauntlet primed to smash in a kid's skull. The chance was squandered however, when a pale yellow barrier popped into existence before Zillech was hit. A dull thud rang out and Sophia flinched, quickly withdrawing her arm and extending the other instead. Her gauntlet glowed a light blue as she channeled her Mana, her strike causing a fracture in Zillech's shield. After only half a dozen blows, it shattered into nothing.
But by then, Zillech had already cast his second Spell: four small ice cones shot at the girl, forcing her to dodge backwards and lose her advantage. No longer pressed, Zillech visibly relaxed and kept up the fire, forcing Sophia to stay on her feet and denying any advancement. The stout girl kept her composure though, even as a scowl fixed itself on her face. She was constantly looking for a weakness or gap in Zillech's assault, and soon her new opportunity arrived.
After the fourth or fifth volley, Zillech was forced to stop as beads of perspiration dotted his forehead. His breath was labored as his Mana dropped considerably, and he eyed his opponent warily, another barrier already ready to be deployed. Sophia herself was also sweating, but she was in better shape than the boy and suffered less attrition from their exchange. Knowing the tides were turning against him, Zillech made the bold move of advancing forward, surprising Altair as he abandoned his Barrier and chose to unleash a thin bolt of lightning instead. It moved faster than the icicles, striking Sophia even as she managed to partially block with the gauntlets. She grunted in pain and momentarily spasmed before lunging forward, a triumphant grin on her face.
Zillech met her with equal determination, grimly planting on foot forward and gathered a significant amount of Mana, which Altair estimated to be most of what he still possessed. Time seemed to slow down as Sophia's fists inched closer to Zillech's nose, while Zillech in turn flipped to the last page of the Grimoire. Just as the air currents of Sophia's fist hit his nose, Zillech unleashed his spell. A large clump of stone and dirt shot out of the Grimoire and connected with Sophia's chest, triggering a rune beneath her feet that covered her in Mana. The damage nullified, the impact still sent her staggering back and onto the floor, gasping as the air was knocked out of her lungs.
Zillech himself was panting and fell to his knees, his eyes slightly bloodshot from the strain. Seeing the duel was over, Roland stepped forward and helped them both up. With a wave of her hand, the complexion of the two improved, and she helped them out of the ring. "Zillech Uhr is the winner of this bout. Would Altair and Greta please take their spots in the ring?"