“Thank you,” Damien said.

“Something tells me that you’re going to ignore my future suggestions for spells as well,” Delph said, stroking his beard.

“It’s possible,” Damien admitted.

“Then I’ll let you keep at it, Savant,” Delph said. The way he said the word didn’t sound like a compliment. “I’m not going to interfere with things you’re good at. It’s much more effective to focus on what you’re bad at – which is quite a bit.”

Damien just nodded. Delph knelt, keeping his eyes on the boy as he raised a hand over the sand and formed it into a stick. The professor picked it up and quirked an eyebrow at Damien.

Neither of them said anything. Delph swung the stick horizontally at Damien’s left arm. Damien hardened the mage armor in time to negate the strike, but he didn’t get a chance to celebrate his small victory. Delph continued with his momentum, bringing the stick around and rapping Damien on his other arm.

“Do not gloat in victory,” Delph instructed, jabbing Damien’s stomach with the tip of the stick. He didn’t harden the mage armor in time and doubled over, groaning in pain.

Delph smacked him in the back with the stick. Then he did it again. The third time, Damien hardened the armor and deflected the strike.

“Do not falter in defeat,” Delph said, jabbing Damien in the chest as he stood up. This time, the mage amor hardened fast enough to block the attack. “Your enemy will not stop fighting you because you are injured.”

They continued the pattern. Delph would strike Damien several times, instructing him in between swings. Whenever it seemed like Damien was starting to get a handle on things, Delph increased the speed of his attacks to keep the boy on his toes.

By the time an hour had passed, Damien’s old bruises had bruises. Delph finally took pity on him and tossed the stick back into the sand. Damien let out a heavy sigh and lowered his guard just in time to get kicked in the chest.

He tumbled across the ground, then rolled clumsily to his feet and popped up, hardening his armor and crossing his hands before him in time to catch another kick.

“The battle isn’t over until your opponent is dead,” Delph said. Then he paused. “Or until I verbally tell you it is. Good job on the last catch, though.”

Damien gave him a small nod. The only part of his body that didn’t hurt was his head, and that was because Delph had avoided it. He watched the professor with wary eyes, making no moves to lower his guard.

After a few moments, Delph smirked. “Good. This exercise is now over. You may lower your guard.”

Damien allowed his arms to drop, but he didn’t allow himself to relax. If Delph noticed it, he didn’t say anything.

“How are you feeling on Ether usage? Can you do more?” Delph asked.

“Yes.”

“Good. You’re lucky to have a large capacity for Ether,” Delph said, resuming his infuriating habit of walking in a circle around Damien, forcing the boy to slowly turn to keep his eye on the professor. “Now, there’s no reason for me to have you stand around and cast spells. You can do that on your own time. Your body is too worn out to do anything physical today, so we’re done for now.”

The sun broke over the edge of the arena, casting it in a dull orange light. With a start, Damien realized they’d been training for the better portion of the morning. He inclined his head respectfully towards Delph – but not so far that he couldn’t see the man.

“Thank you.”

“It’s my job,” Delph said. “And you seem different today. Not sure what you’ve changed, but keep it up. I’ll reveal more in the actual class today, but ranking fights are coming up next week. I expect you to do decent.”

With that, Delph’s cloak wrapped around him. He shrank into a small point and vanished, leaving Damien alone on the sand.

“How does he do that?” Damien wondered aloud.

“Space magic,” Henry said. “It’s a fancy version of a teleportation.”

“Can I learn it?”

“Eventually. For you, it wouldn’t be very easy. You need more practice with low level spells, and it’s a high level one.”

“Okay. Do you know what spell I should work on next? Or do I keep at the gravity sphere until I master it?”

“Mastering a spell will take much too long,” Henry said. “You only need a good understanding of it. Mastery can come later. Your professor mentioned something about fighting, so you’ll need something offensive. I’ll think about it.”

Damien nodded. He headed out of the arena, his legs wobbling as he walked. Students were already milling about the campus, but it wasn’t particularly crowded. He stopped by the mess hall and got the free meal, eating it as quickly as possible before making his way back to the cave.

He was still trying to get the taste of the awful food out of his mouth when he got back. The Grays’ curtain was closed, and Mark didn’t appear to be in his room. When Damien stepped into his own room, he heard faint noises coming from within it.

The main area was empty when he arrived, as was the bathroom. Using the wall for support, Damien made his way down the tunnel and peered into the training room. Sylph stood at its center, tiny strands of dark energy twirling around her.

The girl’s eyes were closed in concentration, and her lips were pressed thin. Damien stepped back silently, doing his best not to bother her as he left the room.

“Why are we leaving?” Henry asked. “That’s our training room.”

She looked busy. There’s no reason to bother her. Besides, I’m getting fed up with eating vomit. If I’m saving my money, I’d like to find a place selling those herbs you talked about. There are a few hours until Delph’s class, so I might as well do it now.

“Sure,” Henry griped. “Just waddle over there like a duck.”