The Chosen

I placed my book on top of a rough, cedar desk and curled my hands into a ball in my lap, listening to Professor Fernier. He was a rather vivacious man when it came to practicing the art of self-preservation. His face as well as his mind held no hidden reservations about having me in his class, and for once, I was at ease. Perhaps the Headmistress was right about having me enter this class, even if she did approach it in the worst possible way. Bringing up the titles of my parents, and suggesting I could become the brunt of their choices was a low blow – even extending to a crucial mental lapse on her behalf.

Professor Fernier continued where he had left off, “As I was saying, we will be splitting up into pairs, just as before working on undercuts as well as side swipes. Since we have an odd number of seven here today, it would my pleasure,” the Professor turned his glance on me, “to have Ms. Godrich be my partner in an advanced modicum of practice. Even so, I do wish to switch partners throughout class time – perhaps one of you would like a shot at Ms. Godrich. Nothing more fun than a little healthy competition I always say.” He winked.

“That being said,” he reached on his desk for his clipboard, “Mr. Cross, you will be pairing with Dobson. Mr. Leventhall, you are with Van Leewuen,” his gaze slipped to the boy as he sighed, “Yes, yes Henry, we can’t always be boy-girl sensitive! Versatility is the most prominent trait to have! Ah, yes,” he referred back to his clipboard, “Kent, you are with Mr. Christopher. Then Ms. Michel, you will be paired with another new addition to our class, Ms. Halifax.” He smiled at the meek, freckled girl warmly before settling his eyes to me. “And last but most definitely not least, Ms. Godrich will be sparring with me. Get to your spots in the ring and begin!”

There was a shuffling and squeaking of chairs being pushed back, and the pairs of duelers split off into their appropriate places. My gaze was intent on the Professor as he was pushing up his sleeves. He smiled at me, “Ah, Ms. Godrich. I assume you are familiar with the standard levels of defensive techniques?”

I nodded my head once in affirmation; the Professor did not seem surprised. “Very good. Then we shall spar in the ring. Would you like me to take the offensive first, or—?”

“That would be fine,” was my immediate response.

The “ring” consisted of a rectangular mat – 10 feet wide by 20 feet in length – there were chalk marks identifying where the boundaries were set. I started two feet in; the distance with which one was expected to meet in such proceedings. I released my navy blue cape from my shoulders – underneath lay a crisp white elbow-length shirt along with a loose bow at the neck. The Professor did the same, only his had the emblem of our school attached to his, and his neckpiece was, of course, a tie. He smiled at me, and bowed. I curtsied, and stood tall, my feet merely inches apart. “Whenever you are ready, Ms. Godrich, I shall begin.”

“I am ready.” I said confidently as I was already reading his attacks he planned to use against me.

The Professor crouched into a runner’s position, and flung himself at me. His left hand arched through the air and ultimately came together with his right to making a shoving motion toward me. Only it wasn’t technically air he was bending to his will – it was hyper electric charges condensly controlled into a massive ball. I waited until the synthesization of energies reached within a few feet of me before raising a hand stop it altogether. The ball of essentially high powered electricity spun around in circles before I grasped even more of the kinetic energies coming from within me and added it to the mass. My eyes flashed and then dimmed as the energy left me, and I side-swiped it back toward him. I was really playing nice – if I had wanted to, I could’ve unleashed multiple balls of electrical energy as well as different elements, but since he chose to start off mild, I would too.

With an extended effort, Professor Fernier swung the mass around his form until he retained it enough to control it. I read the decision before it was made: he would utilize speed this time in order to catch me off guard. Not likely. He brought the mass forward then back in a rocking motion until it gathered more speed. I sighed mentally, and proceeded to destroy the mass of electricity altogether seconds after it was released. Professor’s mouth hung in amazement for a moment before he reminded himself of my abilities. I harnessed the fire that flickered in the numerous lightings splattered across the room and brought it forth into my grasp. My arms grew wide centralizing the cluster of power into a short expanse. My pupils dilated with the sudden intake of power, and my feet rose an inch off the mat. Spinning in a circle, I threw the contents of my power aggressively back at the Professor.

From then on, it was mostly Professor Fernier who did the defensive work.