"Pathetic!" Brightblade shouted. "That wouldn't even kill a pigeon!"
Arran groaned in exhaustion, then began to form another Flamestrike with the sliver of Fire Essence that was left in his body.
As he struggled with the spell, a mass of Wind Essence shot from Brightblade's hand and rammed into the Wind Shield that Snowcloud hurriedly formed to protect herself. The hasty defense merely weakened the attack, and Snowcloud was sent sprawling to the ground.
"Not good enough! My next attack will be stronger!" A grin on her face, Brightblade turned back to Arran. "Are you trying to wait me to death? Attack already!"
Arran let out another deep groan, then shot yet another Flamestrike at his teacher.
It was slightly better than his previous attempt, he thought. While it might not kill a pigeon, he was reasonably confident it could at least injure one.
