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Chapter 8 - Sparring Practice

Cedar breathed heavily, dodging yet another punch thrown by Sinclair. Combative practice wasn't anything Cedar was very good at, but at least Paris had paired her with Sinclair; while he was shorter than her by an inch or so, they were matched with physical strength. She, however, was a bit quicker, simply because she was more slender; he was cleverer, throwing shots people wouldn't expect from a less than average fighter. Moment by moment, Cedar couldn't predict his movements, his attacks. Sinclair always had this glint in his eyes; almost taunting about how he knew things his opponent didn't know. 

Sinclair jabbed Cedar in the solar plexus, the face shot having been a distraction. The wind knocked out of her, the dark skinned girl stumbled, taking a knee; the sign of defeat in their practice. "Check mate, once again, Cedar," Sinclair teased, holding out a hand to help her out. "You'll be able to beat me, some day," he laughed as she pushed him playfully. Fixing his Mohawk so that it did not obscure his unusual, lizard tattoo, he looked to Paris. "How did I do?" the young man asked his mentor, looking to him for approval. 

"You did well, Sinclair. You're still very forward, which against Cedar works. However, if I put you up against Orion, you won't have half a chance doing that. You'll have to learn how to fight him, and others with different fighting styles. I am, in the long run, impressed with how much you've advanced in your fighting ability," he smiled, placing a hand on his young apprentices shoulder. Sinclair straightened, proud in his assessment. "Cedar," Paris waved her over to him. "You have to anticipate. Sinclair made a very good analogy; fighting is exactly like a game of chess. If you allow yourself to look beyond the moment, you'll get much better," he grinned happily. "Now, both of you, out to the garden. You have practical magic to practice. Please, find Orion on your way, and make sure he is studying as well," Paris shooed them on their way, and headed down the iron stairs. 

Sinclair groaned inwardly, looking out the window with a look of almost anger in his eyes. Cedar, on the other hand, giggled, almost excited about spending time in the garden. "How can you enjoy being out there with those…things?" the young man probed, his face contorted with disgust. Cedar shrugged, rolling her eyes at his dislike of the creatures that lived in Paris' garden. Before following Cedar down to the exit at the back of the South Wing, Sinclair strode up to the third floor, towards Orion's room.

Knocking on his friends door in his unusual, obnoxious rhythm, he called; "Orion! Paris says you have to come out to the garden and practice your practical magic with us," he snickered upon hearing the other young man groan. "I know, but what the Master Warlock says, goes!" he chimed in sarcastic excitement. Once Orion had exited his room, the two sauntered down the stairs, following the path Cedar had just taken down to the exit to the garden.