David pushed open the door to his room and slammed it behind him. He balled his fists so hard that his knuckles turned white.
Flashing through his mind were images of what should have been impossible for his age group.
'Air Battle Arts my foot!' he cursed.
It so happened that in his memories of the brutal training session he had with Arthur, he could have sworn the prince was surrounded by undulating air currents bending to his will.
Even when those air currents gave away his movements, the sheer speed and gracefulness of their execution made them impossible to dodge.
'Argh,' David slammed his fist into the wall beside his door.
He wasn't particularly known for being tidy but with his mood this rotten, he only felt the need to throw everything into further disarray.
He wanted to blow some steam… if only he had the energy for it.
