Drake sat in the back of the lecture hall, as he always did, his eyes set in a thousand-yard stare, still caught in the aftermath of the awkwardness that had consumed him when he left his dorm room that afternoon.
Xena was quiet to his left, and Mark was hunched to his right, his sharp eyes darting over to Drake with a look of concern. "Hey, buddy, what's wrong? You look beat today. You look like you haven't slept a wink." Mark propped his left elbow on the desk, his hand cupping his chin as he regarded Drake with amusement.
Drake exhaled loudly, the weight of fatigue burrowing deeper into his bones. "Yeah, I tried to practice something and ended up running out of mana," he grumbled, missing the slightest shift in Mark's expression.
He didn't have to wait long before Mark's face broke into an unmistakable grin. Realization dawned, and Drake's eyes widened in mock horror. "No! That's not it! You've misunderstood." He groaned, trying to clear up the confusion, his hands grasping Mark's shoulders in a futile attempt to explain.
Mark laughed even harder, shaking his head in an attempt to repress the laughter. "Yeah, yeah, I get it," he snorted, the grin on his face now wider. "But I just can't stop."
"I am serious!" Drake insisted, narrowing his eyes to Mark in annoyance, but Mark did not deter and his mirth continued to pop up despite Drake's best efforts.
Mark sprang to his feet, stretching his body as if suddenly racked by some great inspiration, pivoting to face Xena. "Sister-in-law," he sang out in facetious greeting. "How was your first night with Drake?"
Xena, without missing a beat, clutched Drake's arm tightly to her chest, her voice soft and warm. "It was really great," she replied, her words filled with a warmth that made Drake's heart skip. "That will be the most memorable night I'll ever have." She turned to smile at Drake, the depth of affection in her eyes unspoken but understood.
Mark, unable to hold back from bursting into laughter, fell back into his seat, shaking his head in utter disbelievement. Drake threw his head back into his right hand and looked up into the air in a silent capitulation.
The murmur in the hall ceased abruptly when Victoria Luther stepped onto the podium, commanding the room silent without uttering a word. She had a stack of papers precariously balanced in her right hand as she swept her gaze across the class, locking eyes with Drake's for one brief, intense instant.
A sudden strike of curiosity hit him, and he leaned toward Mark. "What is she doing up there?" he whispered, not being able to hide the question from his voice.
Mark swung back in his chair, his arms folded, an almost smug grin spreading across his features. "You likely don't know this yet, but Professor Leo has appointed Victoria Luthor our class rep."
Victoria now took to the podium. "I have just come from Professor Leo's office to distribute these forms," she said in firm, assured tones. She raised one of the forms in her left hand for emphasis.
"This form lists all the courses offered at the academy. Three courses are preselected for you: The Art of Mental and Resilience Toughness, Strategic and Teamwork, and The Foundation of Magic, taught by Professor Leo himself. I will begin passing the forms around. Choose your remaining courses wisely."
She stepped down from the podium, the rustle of papers and quiet murmur of conversations filled the air as the students eagerly started choosing their classes.
Mark's eyes finally fell on Drake's form and he noted the classes he had chosen. "Sword Mastery and Its Stance? But you are a mage. Why would you need Weapons Mastery?"
Drake met Mark's curious stare and shrugged. "I'm going to take swordsmanship classes." His voice was flat, neutral. "Being a mage doesn't mean I can't learn anything else. I'm not giving up magic; I just add to my repertoire.
That's why I chose The Art of Materialization and Spellcasting as my fifth class." He raised an eyebrow at Mark. "And you?
Mark responded seamlessly, showing Drake his own form as well. "I only chose Fist Mastery and Stance."
The class responded with a murmuring buzz as students began filling out the forms and awaiting whatever might be next, then without warning the lights changed and in strode a girl: in a plum-coloured dress with black shoes and hat to match; in the bright fluorescent lights above, her bright blue tresses blazed like a fire.
Her eyes, darting resolutely around the room, held every pair in their wake as she strode up to the podium.
At 5.6 feet, she was an unobtrusive giant, a complete contrast from the pervasive normalcy. The students turned silent, their eyes following her every move. She moved toward them and viewed the room in a sweep. "Good morning, class," she said-clear, inimitable, balanced, yet carrying an undeniable weight of authority.
The class rose, their bodies seemingly getting a cue. "Good morning, ma'am," they chorused respectfully and curiously. They sat down almost immediately as she turned to the board behind her and wrote out the topic she would be handling.
"My name is Amara," she began, her tone suddenly firm as she wheeled around to face the class. "I'll be taking you through Strategic and Teamwork today." She allowed it to sink in awhile before proceeding.
"Who can tell me why strategy and teamwork are necessary for humans and mages?"
Victoria, ever so confident, hitched up her hand. "For easy eradication of enemies and reduction of time consumption," she furnished, her voice sounding confident but somewhat raw.
Professor Amara arched her head from side to side in a light but sure correction. "You are partly right, but not that. Anyone else?" Her view swept across the room, and Drake, sensing the challenge in that, raised his hand and stood.
"To complement human frailties and facilitate social interaction," he said in a firm, clear voice.
Professor Amara's eyes lit up in excitement and her smile stretched further. "That's right!" she exclaimed in a tone of approval. "And your name is?" she asked, her finger pointed at Drake.
"Alexander Drake," he stuttered, his heart racing from the lingering of her attention on him.
"Oh, you're the rumored guy around the academy," she remarked with a smile, her eyes gleaming with something unreadable. "You can sit." She turned her attention back to the class, her voice once again commanding the room.
"Strategy and teamwork have been parts of human activities since the dawn of time, even before the era of mana and magic," she began, her voice becoming more contemplative as she spoke.
"Human fragility had causes: behavior and physical constraints, relationships with the environment. In return, the humans designed resourceful countermeasures. But then, when magic finally came, humans arrogant and prideful, cast these methods aside until they felt that no matter how much strength or magic they gained, they still remained so fragile. It was then that they noticed strategy and cooperation were essential."
She paused, her words hanging in the air like a heavy unspoken meaning. "This is why this course is compulsory for every aspiring mage and warrior. For perfect teamwork, there are three important roles required for any given team: offense, defense, and support.
The offensive roles include war mages, warriors, spellcasters, and archers. Defensive roles are filled by shield mages and ward weavers. The supportive roles include healers, medic mages, arcane amplifiers. A team should have one person in each of these roles.
Her eyes glinted as she gave her final command. "After class, you all are to form into teams of three, based on these guidelines. Study your teammates well in advance of the day of physical training.
And remember, at all times, defenses up and guarded. We would not have them carry out a repetition of what happened to your seniors prior to promotion. Have a great afternoon.
With that, Professor Amara turned and left the room, her action releasing palpable tension into the air. The students grew uneasy, murmuring among themselves as the weight of her words lingered.
Drake leaned toward Mark, speaking in a low tone. "Why does the air feel so thick with sorrow?
Mark's face clouded and his eyes fastened unyieldingly on the door Amara had disappeared through. "Let's just say, for some of the students here, the past still lingers.