Stories from the WAMA

Battle Mage

The practice range was located outside Warsaw. There was a building that housed the changing rooms, offices and indoor practice rooms for when the weather is bad. Next to the building, there was a big open area surrounded by a metal fence. Behind it, there was a road on one side and a forest on the other. It was almost an ideal place for a weekend picnic. However, Dawid wasn't there for a picnic. He was there to practice battle magic. It was his first time on the range. Earlier during the academic year, there were only theoretical lessons that were preparing them for this. Dawid remembered all the safety tips and the illustrations of the spell techniques. Part of him was eager to try the techniques out. While the other part was stressed.

"Hi, Dayvid?" he heard a voice and turned around.

It was Mark, one of the foreign students in his group. He was standing on the other side of the changing room.

"It's David, without the 'y' "

"Sorry, I'm still getting used to Polish names," Mark laughed. "Excited?"

"Yes, of course," said Dawid with vague enthusiasm.

Mark didn't reply. He put his bag in the locker and went out of the changing room. Not much later Dawid did the same, as it was time to start the lesson. He exited the building and entered the field. He stood in the row with the other students. The coach was already there. He looked at Dawid and shook his head. Dawid looked to the ground and remained silent.

"Attention!" the coach shouted

Students stood straight. Dawid was trying to look at the coach and hide from his gaze at the same time

"Good to see that there is proper discipline in this group. Let's start with something simple"

The coach stood sideways to the group and moved his right leg forward, and moved his hands up so his fists were right in front of his face. He looked like a boxer ready to punch.

"This is a basic pyromancer stance," the coach said," it allows you to maintain balance and protect your face. Ignis!"

A fire appeared on the coach's fists and he started to move his hands forward like he was punching the air. Every time an arm was extended a fire missile was shot from that arm. For a brief moment after each shot, fire on the fist appeared smaller, but it was quickly regaining its strength. After a few shots, the coach extinguished the fire and exited the position. He swept his gaze across the students and stopped at Dawid.

"Maybe Mr Nowak will start?"

Dawid slowly walked towards the coach. He got into the position and concentrated on creating fire. With his mind's eye, he saw two sparks forming, one in each fist. Strangely, however, he didn't feel any energy build-up in his body. The coach was looking at him and waiting for results. Dawid couldn't wait any longer.

"Ignis!" he shouted but nothing happened.

"Concentrate! Imagine sparks of fire in your fists," said the coach.

Dawid concentrated even more on the fire. The image in his mind's eye became as clear as a photograph. However, he still didn't feel any energy build-up.

"Ignis!" Dawid shouted again, but still, nothing was happening.

"Enough, Dawid, "said the coach, "What's happening?"

"I don't know. For some reason, I can't cast," said Dawid.

"Return to the line and watch the others."

Dawid spent the rest of the time looking at his friends casting the fire missiles. What happened was embarrassing. He was blocked in front of his whole group. He, a son of one of the most decorated battle mages in the Polish Armed Forces, couldn't cast a simple fire missile. He should have cast it without a problem. Dawid was already imagining his father's reaction. That evening wouldn't be pleasant. While thinking about it Dawid lost track of time and after a while, it was already break-time.