Sorcery at its Highest

1

I stepped into the ring inside the arena, lacing my fingers together as I offered a silent prayer to Feris.

I glanced around the ring. I saw Leinster's smug face looking at me.

"Fill your cores," the trainer said, her raspy voice echoing through the ring.

I took a deep breath sensing the ure around me, the source of our sorcery. The feeling of ure around me spread warmth through my body, making me feel protected. I closed my eyelids, focusing on the warmness. Faint spots started coming into view, getting brighter until they were clear enough to see. I saw five vibrant colors - gold, silver, green, turquoise, and purple.

I concentrated on all the silver spots. Silver's the only color my core will accept.

Silver, that's all I need.

I started perceiving all the silver spots around me, millions of them. I brought them all to me, guiding them to my core, the second heart of sorcerers. When my core filled up, the silver spots stopped, frozen in time again. My eyes flung open to meet Leinster's smirk.

"Still so shit at gathering ure?" he taunted me.

"You're not the one who needs a particular color of ure,"

"Such a shame. I remember when I wasn't advanced gathering ure was quite the trouble,"

"Let's just fucking start the match," I tried to act calm.

"Wait, Venn thinks he can win when he can't even make a simple wall, " he guffawed.

"We'll see who'll be the one laughing when the-"

"Stop the childish act, both of you. Is this what you're both going to do during the war?" the trainer cut me off.

The trainer tossed me a small chunk of iron and a small piece of leather.

"Make something," she instructed.

Sweat trickled down my back as I concentrated on the weapon I was making. I felt the ure moving from my core and into my right hand, in which I held the materials. A faint silver light radiated from my right hand as the iron started taking shape, growing and expanding until it became a 120cm sword with thin edges allowing for smoother cuts. When the blade formed, the leather completely wrapped around the hilt.

"Are you both ready?" the trainer asked.

Both of us nodded in response. I caught a glimpse of Leinster's blue eyes intensified, his lanky framed stilled with his hand poised over his spear.

"Let me say the rules, no fatal attacks, the person that gets knocked out, leaves the ring, or surrenders loses," the trainer's face lit up with a smile, "Begin!"