The World's Start

Jack

"The first test is the first thing we learn once we arrive here," Mister Tenney said. "Hand-to-hand combat. The first one to pass out, loses. I do not want any of you killing the other, is that understood?"

The last question was one that the Professor and headmaster often asked. He'd stress frequently that he didn't want one of his students being killed out of carelessness. Firstly, there were too few of them. Secondly, it would taint the School's already not-quite-pristine reputation.

The thought had been drilled for so long in their heads that the weirdest thing had started to happen --- once in a while, they all would dream of one of the students dying. It didn't matter how it happened, or who it was. Everyone felt incredibly bad about it for days afterwards. Ken had cried, the first time it happened, and he wasn't particularly soft-hearted.

Jack briefly wondered if he would have liked to kill Heath, had the Professor not stressed these words. After all, Leo had suggested it before. But it didn't matter how much he hated the Laoch, which was an awful lot, he didn't think he could really bring himself to murder anyone. Well, at least, not on purpose.

Heath's hands flew to Jack's neck while he was still lost in thought. Jack freed himself from his grip by hitting him below the waist with his bended knee. The two had often been paired together in the previous lessons, given their similar body types, and their moves looked rehearsed like those of two dancers.

"For your information," Jack said, as Heath slammed him against the wall. "I might dress like a pimp, but at least I am dressed."

"Are you still referring to the shower incident?" Heath panted, as Jack was twisting his wrist backwards, trying to sprain it.

"I am," he said. "I did see something other than your hair, otherwise I wouldn't still be disgusted."

Disgusted wasn't the right word --- Jack was more haunted than anything else, uncapable of deleting the mental image from his brain. Given the quality of the content and the consent with it had been given, he wasn't even sure he wanted to. And he absolutely hated that.

"You?" Heath laughed, punching him in the stomach. "Disgusted by sex? I don't believe it for a second."

They were both too good at this. It might have taken hours for one of them to pass out. Jack wondered if the Professor would allow the match to go on for days --- he didn't think so.

"If it's you," Jack bit back. "I could be disgusted by anything."

Jack's feelings towards Heath weren't just born out of annoyance. They belonged to a dark, hidden, place in his soul. Somewhere where he'd stopped believing in magic and good, everything the Laoch was supposed to stand for, before this young man even showed up in his life. And when he did, it was suddenly so much worse. To put it simply, Jack didn't think Heath deserved the power he'd been given.

"If you used your magic, this could be over in seconds," Jack taunted him. It was yet another thing he couldn't understand about his opponent. Why didn't he cheat and hurt others to make his way in the world? Everybody did it. Jack could not believe anyone, not even the Laoch, could be different. If they thought they were, they were just being dishonest with themselves and anyone else.

But Jack wasn't fighting dirty either. The truth was, he'd given a few well-deserved punches, but, other than that, he wouldn't start fights out of the lessons. And, in his life, he'd taken a lot more hits than he had given.

It wasn't entirely out of kindness --- Jack sometimes felt so impossibly angry that he was afraid that, once he'd really started, he would be unable to stop.

The fight was already leaving Jack. He wasn't tired, but, if the other man wasn't taunting him, he found out that he cared little to hurt him --- even if it was at the Professor's request.