Fangirl

Chapter 15 Phillip

Martha and I had a big fight. Actually, it was me who was berating, and she was just standing there listening to my rant. Martha had decided to take part in the annual academy competition for the strongest benders.

It was held at the end of June, right after exams, to see who was the top-rank student mage by the results of the year. The academy leadership encouraged participation, considering it a great opportunity to motivate young benders to study hard.

All year long we worked our asses off cramming and practising to see how much stronger we had become by refining out skills and trying new spells in combat.

But you couldn't take it for fun unless you were watching from the stands. The fight was no joke, and the benders were breaking each other's bones with passion, showering the sand of the arena with blood. Of course, the healers could manage with anything, but it was nothing entertaining for those who came out into the circle.

'Why do you even want to do this?' I asked for the hundredth time.

'I wish to test myself in a real battle.'

'It's not really real. You'll be wearing protective bracelets, and the healers won't let anyone get hurt.'

'So there's nothing to worry about then,' she smiled disarmingly.

Oh, for crying out loud!

'I'm worried about you getting hurt. And I don't understand why you'd put yourself through that. Did you see who's going in there?'

Martha stared back at me patiently as I paced in front of the park bench, trying to reason with her.

'Seniors!' I continued in a huff. 'They have the advantage... In everything! They're older, more experienced, know a lot more spells. And they're sick to death of sitting on the bench, they're eager to fight. They enjoy painting each other's faces in black and blue, you should see them training!'

I wasn't lying. Everyone was practising in the gym and in the open area, regardless of the course. The girls were training separately, having their own space no less eagerly than boys. And so I could see what was going on between the most zealous.

Our course — the fourth — was considered to be the middle level of education, as well as the fifth, and there were already fierce clashes among us to find out who was a better bender.

It was getting harder and harder to keep Gregory within the bounds of tolerance. He turned into a roaring rockfall striving to destroy his rival. Only Maxim managed to bring him to his senses. But even such fights could not be compared to the way the senior courses were dealing between each other.

We often watched magic duels. The opponents would take cover in the dome and the fight would begin. There was always a guard on duty at any venue, just in case. Even though the benders were supposed to wear protective bracelets that prevented them from causing serious damage to health, there was still an observer. They made sure that all the rules were followed, but still we could feel the attention of the training staff to the way we measured our magic potential.

After the fight, both opponents often looked no better than chops. There was no threat to life — the bracelets wouldn't allow it — but the battles were fierce, and the guys were very serious. Especially the ones who were going to compete at the end of the year.

I had long ago decided that getting involved in such a mess was foolish. My average magic resource wasn't conducive to making stupid decisions like that. And the reward was just a status, so I certainly didn't need it.

When Martha first voiced her idea of taking part, I thought she was joking. Strange jokes, perhaps, were to be expected from her. But when she started training for the competition I got worried.