The Necromancer

Chapter Eight

The schedule (which resembled more of a daily planner) Nathan had received during breakfast was very rude. It liked to talk back to him and point out that it knew more than him. Idiot, you're going the wrong way. Defensive and Offensive Magic is upstairs, the schedule remarked. If you had even glanced at the map on the back you would know that.

Cursing under his breath, Nathan changed his course and walked up the nearest flight of stairs. He turned a corner down a long, narrow hallway. The hallway curved right until finally ending, leaving him in the same place he started.

Nathan flipped to the back cover, but the map was even less useful. The words marking major landmarks within the school seemed to be written in another language. Hallways seemed like a blurry mess of lines. It was impossible to decipher which way he was supposed to go.

"Stupid map," he mumbled. One minute he was walking in circles, the next he found himself crashing to the floor. A girl struggled to pick up all of her fallen things a few feet away.

"I am so sorry," she apologized.

"It's fine. No harm done." He handed her a few stray books.

Her eyes locked onto his. "You're the Necromancer kid, aren't you?"

Without replying, he threw his backpack over his shoulder and stalked off in what he hoped was the right direction. The girl hurried after him.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to offend you. I'm Amarantha Elizabeth Clarke." Nathan just stared at his map. "You're holding it upside down." She grabbed it from him and turned it right side up before returning it. "The red dot is where you are. The blue dot is where you are going. The red line is the path you are supposed to follow to get there."

"Thanks," Nathan murmured.

"No problem. Looks like we're both going to Defensive and Offensive Magic. I'll walk with you, that way you can't get lost."

With Amarantha as his guide, Nathan successfully made it to his first class without anymore detours. The classroom, if you could even call it that, was devoid of all desks and chairs. Instead large mats covered the floor. Even though the walls were painted gray, the plaster was speckled with black spots from an explosion of some sort. A whiteboard detailed the lesson plan for the day: Basic Defensive Maneuvers.

Students clustered near the edge of the mats, waiting for instructions. A man wearing black sweatpants and a gray t-shirt stood in front of the class on the mats, arms folded. His brown hair was cut military short. His features were hardened into a permanent frown. "I am Professor Hernandez. Pair off and find a place on the mats."

"Did you want to be partners?" Amarantha asked.

"Don't you want to be partners with one of your friends from your specialization?"

She shook her head. "Eh, not really. They're all insufferable and quite cliquey. They refuse to branch out and meet other people. I'd rather hang out with you."

Nathan shrugged. "Fine."

"Your auras," Professor Hernandez began, allowing his to materialize around him, "can be a great weapon if wielded properly. The more magic you use up, the more your aura starts to break down. You will start to see cracks spiderwebbing throughout as your magic depletes. Few wizards have survived their magic shattering completely. With that said, you must learn your limits. With time and practice you can grow your pool of magic."

His aura molded into a shield. "Today each of you will practice molding your aura into different shapes. Then you will grab a wooden practice staff and try your hand at hand to hand combat." Professor Hernandez demonstrated several of the basic maneuvers before he motioned for us to begin. His hawk-like eyes scanned over each student, pointing out mistakes, errors, or a better method of executing a maneuver.

Taking a deep breath, Nathan concentrated on materializing his aura. An inky black aura slowly materialized around him. He drew a few stares from the other students, but Professor Hernandez barked at them to focus and they quickly turned away.

Concentrating, his aura transformed from a sphere into a wall in front of him. It began to dematerialize quickly as he turned his attention away from his aura. Focusing once more, the wall reformed. Nathan ran through several different shield types before looking over at Amarantha.

A wicked smile graced Amarantha's lips and she tossed one staff to Nathan before grabbing one for herself. "Ready?"

He nodded once, holding his staff at the ready. Her stick connected with his jaw faster than he could even blink. "Ouch."

Amarantha smiled prettily. "Sorry. Again?"

Nathan tightened his grip on his staff, nodding. Amarantha wasted no time, jabbing his side with the staff.

"Norwood, you left yourself wide open for attack both times. Where was your shield?" Professor Hernandez pointed out. "Focus less on attacking and more on your shield. Again."

Nathan focused on the shield in front of him as Amarantha's onslaught rained down once more. This time, however, his shield didn't dematerialize and he blocked each attack. Feeling confident about not getting hit, Nathan attempted to strike her leg, but failed when her shield blocked it. Losing his concentration, Amarantha struck once again.

The lesson continued like that: Nathan attempting to land a hit on Amarantha but ultimately leaving himself vulnerable for an attack where she would swoop in and win.

When class ended Nathan turned to Amarantha as they put away the staffs. "Where did you learn to fight like that? Your shield didn't disappear once throughout the entire class period."

"My specialization is aura bending. Concentrating on keeping my aura in a particular shape has never been a problem for me."

"Yeah, but what about the staff wielding?"

"Oh that, my parents are among the Elite Guardians. They are sworn to protect the magical realm, specifically the counsel that rules it. They taught me how to fight and protect myself."