“Stand about ten paces from each other,” Voltan said, as the pairs of students spread out across the open area. “Now, face each other.” Each pair faced off in readiness for combat. “Decide between yourselves who is going first, and you can begin.”
“Do you want to...” Gaspi started to say, when Everand thrust his arms out and sent a burst of wind flying at Gaspi. Gaspi didn’t have time to defend himself, and staggered backwards as it hit him. As he staggered he caught one foot on the other, and went flopping onto his backside in the dirt. Most of the class burst out laughing, and Gaspi angrily pushed himself to his feet, glaring at a grinning Everand.
“Idiot!” Gaspi hissed to himself. Why had he acted the gentleman? He should have known Everand would play dirty. He dusted himself off, and stepped back to his place.
“Okay... it’s my turn”, he said flatly. Everand didn’t look exactly nervous, but Gaspi could tell he was concentrating with every ounce of his strength. Gaspi swung his arms around in a circle, bringing them back round until his hands were almost touching. He thrust them forwards, using his magic to compress and push the air at his opponent. He put all his will into it, shoving it out with as much force as he could muster. The strike flew away from him, ripping up the dust from the ground in an impressive trail. Gaspi had deliberately contained the edges of the strike to make a harder, narrower stream. Everand tried to replicate what Lydia had done and part it around him, but Gaspi’s strike burst right through whatever Everand had tried to construct, hitting him like a punch in the stomach. The taller boy grunted loudly, span around backwards, and fell face-first to the ground.
“Everybody stop!” Voltan shouted. The students started gathering around Gaspi and Everand, as Voltan helped the prostrate boy to his feet. Everand’s face was covered in dust, and he looked furious.
“He cheated,” the tall boy said, spitting out a mouthful of dust as he pointed at Gaspi, hate flashing in his eyes.
“No...he didn’t cheat,” Voltan said. “He just sent a very hard strike.” Gaspi couldn’t tell if Voltan was angry, or pleased. “How did you do it, Gaspi?” he asked. “Everand’s shield would have been pretty strong.”
“I forced the air into a narrower strike, so it would hit harder,” Gaspi answered without embellishment, not taking his eyes off Everand, who looked ready to jump on him.
“That was good thinking,” Voltan said, gaining a look of stupefied surprise from Everand. “A narrower stream means more force, like when you pinch a water pipe,” the teacher added.
“But sir!” Everand said, spluttering incoherently.
“But nothing, Everand!” Voltan said firmly. “This is the kind of thinking we want from you all. Make your attacks harder to defend against. Be creative,” he said. “Okay - back to your places. Everand take a break, and I’ll partner Gaspi,” he said.
Once the other students had walked away, Voltan leaned in to Gaspi. “And Gaspi,” he added, “be careful how much power you use. We don’t want anyone injured now, do we?” he asked, holding Gaspi’s gaze long enough for the young magician to understand that his feelings towards Everand had not gone unnoticed.
“No sir,” he answered, trying not to show the lingering pleasure he felt at the memory of Everand dropping like a sack of potatoes. For the rest of the lesson Voltan put Gaspi through his paces, trying different strengths and shapes of air strike. He got Gaspi several times by slipping around or under his shields, and Gaspi, forced to concentrate hard on the exercise, began to enjoy himself, any residual anger at Everand slipping away in the wake of genuine satisfaction. After another hour, Voltan dismissed them, and the students started to disperse. Gaspi joined Emmy and was walking away with her, when a blast of air caught him from behind and sent him sprawling onto his face. He sprang to his feet to find Emmy had also been hit and was sitting in the dust with a look of surprise on her face, blood trickling from one of her nostrils. Gaspi span around to find Everand standing nearby, the obvious culprit of the attack.
“Emea, I’m sorry,” he said sincerely. “I didn’t mean to hit you.” Gaspi paid no attention, his long-stored anger at the bully bubbling over into a white hot rage. He thrust a finger at the sky, and beckoned towards the clouds scudding overhead. If Everand wanted to play with breezes, he would show him how it was done. Everand looked perplexed, glancing upwards in confusion. Gaspi reached out instinctively with his senses, feeling for the powerful flow of the winds blowing far above him. It was easy to do, the thick flows of air so much stronger higher up than they were nearer the ground. Entranced by the sheer amount of energy he found, he called it to his service. He drew some of it down, gathering in enough to form a violent gale. The wind responded to the call of a Nature Mage, moving under the direction of its natural master.
Gaspi brought the gale swirling down above him, until it beat furiously in a wide circuit of the courtyard, chasing its own tail as it circled him. Sensing the turbulence, Everand looked up - firstly in confusion, and then in fearful comprehension, as the head of the gale swooped over him with an ear-popping rush. Gaspi brought the gale round behind him once more, controlling it with wide motions of his arms, before leaping forward and thrusting both hands out at Everand. Everand held up a hand in futile denial, eyes wide with fear as the windstorm come boiling down over Gaspi’s head and along the ground towards him. It ripped up the dust in massive, roiling clouds, racing towards the helpless magician. Just before it reached him, Gaspi heard a faint cry of “No!”
Everand was picked up and sent tumbling backwards across the yard, falling head over heels several times before Gaspi closed his hand, and Everand rolled to a stop. Everand got to his hands and knees and looked up in Gaspi’s direction, his face white with shock. Gaspi gave a flick of his hand, and one last slap of wind sent him flying onto his back once more. Releasing his held breath, Gaspi turned both hands palms upwards and the remaining trapped forces were released, dissipating into the air. Dust settled slowly back to the ground like mist, mirroring the calm that was returning to Gaspi’s thoughts.
There was total silence in the courtyard. Everand still lay on his back, and the other students stood frozen, staring in shock at Gaspi. Gaspi slowly turned around, looking at each face until he found Emea’s. Gaspi smiled at her tentatively, hoping to get a response, but she had a look of such seriousness that his smile faltered and died. Without saying a word, Emea turned her back and walked away from the courtyard. The sound of the girl’s dormitory door closing had the effect of waking everyone from their shocked state. Gaspi heard it like a portent of doom, and the other students sprang into motion. Several of the girls hurried past Gaspi to the prostrate Everand, one of them shooting him a look of disgust as she passed. The others fearfully avoided looking him in the eyes.
Gaspi was still looking for a friendly face when a harsh voice sent a cold shiver down his spine. “Gaspi, stay right there!” Voltan said.
Gaspi turned around to find his intimidating mentor standing with folded arms at the edge of the courtyard. Gaspi had totally forgotten about Voltan, and with a nod and a gulp stood stock still, while the hawk-faced teacher walked over to Everand. He helped Everand to his feet, asking him a question Gaspi couldn’t quite hear, then with a sharp nod stalked back over to Gaspi. “Follow me,” he said in hard, flat tones. Gaspi picked up his things, and followed him away from the courtyard.
Voltan led Gaspi through the campus without saying a word, rudely ignoring the magicians they passed who called out a greeting. As Gaspi followed, a sense of dread grew within him. What had he done? Would he be punished? Expelled? That last thought turned his blood cold. Several minutes later, Voltan led an almost-frantic Gaspi into the tower. When Gaspi realised which plinth Voltan was leading him to, his worry ratcheted up another notch.
“Step on,” Voltan said brusquely. Gaspi had no choice but to obey, and almost as soon as his feet had landed Voltan spoke a command, and he was caught up in the vibrations of transportation. Gaspi was so worried that he barely paused to take notice of the uncomfortable experience, and a moment later he was standing in Hephistole’s study. The Chancellor stood waiting for them, and although he wasn’t showing the same kind of sternness as Voltan, Gaspi couldn’t see any of his usual sparkle. He indicated Gaspi should take a seat, and though he also took a chair, Voltan remained standing.
“What’s this all about, Voltan?” Hephistole asked, obviously not yet fully familiar with the situation.
Voltan told of Gaspi’s confrontation with Everand without embellishment, then turned to Gaspi. “There’s just no excuse for that kind of attack on a classmate,” Voltan said, anger still flashing in his dark eyes. “I can’t allow this to go unpunished.”
Gaspi’s nervousness diminished slightly in the wake of a resurgence of his own anger. “It’s not fair!” he said. “Everand’s been having a go at me for months.”
“Watch your tone, Gaspi,” Voltan said, and Gaspi bit back a retort that he knew would land him in even deeper trouble.
“Now, hold on a minute, Voltan,” Hephistole said reasonably. “I agree that Gaspi has gone overboard, but let’s hear him out.” He turned to Gaspi, the hint of a kindly smile on his well-lined face. “What’s behind all this?” he asked. “This is your chance to tell us your side of the story.”
Gaspi let it all out in a flurry of angry words. “He’s picked on me from day one. He excludes me, he encourages the other students to make fun of me. He calls me names. He says I am not a Nature Mage, and calls me hedge wizard instead.” As Gaspi talked his words began to sound increasingly pathetic in his own ears. “He attacked me today, not the other way round. He threw a strike at me when the class was over and I was walking away. I just didn’t feel like putting up with it anymore.” Gaspi felt a bit better about that last reason.
Hephistole looked at Voltan. “Have you observed any of this, Voltan?” he asked.
“In part, yes. I have noticed some friction and, yes, Everand is often rude to Gaspi in class. It’s also true that Everand was the first to attack today. But that’s still no excuse,” he said, turning back to Gaspi. “You are by far the more powerful Mage, and you are responsible for using that power carefully.” The warrior Mage still looked angry, but the hard line of his jaw had relaxed a little.
“You are right in saying that it is not an excuse Voltan, but it
is
a reason,” Hephistole said calmly. “Gaspi,” he said, addressing the young Mage again. “I remember from hearing your story the first time that your magic first erupted when defending your guardian against someone in your village. Is that right?”
“Yes sir,” Gaspi said. “It was the Brock and Jakko; the blacksmith and his son.”
“And would you say that they were picking on you?”
Gaspi paused for a long moment before answering. “Yes. Brock was picking on Jonn, and Jakko was always bullying me.”
“I see,” Hephistole said. “It seems you have a history of being mistreated, and it’s not a surprise that you are sensitive about it. It also seems that our Everand has been carrying on that grand tradition.” Gaspi, feeling embarrassed by the feebleness of his excuses, merely shrugged. “Well, Gaspi,” Hephistole continued, “I want you to know I can imagine something of how this might make you feel. We are vulnerable in some ways, and there are those who would exploit our weak spots. But Voltan is right. The past haunts all of us, but you must put it aside. You have inherited a mighty gift, and it cannot be used without maturity. The other students just don’t have the same kind of firepower...something Everand learned the hard way today.” Hephistole leaned forward, holding Gaspi’s attention with his piercing green eyes. “Gaspi,” he said gravely, “like it or not, with power comes responsibility. Do you understand?” He held Gaspi’s gaze, giving his words time to sink in.
Gaspi was unable to avoid the truth of his words. “Yes sir,” he said, after a pause. Somehow the usual informality seemed inappropriate, and he gave the Chancellor his proper honorific title.
“Good,” Hephistole said, leaning back in his chair. “Then try and understand this, also. There may come a day when you have to fight side by side with Everand, or with any of the other students. Not everyone can be friends, but I’m asking you to be the peacemaker here. Will you do what you can to put this animosity aside?”
Gaspi felt that Hephistole was trying to communicate something to him, but wasn’t sure exactly what it was. He was so captured by the older man’s sincerity that he found it much easier to agree than he would have believed possible half an hour previously.
“I’ll try,” he said, and found that he meant it. His own power had shocked him today, and however much he wanted everyone to see Everand for the idiot he was, he didn’t actually want to hurt him. He even started to feel a little ashamed.
“Good man,” Hephistole said, radiating approval. “Voltan I agree that Gaspi must be punished for this, but let’s not make it too arduous. Repairing the containment cages?”
“That sounds fair,” Voltan responded. He looked at Gaspi again, and Gaspi was relieved to see his mentor’s face showing only its usual sternness. “Cancel whatever you had planned this afternoon. I’ll meet you in the main classroom in an hour. Now, go and have your lunch.”
Chapter 27
Gaspi left the room in thoughtful silence. Walking back to the refectory, he ran the events of the morning through his head. The most important thing was making things right with Emea. He knew she was upset with him, but not knowing exactly how upset gave him an uncomfortable, squirming sensation in his stomach. That feeling injected a sense of urgency into his thoughts, and he broke into a jog. She would probably be in the refectory with Lydia, maybe nearing the end of their lunch, and if he rushed he just might catch her.
When Gaspi reached the refectory he wrenched open the doors, looking round for Emea. He heard her tinkling laugh and, turning to see where she was, found her sitting with Everand and his usual crowd of followers. Gaspi’s insides turned to ice, all of his good intentions to make peace with Everand blown out of his mind by an unstoppable surge of jealousy. Lydia spotted him, and nudged Emea. When she saw him Emea flushed, looking sheepish for a moment, but then some kind of resolve seemed to kick in and she tilted her chin up in defiance, a flush still showing on her pale cheeks. Gaspi couldn’t think of anything except getting away from the scene in front of him, and without saying a word he turned and fled the room. The last thing he heard as the doors shut behind him was another wave of laughter erupting from Everand’s table. Gaspi felt tears start in his eyes. Not wanting anyone to see him, Gaspi broke into a run, angrily wiping away the tears that wouldn’t stop pouring down his face. He didn’t know where he was going until he found himself in his meditation garden. Relieved to find it empty, Gaspi walked numbly to the spot he always meditated in, and sank to the ground. He stared into space for a long moment, haunted by the image of Emea sitting with Everand, laughing at his jokes; and before he knew what was happening, he broke into uncontrollable sobbing.