Syryn had skipped the entire day of classes in lieu of much needed rest after his harrowing night with the professor. He was, however, present early for the evening training hour with the other mages.

“Sleeping beauty, you’re almost as late as the professor.” Magnus indicated to a fresh looking Artemus who was leisurely waltzing in 10 minutes late and clutching a thick sheaf of parchments.

The professor shone with the vitality of a moonflower that had been watered and loved. Watching the attractive man gracefully glide past him, it was by no effort on Syryn’s part that his mind replayed their very recent, very up close and personal interaction. It hadn’t embarrassed him back then but now that his life wasn’t in danger anymore and the adrenaline was no longer in his system, Syryn’s cheeks gained a dusting of rose.

“The heck are you blushing for?” Magnus leered at him. Of course he would noticed. Magnus was annoying like that.

“I’m not blushing. Its the allergies.” He refuted righteously.

“Riiiight,” The fire mage grinned.

Artemus carefully placed his parchments on the table and turned to his students. His eyes lingered on Magnus and Syryn who were on their best behaviour.

“I hope you’re all well rested,” Artemus’ elegant fingers worked to unfasten the twine that bound his papers. “We’ll begin with 30 laps around the Hall without break. If you cheat, I’ll know. Also, you’re not allowed to use magic.” He succinctly explained to the mages.

“Big bro, aren’t you pushing it a little too hard for first day of training?” Magnus’ pitch had skipped several octaves.

“Yes, and you have less than 2 months until the meet. Your point?” Artemus shot back as he made himself comfortable in a chair. “When the sand runs out, if you still haven’t run 30 laps, you’ll find yourself running 30 more.” And then the professor flipped a large hour glass that was already on the table. “Your time starts now.”

The frantic mages began a steady jog lead by Lensa and Corvus at the front. Drake fell into step with Magnus and Syryn while Unri ran alone. And right behind them all was the new addition to their team, Gema – a mousy little thing who seemed perpetually afraid of the world. Nobody would have believed that it was the same girl that kicked the asses of all the other mages with her earth magic.

“Syryn, I heard that you’re the new potion supplier.” Drake’s silver grey eyes regarded him curiously. Lillith’s younger brother did not share her special silvers but his eyes were just as pretty.

“Yes, and you must be the third prince, Drake Kinstrom” Syryn replied with bland politeness.

“Yep.”

The mages had concluded 10 laps when a thick blanket of supression settled on their shoulders like a weight had been introduced.

“Ugh!” Lensa wrinkled her nose at the feeling of Artemus’ anti mage field. It was still light enough that it did not pose any significant challenge to the runners. The field was pure magic supression and it’s effects on the physical body were indirect but similar to mental pressure.

At their 20th lap, Syryn’s lungs had begun burning. His legs had long turned into dead appendages that functioned solely because their owner refused to stop running.

“Syryn, you’re not looking too hot.” Magnus uselessly commented, amused and still not showing any signs of fatigue.

Syryn having no energy to spare for words resorted to glaring at the fire mage. Why the hell was Magnus so fit when all he did was laze around all day with Lucien? It wasn’t just him. Lensa, Corvus, Drake, and Unri all appeared to be producing energy for days of running. Syryn and Gema were the only two members running on fumes.

“I’m – I – fuck off” And it was a sad sound with no bite behind it. Syryn was woefully aware that his young body – without any previous consistent training, just couldn’t keep up with the energetic team mates who had been undergoing rigorous work out. Syryn wasn’t including Magnus in that category though because the shapeshifter had done nothing but eat and sleep.

“So much for the show yesterday. And here I thought we had two amazing additions to the team.” Corvus jogged backwards – facing his team mates who had been running behind him – and directed his light hearted words towards the two runners who looked ready to collapse.

“You shouldn’t tease Syryn, he’s Artemus’ favourite.” Magnus wagged a finger playfully.

“Oh?” Lensa turned around grinning. “Kid, what’s your secret? Your seniors have been trying to get his attention since he showed up at the gates of school.”

“Don’t raise your hopes up old hag, the professor doesn’t look like the type that dates older women!” Corvus bounced on his feet and jumped away from the splash of hot steam that hissed out of the air.

“I said no magic.” Artemus’ calm voice drifted over from where he was paging through some reports.

“Syryn, don’t you have some kind of potion to help with your stamina?” The third prince chimed in from behind them.

If Syryn did have one, it would have been illegal and probably dangerous to use. He breathed deeply and managed to speak without gasping, “no I don’t.”

“How old are you anyway? You look really young. Are you sure you’re up for a fight with the anti mages?” Drake continued to ask while casting another curious look at Syryn. The alchemist was aware of how pathetic he probably appeared to his team mates. He consoled himself with the knowledge that if it came down to a fight, his mana pool and control, not even mentioning the experience he had, would be leagues ahead of all of them, especially his smug fire mage roomate.

“This shrimp is just 12 years old. He’s also our secret weapon.” Magnus grandly announced – which Syryn knew was a purposeful jibe at his exhausted appearance – while pointing at the huffing and puffing child who stumbled and nearly face planted on the floor. The arm that reached out and caught Syryn by his shirt managed to get the boy back on his feet.

“Thank,” He gasped at the amused prince, unable to get the ‘s’ out.

“At least you both have perseverance in spades,” Drake chuckled.

“5 more laps to go newbies, so keep up.” Corvus loudly and gleefully declared. It made Syryn wonder why Magnus had even bothered to complain about 30 laps when he could run 50 without breaking a sweat. It probably had something to do with his lazy ass not wanting to make effort, Syryn concluded.

The entire time that Unri had stayed completely silent, he had also forged ahead of the others. The mage was done with his runs and sat in cold silence. Syryn was beginning to understand why Magnus had nothing to say about Unri.

After what had to be the second most tiring experience Syryn had had the misfortune of getting ground through since his rebirth, his 30 laps were done and with not a moment to spare. The sand had run out and so had Gema’s energy. The girl collapsed backwards onto the floor and heaved like a dying fish.

“While these two get some rest, the rest of you run 10 more laps.” Artemus informed the team. And without a word, he tripled the pressure on the mages.

“Uuuugh!” Lensa threw her head back and let out a noise of frustration before pushing her legs forward.

When the mages came to a stop next to their professor who was also apparently done with his paperwork, Artemus slipped the reports inside a thick envelope and set them aside.

“Syryn, Gema, rest time is up.”

Artemus then began part two of their training program for the day – sparring under the supressive effects of a heavy anti mage field.

Lensa was paired with Corvus, Unri with Syryn, Drake and Gema, and Magnus with Artemus.

“Syryn, Unri, get inside the circle. You’ll have 5 minutes to go all out.” Artemus stood with his arms crossed and indicated for the boys to begin. The idea was to see for himself how much magic output the mages were capable of under a strong field.

“I thought you said he was the teacher’s pet.” Lensa told the fire mage standing next to her.

“He is. That’s why Artemus paired him with Unri.”

Lensa questioned her team mate’s sanity. If Syryn was Artemus’ favourite, why did the professor push him into fire? Unri’s lightning attacks had caused her endless grief and she was of the opinion that no exhausted newbie should have the misfortune of facing him.

“Eos protect him.” She answered.

“Syryn? You should be praying for Unri.” The fire mage smirked with a sense of expectation hanging over his excited eyes.

Lensa questioned her team mate’s sanity again.

Syryn and Unri made eye contact across the floor from each other. Not knowing who made the first move, the mages met in a clash of ice and lightning.

The smell of ozone was the only warning Syryn was given before a fist crackling with electricity appeared in front of his face. The alchemist swiftly ducked and swung a leg across the floor to sweep Unri off his feet but the mage reacted just as fast and leaped away. It appeared that the lightning mage’s magical attacks were sluggish under the effects of the supression.

With a slash of Syryn’s arm, a mass of pointy ice needles flew in the air towards the lightning mage. Unri let out a burst of concentrated lightning explosions that disintegrated the needles. And when Syryn closed in right behind the needles, his opponent brought his hands together in a loud clap that released multiple spears of lightning crackling through the air towards Syryn.

Throwing his palm up, a thick shield of ice coalesced in front of the ice mage. It absorbed the attack while barely denting his shield.

“Shit, the squirt isn’t half bad at all.” Lensa had been expecting a one sided beat down but was pleasantly surprised.

Magnus himself was in awe of Syryn’s control. This was the fire mage’s first time witnessing Syryn use his elemental magic. “I can feel the supression in the air but those two are fighting like there isn’t.”

“Not really,” Drake cut in. “We’ve seen what Unri is capable of. This isn’t even half his maximum power output. Artemus’ field is almost as disgusting as Rowan’s.”

“Kind of makes you want to see what Syryn is also fully capable of, don’t you think?” Corvus smiled with a single finger stroking his chin. “We’ve reaped a good junior.”

The lightning mage looked tired from the effort of fighting under such heavy supression. Dredging up mana had become an onerous task. He let out a breath and slashed forward with a palm bearing hot lightning.

Syryn faked a feint and as expected, Unri came for the attack. The alchemist flung himself to the ground and grappled the lightning mage in a move that had Syryn throwing Unri into the air. When the lightning mage fell back down, Syryn willed a patch of stalagmites to bloom outwards, ready to catch the falling mage in their spiky cold clutches.

With the reaction speed of a falling cat, Unri cupped his hands and released a ball of lightning that was unlike his other creations. The brightness of the lightning ball hurt to look at. With a loud shattering sound, Syryn’s stalagmites were destroyed.

“It’s a bit satisfying to see Unri on the defensive side for once.” Corvus commented. “He isn’t relying much on his magic though.”

Syryn was aware that Unri was beginning to gather lightning around himself, a coat of sharp electricity that would hurt any attacker stupid enough to get close to the caster.

The lightning mage was finally starting to get used to the supression. He was easily reaching for more and more of his mana. But then Syryn was also done playing.

With a single movement of Syryn’s arm, Unri was buried in a coffin of thick ice.

A giant ball of pure ice had suddenly confronted the stunned spectators. It spoke volumes about Syryn’s ability.

“That.. Why didn’t he just do that from the start?” Drake blinked at the unmoving figure in the ice. Syryn was able to do this much under a supression and it was an unpleasant shock for the others. The shrimp that had been lagging behind them, gasping for air and looking pathetic – was it still that same mage? They asked themselves.

“Who knows..” Magnus replied. His friend kept surprising him again and again. The fire mage had a feeling that Syryn hadn’t even revealed half the cards in his hands yet.

“Well, I guess we know now why he’s the teacher’s pet.” Lensa blew out a puff of air and readied herself for an underwhelming fight. A bud of hope was growing in her chest. Maybe King Hill won’t get humiliated so bad this year, maybe Syryn can beat Rowan – and that’s where she ended her wild train of thoughts. Hope was a double edged weapon after all.

“Release Unri.” Artemus raised his brows at Syryn. The lightning mage had been inside the ice for over a minute.

“I can’t,” Syryn sheepishly replied. “Once the ice is out, I can’t melt it.”

Artemus sighed and pulled back his supression. “Lensa, melt the ice.”