He sighed as he pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes and then raked his fingers through his hands. For several long minutes, he stared at his son from behind his study desk.
The boy, dressed in bright colors, flowing fabrics, and a delicate sword dangling from his left hip. He shifted from one foot to the other. He grinned broadly as he toyed, absently, with the pommel of his sword.
“What am I to do with you?” the man grumbled as he placed his palms flat on the desk.
Absently, he tilted his head and regarded his father as the amusement swept in to join his delight. “Send me to Bethsaille, sir. Allow me to bring honor to this family.”
The man’s brow furrowed deeply as he pushed himself to his feet. “Why Bethsaille?”
He gave a noncommittal gesture. “And why not? It will get me out of the house and take the attention from the family.”
His father moved around to stand before the boy. Large, strong hands fell on slender shoulders. “That’s not a good enough reason.”
The boy stood still and held the man’s gaze. “Because I’m good, sir. But I want to be better. I want to be the most powerful warmage Terra has known since Mistress Shilaley Lightwing.”
A slow sigh escaped from the man. His hand moved to the boy’s head. “If that is truly whata you desire the I will see to the arrangements. You will be a member of Bethsaille at the start of the next semester.” He stepped back, turned on his heels, and left thee room.
For several long minutes, the boy stood staring after the older man. At last, a sound of delight sliipped from his lips and he sprinted off down the corridors to his room.
As he sat in an oversized chair pouring over the pages of his latest acquizition, a knock sounded. He noted his place, turned the book onto the arm and moved to answer the door.
The boy found himself tumbling head over heels backward and slammed into the foot of his bed. He scrambled to his feet and jerked his sword from its sheath. With several gestures and a word, a translucent rainbow shield rose from the floor to surround him.
“Impressive,” his attacker muttered and fliked his wrist. Dozens of tiny blue spheres flew through the air and slammed into the boy from every direction. “But, you can do better.”
With another gesture and word, he launched his own berrage of colorful missles flew out to slam into the bigger man, rocking him back on his heels.
“Better,” he remarked. He stumbled back and brought up his blade as the boy followed his magical attack with a sword strike. “Impressive,” he rebutted and flung his fingers out wide.
A cry of dismay escaped the boy as he landed on his bed, bounced off, and hit the floor. His breath exploded from his lungs as he landed. Dark sparkles dance in front of his eyes as he struggled to retain his grasp on consciousness.
His master stood over the boy and nodded. “Not bad. We have a great deal more work to do, if you plan to enter Bethsaille for the next semester.” He turned and walked away. The door closed behind him with a soft click.
He laid there until the sky darkened. At last, he clambered to his feet and headed to the dining hall for the evening meal.
The World of Terra 