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Dragon Masters Ch. 4

Magi-ball Practice

By Daniel GilliamPublished about a year ago Updated 11 months ago 29 min read
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Dragon Masters Ch. 4
Photo by Zane Lee on Unsplash

A few days after the dragon that attacked me in that alley way, and when Gwen took me to see her grandfather, the headmaster of Noreen University, I decided I’ve had enough adjusting time to my new situation. You’d think after suddenly being magically transformed and bonded at a spiritual level to a common lizard, a person would have a bit of trouble accepting their new reality, but apparently not.

Surprisingly enough, having the dragon around feels natural, like he’s been around for years. In my dorm, the dragon leaves my body and takes dominion over anything he declares his bed. Most of the time he just watches me while I do my homework, but I’m constantly worried that I should be feeding him something. He hasn’t tried to steal my food, and he never acts hungry; not like the yellow dragon that tried to rob me before.

I’ve come to the hypothesis that a bonded dragon doesn’t need to eat as he might be living off the nutrients I’ve been eating while he’s dematerilized in my body, but they can eat as I have given him scraps of meat.

From what I’ve noticed, when I’m out and about in public or in class around other people, the dragon seems to prefer stay in me… or in the tattoos… I don’t really know where the dragon hides when he isn’t physical, but for the time being, I’m going to say he lives in my tattoos to avoid any scandalous misunderstandings. Anyway, the dragon acts antisocial and remains out of sight, but when I’m alone, he materializes on his own and does whatever his heart desires.

last time I talked to Gwen, she told me to consider giving the dragon a name, something to distinguish it from the rest of the scaly rats outside. I still find it weird that a non-domesticated beast was just hanging out in my dorm room, if not in my skin, and not only that, but I can now pull doors off their hinges without trying.

That reminds me, I need to talk to the dorm board about getting my bathroom door fixed.

Anyway, as I sat at my desk, working on my math homework, the dragon rolled on the ground, attacking my old shoe that didn’t fit anymore. He chewed on the fabric and clawed at the rubber sole. It was like watching a cat, only the cat, the dragon, was almost as small as the shoe.

I looked down at the dragon and popped the question, “Do you already have a name?”

The dragon stopped rolling for a moment, looked up at me, then continued with his business. I guess that was a no.

I watched him play as possible dragon names ran through my head, but I was never really good at this kind of thing. A knocking came from the door and immediately the dragon dropped the shoe, looked at the door and disappeared into my tattoos. I sighed and stood from my desk. Another knocking came from the door, “Coming.” I said as I crossed the room.

I passed a basket of clothes that is currently occupying the spot where my dresser used to be. The dresser, and nearly four hundred delcs were gone the same day I broke the stupid thing, and I can garuntee more will be lost when they find out about the bathroom door. I really needed to talk to Thomas before I caused more damage that’ll cost me.

I opened the door and speak of the devil, Thomas loomed over me in the door way. I looked up at him and smiled, “Hey Thomas, I was just thinking about you.”

That was a strange opening line, and by the look on his face, he thought so too.

“Vik, we need to talk.” He pushed his way inside and shut the door behind him. He looked around briefly and quickly noticed the disembodied door leaning against a wall, and the cracked ceiling overhead, “I figured something was up.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, sheepishly.

He turned on me and pointed at me, “Firstly, you grew nearly five inches overnight, you have tattoos with no distinct control matrices, and you gained mucsle mass that not even performance enhancing drugs could achieve in such a short amount of time. So, unless you have a smaller twin brother, you got your hands on some pretty impressive magic.”

“Wow, you’re good.” I said, actually impressed.

“No, I’m not. You’re just obscenely obvious.”

Less impressed. I feel more embarrassed now, “Well, I wasn’t exactly trying to hide it. It’s not like I could.” I lifted my hand to emphasize my point. The black lines on my hand ended at my finger nails, the finger nails were black as well. “So, why the sudden visit?” I asked.

He folded his giant arms, golden tattoos were sprawled all over his muscles, “To be frank, I’m concerned. From what I can tell, you have strength enhancing magic, and from experience, magic that enhances strength is extremely dangerous in an unprepared body. Last week, and I mean no offense by this, you had anything else but a prepared body.”

Ouch, I knew I was a small guy, but I could have still pulled my own weight when I needed to. “There’s a perfectly good explanation for this, and even the headmaster said I should talk you. I was going to come find you…”

“Wait, the headmaster?” He interrupted me.

I stuttered, “Y-yeah, Professor Noreen.”

“That stupid old man…” Thomas put his face in his hand and sighed heavily, “He told me about you, without telling me it was you. So, let’s see it.”

“See what?”

“Your dragon. Come on dragon master, I ain’t got all day.” He stood there, expectantly.

Well, if the professor recomened him and even informed him of me, then I guess there was no harm letting him in. I focused and call the dragon to come out. I felt the cold chill run through my body then a weight settled on my shoulder. The dragon perched itself on me, not on the ground were I had intended on him materializing. The dragon bowed its head at Thomas and shied away. Was it intimidated by him, I know I was, but could a dragon feel intimidated?

“Hm. I imagined it would be bigger.” He said, examining the beast.

“He changes sizes everytime he materializes, but he’s never much bigger than this.”

“Have you tried to control his size when you call him? The old man said Randolph could make his dragon any size he wanted.”

That would have been a nice piece of information to tell me. “No, I haven’t. If Professor Noreen would explain a bit more, I might know what to try.”

Thomas chuckled, “Yeah, he’s not the best with giving information.”

“So, will you…” I began to ask.

“I’m going to train you to use your magic.”

That was easy, “Really?”

“Really. But I’m not going to do it for free.” He said, a grin spreading across his face.

I didn’t like the way he was looking at me.

————

Next thing I knew, I was in the school’s gym, bench pressing 350 pounds. I’ve never been in the gym in all three years I’ve been at school, and I wanted nothing more than to never come back. I was 35 reps in and my arms started burning, “Come on, Vik. Push to fifty.” Thomas encouraged.

Thomas spotted me, but as I broke 40, he showed no signs of aiding me in my struggles. I thought he was crazy, but the growing strain in my arms kept me from speaking my mind.

48

“Push, Vik! Push!” Thomas said.

49

“One more!”

50. I lowered the bar back on the stand with a solid clank. My arms fell to my chest as I panted. I looked up at an impressed giant, “What… is the point… of this?” I asked.

He pulled a small note pad from his back pocket and scribbled something down, “I’m assessing the possible potential of your abilities. You didn’t start to struggle until around thirty reps, so I’m assuming your max weight is somewhere in the neighbor hood of five hundred. I’m only guessing though. The equipment here doesn’t support more than 350 pounds.”

“And you thought that was a good starting point?”

“Did you or did you not rip a door off out off a wall on accident?” He asked.

That was a fair point, but I still thought he was crazy. I sat up and caught my breath, already the soreness in my arms began to fade. I was taught in school that when you work out, you are tearing muscle fibers so that they can heal and grow stronger in the process. During the healing process is when you feel sore in that muscle group. I guess, since I’m able to heal almost instantly from wounds and the like thanks to my bond with the dragon, I get to skip the near four day miserable period. Being a dragon master has it’s perks.

I rolled my arms to shake off some stiffness and felt great. “How are you feeling?” Thomas asked.

“Pretty good. I think my healing ability helps skip the soreness you get after working out.” I explained. I didn’t think I needed to lecture a guy the size of a mountain about exercise.

Thomas grumbled something about unfairness and wrote something down on his note pad. “I’m still getting used to the fact that your magic is constantly activated. If I did that, I’d be out within the hour, but your walking around with it all day. I’m curious to see if we can find your stamina limit.” I noticed him grining a bit.

I stood and looked up at the giant clock on the far wall. I looked up at Thomas and asked, “I thought you said you didn’t have all day?”

He nodded, “That’s right. I got practice later today, and you’re coming with me. If all goes well, you’re going to be joining the NU magi-ball team.”

He said all this back at the dorm as the return for him training me to use my powers. I told him he was crazy and that I was no athlete, but I suppose I just proved my self wrong. What kind of non-athletic person can bench press 350 pounds and get up with no more than a stiff shoulder?

“I like magi-ball as much as the next guy, I’ve even attended most of your games, but what makes you think I would be any good on the team? Not to mention I don’t have a handle on this magic thing.”

He stood there and pondered my question. He shrugged and grinned, “In my experience, on the job training is the best way to learn; besides, dragon masters are supposed to be super beings, right? How cool would it be to have the world’s only dragon master on our team? And, what else are you going to do in your free time?”

More and more I’m finding myself being called out. Well, I’ve never been someone to back away from new experiences, it might me fun.

“Alright, enough dilly dallying. Go on, get. I want a hundred squats at 400 pounds.”

“A hundred? Are you nuts?” This time I voiced my feelings on the matter, but none the less, I did as I was told.

————

Dragon healing or not, squats suck. Almost an hour after the fact, my legs still hurt and back was sore. Thomas made me lift impossible weights until my healing ability began to slow down. We went on for three hours of nonstop labor, and we only stopped because I dislocated a shoulder after trying to catch a falling weight rack after I threw down a full bar. I shouldn’t have tired to catch it with one arm; shoot, I shouldn’t have tried to catch it at all, but you fail and learn as they say.

After Thomas pushed my shoulder back into place, he called it quits and we made our way to the magi-ball arena. Apparently the team practiced and trained in the arena to minimize risk. Risk to what? Thomas didn’t say.

The magi-ball arena was as impressive as always. The feild itself was nearly half a mile in diameter in a perfect circle, and inside was a thriving forest. There was even a small pond in the north east section of the feild.

However, we weren’t on the feild, we were in a locker room, waiting. The NU magi-ball team only had seven players, the bare minimum to qualify to play, and none of them were around. Only Thomas, the team captain, was ready to start practice and the rest of his team were no where to be found. The cleaner smelling locker room was awkwardly quiet as the clock on my scribe passed five.

“Thomas, are you sure you have the right day?”

He looked up at me, a little annoyed, “I’m sure. We have practice at five on Monday, wednesday, and fridays. Scheduled games excluded. They should be here soon.”

I was feeling hungry again. I’ve been getting hungry a lot more often lately. I hoped Thomas couldn’t hear my stomach rumbling.

After a few more minutes of awkward silence, I decided to bring us to productive topic, at least to me it was productive, “So, hey. Your team has always played with seven players, why not recruit more?”

Thomas let out a brief scoff, “That’s because no one else lasts. We used to hold try outs all the time, but they always quit before their first game.”

“Not gonna lie, bud, that’s a pretty big red flag?” I said.

He waved a hand at me, “Nah. It’s not their fault, the team is just… unique.”

“Unique?”

The door busted open and in came three guys, all of which stopped their talking and laughing when they saw Thomas glaring at them from the bench.

I recognized the three athletes immediately, Jacob Heinz, the Pyro elemental, Louis Barscotti, the electrical elemental and Neigel Fontz, another physical enhancement type like Thomas. These guys were serious powerhouses in the college leauge. To give a scale, if a semi-truck and lets say Neigel were playing a game of chicken, the truck would either forfeit or get flipped over, and the tabloids say he would be crazy enough to play at all.

Neigel, standing at a solid 6 feet with shaggy blonde hair, scratched his stubble on his chin, “Hey, Tom. Whatcha up to?”

Thomas stood, his already imposing figure enhanced by his unhappy disposition, “Oh, you know, waiting for my team to show up for practice. What about you guys?”

Normally, these guys would be oozing confidence like they do on during a magi-ball match, but now they looked like whipped puppies. Thomas was definitely a scary guy when he wanted to be. The pyro, Jacob, composed himself the quickest and stepped up to the behemoth, “Take it easy, man. We’re only a few minutes late and we’re all here. Tess and Sam are getting ready in the girls locker room.”

I interjected, “Wait, if this is everyone, what happened to Peter Nicks?”

Peter Nicks was the last guy on the team, a speedster that set the college league record for fastest mile ran. I think the ran the mile in 7.3 seconds, they say he could be the youngest speedster to break the sound barrier.

Thomas turned his head to me and explained nonchalantly, “He broke his leg in four different places when he tried to set a new record. He won’t be able to play until next season.”

That’s gotta hurt. I guess speedsters can’t heal as fast as they run. While I was nursing empathy pains in my leg, the three guys finally noticed me. Jacob was first to ask, “Who’s stripes over here?”

He didn’t sound all to welcoming, but Thomas came to my rescue, “This is Vik, and I’m thinking about putting him in Pete’s position.”

“He doesn’t look like a speedster.” Neigel said.

“I’m not, I’m a dr…”

Thomas cut me off, “He’s a physical enhancement type. He’s got some experimental tattoos that allow him increased physical ability and healing abilities.”

This, at least, was something I didn’t need explained to me; Thomas didn’t want the team to know I was a dragon master yet, I just didn’t know why. He was so excited about having the only dragon master on his team.

Jacob stepped up to me and I could tell he was trying to be intimidating. We were eye to eye in height and I just got the ego lift from moving 350 pounds of iron a while ago, so it didn’t work. I crossed my arms and stood my ground as he looked me up and down, “Can this guy hold his own? His tats don’t even look like they work.”

Thomas’ large hand appeared on Jacob’s shoulder and Jacob winced in pain. The tattooed circles on Thomas’ hand glowed with golden power as he squeezed, “You have no room to talk. I remember you not even being able to spark a match when you joined the team, let alone hold your own in a fight.”

Jacob’s knees began to buckle as he started to beg, “Okay, okay. I give.”

Thomas let go of his shoulder and Jacob regained his composure. He stepped away and nursed his aching shoulder. Thomas turned to look at the three men, “I won’t tolerate hazing. No body hazed you, and I would rather disband this team than let you get away with it. We’re better than that and besides, we need a minimum 7 players to qualify. With Peter gone, Vik is our only option. You guys scared off the other guys that tried out.”

So that’s the full picture; if I wanted to learn how to control my dragon magic from Thomas, I had to fill in for the injured speedster so that NU wouldn’t lose their seat in the college magi-ball league. See, I’m not entirely stupid.

Without another objection from the guys, Thomas sighed, “Just get dressed. We’ll be doing some basic drills to give Vik a crash corse in our tactics.”

The three men gave their affirmations and walked passed us to their lockers. Thomas motioned for me to follow him out as we were already wearing the team’s practice uniforms. The uniforms were a solid black leotard with black sweatpants. I was thankful for the pants, I didn’t think I could handle just wearing the leotard like a goth ballerina.

My sneakers weren’t exactly made for athletes, but they would have to do for now as they were the only pair of shoes I own that fit. I really hope my wallet wouldn’t suffer too much from the cost of shoes.

Thomas guided me down the hallway to the feild. He explained as best as he could about the positions of each player and the responsibilities of each. He tried not to go into too much detail to keep from confusing me, and I appreciated it, but that didn’t stop him from over explaining some things. I could tell he was passionate about the game, I still just didn’t understand why they couldn’t keep new players.

“Thomas, wait up!” Said a voice from behind us, footsteps following.

Tess Christopher, a very large and rugged woman, came running up. Scars and tattoos covered her exposed skin in her leotard. I tried not to look at her well endowed chest, but I was a guy. Sue me. She was taller than I was, and significantly more muscular, but she was still an attractive woman. The school’s newspaper has dubbed her the Giantess of NU.

She scratched at a bandage on her nose as she slowed her jog to a run. She cleared her throat and was about to say what she wanted to say, but she noticed I was there, “Hey, Thomas. Who’s this?”

When I say she noticed I was there, I mean she came running up looking straight at me, then only after she caught up to us, she realized I existed. Was Thomas that big of a figure to make others disappear into the background, or was I just that insignificant?

Thomas greeted her back in kind and told her who I was. He gave her a similar speech to the one he gave the male members of the team. She looked down at me, a familiar experience from women from my time as a short man, and smiled with her hand out for a shake, “Tess Christopher. Nice to meet you, Newbie.”

I shook her hand, “Thanks. You too.”

Her hand was ice cold. I knew she was a cryo elemental magic user, but I didn’t expect her skin to nearly give me frost bite. She noticed my discomfort and let go of my hand. Smiling sheepishly, she apologized, “Sorry about that. My tattoos were prototypes and had to be adjusted over time. I don’t have complete control of my magic quite yet, but I’m working on it.”

“No problem.” I said with a smile. I rubbed my hands together, trying to get some warmth back into my fingers. I wondered how her magic worked; did it push cold, or pull heat?

“You’ve got a strong grip, Vik. Are you pushing magic?” She asked.

I looked down at my marked hand, I assumed ‘pushing magic’ meant using magic, “I‘m trying not to use any strength. I don’t even think my magic has an off button. Thomas’ going to help me get a grip so I don’t hurt anyone.”

She tilted her head at me, “Sweetheart, there is no off for magic. Just control.”

I looked up at her, confused, “What? I thought you turned your magic off and on.”

She put her hand on my shoulder, “Nope. Not entirely. We push power into our tats and then the magic happens, but magic is constantly flowing through us. We have to have control over that magical power as to keep from burning ourselves out. You’re constantly using the muscles in your body, but you don’t get tired just by standing still do you? But it doesn’t hurt to have tattoos that are made to work independently from the users will.”

I didn’t get all that. But I guess it’s just like any other physical activity, you don’t get tired until you push yourself. So, I just need to think of my magic as an extension of my body, instead of like a piece of equipment. That should make it a little easier to understand. Maybe.

After a few moments of thinking about it, I looked up at Tess, “Thanks. I think I understand.”

She smiled and put her arm down, “No problem. I’m always happy to help.”

“Hey, I’m supposed to be training him.” Thomas whined.

Tess punched him in the arm, “Don’t worry. I’m not going to steal your little buddy. I’m just helping out.”

“Wait, you said there are tattoos that work independently from the user? What kind of tattoos are those?” I asked.

A new voice piped up, “Speedster tattoos don’t use intuitive control like yours. We have to use external controls to use our magic effectively.”

A small woman appeared from behind Tess; nearly made me jump. I didn’t see her walk up with Tess or even show up after. Where had she come from?

When I got a good look at her, the world slowed to an agonizing crawl. Slow music played through my head as she looked up at me. Her golden hazel eyes shined brighter than the sun. Her soft brown hair was cut into a messy bob, framing her angled face. She wasn’t the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen, but she had no trouble leaving me breathless. It’s not like this was the first time I’ve seen her; she’s famous on campus for being on record the shortest magi-ball player, but that hasn’t stopped her from dominating on the field. This woman has robbed entire games from her opponents without them ever knowing what hit them.

I must have paused too long after her explanation, because she narrowed her eyes at me and spoke with a country style accent, “Something wrong?”

I coughed and pulled my head out of the clouds, “No, ma’am. Nothing wrong, sorry.”

She cracked a smile and began to laugh, “I’m only messing with you, man. Chill out.” Her accent reminded me of my home village outside the valley.

“What did you want to talk about, Tess?” Thomas said, pushing the conversation back on the road.

I nearly forgot she came up to talk to Thomas not about me in the first place. I’m not narcissistic, just aware.

Tess shook her head, “Nothing now. I was just gonna ask what you were going to do about Peter’s absence from the team, but you already took care of that.”

The small woman, Samantha Wessex, asked her own question, “Is he going to be scouting with me?”

“That’s the idea. It’s not final, of course. We still need to see his effectiveness in simulations. If he isn’t suited for scout work, I’ll have him take position on offense with me and have Neigel run with you.” Thomas said.

“I’m glad you’re not flying by the seat of your pants on this, Tom.” Tess said.

Thomas crossed his arms again and huffed, “Who do you take me for?”

“Take it easy, big guy.” Samantha patted his large bicep, which was strange to watch ‘cause his bicep was bigger than her head, “Let’s get on the field. The new guy’s gonna get his head knocked off at the next game at this rate.”

The image of a large tree branch being used to pop my head off my shoulders was a very disturbing image, and a very real possibility. Magi-ball players couldn’t bring physical weapons into the game, but no rules stopped them from using what they find in the field. I thought about what would happen if something like that actually happened. Would my healing magic regrow my head, or would that be the end of me? What would happen if I lost a limb? Was my magic strong enough to regrow missing body parts or did it only heal wounds that would heal on their own in time? I think it would be for the best to not to put those scenarios to the test.

I started to follow the women down the hallway thinking that was the right move; turns out, it wasn't. Thomas grabbed me by the arm and whispered, "Hey, I don't want the team to find out you're a dragon master, at least not yet. Just in case they ask, you spent two whole years training to get those experimental tattoos, got it?"

"You have to train before you get magic tats?" I asked.

He sighed, "I'm glad I warned you... Yes, you do. Unlike you, if someone were to get tattoos their bodies weren't prepared for ahead of time, you can get seriously injured, or worse. Tattoos don't change a persons body so drastically like your dragon did yours."

That makes sense. I let the new information sink in, "Okay, thanks Tom."

"Call me Thomas." He said, quite frankly, "I don't like being called 'Tom'. I wish they'd all stop too, so don't take that the wrong way."

"Sorry, I'll be good." I did not want to piss off a guy that could throw me through a wall.

He let me go and started walking down the hall behind the women, "Don't worry about it. Lets go, time to work."

----

This freaking sucks. I don't know if you've been slow roasted by a pyro mage trying to prove something, cause it sucks, big time.

Jacob's fists were coated in blazing blue flames as he held them to his face in a boxers ready stance, but it was all blurry. I had to take my glasses off to keep from getting broken. I'd rather buy three new pairs of shoes I wouldn't wear before risking broken glasses.

I picked my sorry and sore but off the ground as Thomas yelled from the tree line, "Come on, Vik! Get up and get a hit in!"

I hadn't landed a single punch on the overly cocky hot-head, and it was starting to get on my nerves. He's either jabbed me in the chin, knocking me to the ground, or he's used my momentum against me in a charge and threw me over his shoulder onto my back. He grinned, the light of his fire making his white teeth blue. That in itself made me furious and getting a single hit in would make me feel worlds better.

Blisters sizzled and scabbed over in seconds on my tender skin. I thanked the moons above that my dragon gave me a healing ability or else these wounds would take weeks to treat.

I tried to copy his stance, keeping my fists close to my face to protect my head. Fuzzy memories raced through my mind about previous magi-ball matches. I've seen so many fights between mages that I should be able to analyze enough to imitate some moves. At least you'd think I'd be able to, but no, I'm getting my butt handed to me on a silver platter.

With no plan or strategy, I dashed forward. Jacob danced on his feet, his eyes jumping all over the place. How could he focus with his gaze bouncing around like that.

In a split second, Jacob jabbed out his fiery fist on a direct course for my face. I learned enough not to just fall right into it, so I dipped to the right and threw a punch at his side. I wanted to say I made contact, but in a flash, Jacob's burning hand grabbed onto my wrist and pushed my fist into the ground. To my surprise, I rolled over my hand and bounced back onto my feet. I spun to face Jacob just in time to take a flaming fist to the stomach.

Thanks to my dragon, his punch itself didn't really hurt all that much. What did hurt was the impact of his fire and burning sensation. His fighting style had nothing to do with physical strength, he just kept pushing me around using my own momentum, but at the same time, he used his explosive fire to inflict damage. Any one else would have been knocked out from the extensive pain and heat, but I just kept healing all the damage.

Jacob looked sadistic. His smile only grew the more often I got up and rushed into an attack. And I must have looked like a masochist to him, constantly coming back for more punishment. I really hoped this guy wasn't as unhinged in the outside world as he was now.

I dodged a jab to my face and backed up to catch my breath. I put up my hands to guard my face just incase he tried for a finishing blow. I tried copying him again, watching his entire body like he did mine before I made a move. I could see his feet move as he shifted his weight back and forth, he looked stiff, but all his movements were very fluid. Now, I can see him and I can see his movements, I just didn't know what I was looking for and how to react if I notice something.

"Gonna just stand there?" Jacob taunted.

No way I would fall for something like that, he just wants to put me on my butt again. Strangely, we both started circling each other, step by painfully slow step. Why were we doing this? Neither one of use instigated it, but we both moved in unison. That is, until Jacob suddenly dashed forward and wound up his fist for another strike. I noticed his weight shifted to his right foot just before starting his charge. In the moment he made it half way to me, I let instincts take over as I stood my ground. I let him take his swing at me until he was fully committed; I then swung my fist in a desperate attempt to inflict some damage and for the first time in what felt like an hour, I made contact.

To be fair, I made contact to his left arm that he brought up to guard his body, and he also made contact with my jaw. The heat from his fist exploded in my face and again knocked me to the ground, but not before I heard a cry in pain. It might have been my own, but something told me it was my opponent. As I hit the ground, my ears ringing, I heard a small whistle in the distance.

Jacob's blue flames extinguished and he walked away holding his arm. He left in quite a hurry in my opinion.

"Had enough?" I said, but I'm sure I slurred through my pathetic mocking. Though, any pain in my jaw was starting to fade as were any other injuries I had.

Thomas came up to me and helped me to my feet, "I got to say, not many people can take a beating like you."

"Gee, thanks." I got up and dusted off my scorched uniform. I decided the right thing to do right now is complain, "He beat me senseless for five minutes and I couldn't get a single hit on him."

"He's a elemental type, remember? He has to be good with hand to hand combat. Physical enhancement types like us have it the hardest, since we’re the most common, everyone is fully prepared to deal with us; that’s why most physicals are defense or support.”

I looked up at him and asked, “Then why are you planning on putting me in front as a scout?”

He smiled as he held up his watch as to check the time, “How long do you think you were fighting for?”

“I don’t know, five minutes?” I shrugged.

“Twenty-seven minutes. You managed to stay on your feet against an elemental fighter for twenty-seven minutes. Not many physicals can keep up that long.” He said with a wide grin.

From previous games I’ve seen, physical enhancement type fighters like Thomas usually are in the back. They can take hits and deal heavy damage, but they do typically remain on defense, “Why is that?”

Thomas flexed his muscles, showing off the his magically inscribed tattoos, “Different kinds of magic require different amounts of stamina. Using magic is like using a muscle and the less stamina you have, the quicker your body will wear out. The strain of channeling magic through your body, through your tattoos and into physical application, the body builds lactic acid as not to allow us to harm ourselves. However with you, I’m willing to bet that the fact that your body heals at supernatural speeds, you can keep up with the best of ‘em.”

“That’s a pretty unfounded bet.” I admonished.

He shrugged, “Eh, It’s a hunch. Besides, now we see how you handle running away.”

“Running away?” I asked.

“Running away.” He confirmed, “Scouts may be combatants, but their number one goal is to always be on the move and relay information. You do not stop, and you keep on running.”

SeriesYoung AdultSci FiHumorFantasy
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About the Creator

Daniel Gilliam

I don't care about politics, making statements or changing minds. All I want is to entertain people with the kind of stories that I would enjoy reading. I hope to create and to only create for the sake of creating.

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