When Sylmira stepped inside the barrier and saw the aftermath, her eyes immediately landed on the boy who was half-buried in the ground. His body scorched, smoke rising faintly from his burned uniform.
Fire-marked stones surrounded him which shows the clear aftermath of multiple fireball impacts. Her eyes widened slightly, then she exhaled a long helpless sigh.
She recognized him instantly.
Of course it was him.
The troublesome and arrogant boy. Always picking fights to prove himself.
It wasn't hard to put the pieces together. Arty wouldn't have attacked unless she was provoked and she wouldn't have just opened the barrier. The girl didn't even know who he was. So when this boy lunged at her, which he clearly did, Arty must've reacted purely on instinct and attacked back.
Sylmira's gaze shifted quickly. Heat radiated from her right and she turned just in time to see Arty. Her aura was wild and unruly and now with five fully formed fireballs spinning above her head. She had conjured them in mere seconds, ready to launch them again.
The girl's no longer wearing her bracelets.
Sylmira's expression tightened. That much power surging around her meant Arty had unsealed her restraints and from the look in her eyes, she wasn't just fighting back. She was prepared to kill.
Honestly, Sylmira couldn't blame her.
If some unknown guy came flying at her like that, she would've done the same.
But this situation was already messy enough.
Sylmira sighed again. As Arty flung the fireballs, Sylmira calmly raised her hand. A translucent Magic barrier shimmered into life between the boy and the fire.
The fireballs collided with it and detonated. Flames and shockwaves pressing against the shield, then dispersing harmlessly into the air.
"Arty. It's alright now," Sylmira said gently while stepping forward.
Arty blinked in recognition, her eyes softening as she realized who it was. She quickly slipped the bracelets back on, her Magic dimming slightly.
"That blonde guy attacked me first," she said firmly.
"I know," Sylmira replied with a nod. "He's reckless. He thinks he's stronger than everyone else… which used to be true, in this academy. Until today."
Sylmira turned to the boy who was now glaring defiantly from inside the earth prison.
"Are you alright?" she asked.
He didn't answer. Just stared at Arty with hatred burning in his eyes.
Sylmira waved her hand and the jagged rocks crumbled away, freeing him. His legs shook slightly as he stood upright. Burn marks still visible across his arms and chest, his clothes ruined. Yet he didn't look away from Arty.
"Why did you take this girl as your apprentice, Archmage?" he asked bitterly. "You said you wouldn't take any."
Sylmira let out another sigh with a difficult expression. "This is different. I had to make an exception."
"So you're a hypocrite?" he spat.
She scoffed with a smirk. This boy didn't even know what he was talking about and she won't bother to give him the answer.
"Maybe I am," Sylmira said.
She didn't rise to the bait. She'd long grown used to his temper and lack of restraint. He always spoke without thinking when upset.
"Now leave. Go get yourself healed," she said calmly.
But he didn't move. Instead, he pointed at Arty, fury still in his voice. "Who is she? Why is she special?"
Arty narrowed her eyes. "Stop pointing at me, or I'll break that hand."
The boy flinched. He believed that she would just do that without hesitation.
Slowly, he lowered his hand.
"She's the sister of my friend," Sylmira added.
"Friend?" he echoed, stunned. From what he knew, Sylmira didn't have friends. Not truly. Except maybe King Roderic.
Which only confirmed what he was starting to realize and believe that this girl was important.
Sylmira tilted her head. "Go heal. Come back if you want to later."
The boy said nothing more. He turned, limping slightly as he walked toward the exit.
Arty's eyes followed him, her stance still tense and she was ready to act if he dared turn back. But he didn't, and just disappeared behind the barrier.
Sylmira then walked over to Arty, who had calmed down considerably. The fireballs were gone and her aura had returned to a more stable rhythm now that the bracelet was back on her wrist. Her breathing had steadied, but the annoyed scowl on her face hadn't faded.
"Who was that idiot?" Arty asked with a glare in the direction the boy had gone.
Sylmira glanced back once before replying. "His name is Renard Halworth. A prodigy from House Halworth which is one of the oldest noble families in the kingdom. He's talented, has the best facilities money can buy, and he's trained by experts since he could walk. He wants to be the best and for some reason, he thinks the fastest way is by becoming my apprentice. It also will make his reputation grow if he becomes my apprentice."
"Then why didn't you take him?" Arty asked, still frowning.
"I don't take apprentices. Never have. That's what I told him." Sylmira gave a small sigh. "But he didn't take it well. He's always been bitter about it. Every time he sees me, he's either sulking or trying to get my attention by starting duels or arguments."
"And now that he saw I'm being trained by you," Arty muttered, arms folded, "he gets angry and attacks me?"
Sylmira nodded with a tired expression. "Yes. He's just that kind of hot-blooded boy. Impulsive. Always chasing something to prove."
"I hate him already," Arty muttered. "I'm sure he's a bully around here too. Honestly, he's not even that strong."
Sylmira chuckled lightly. "When facing you? No one your age is strong enough."
Arty raised an eyebrow, then gave a casual shrug. "You might be right. Haha."
With the confrontation behind them, Sylmira gestured for her to return to the field. "Now let's continue. We still have much to refine."
Arty nodded and stepped forward, fire slowly sparking back to life in her palms.