***
"So, Sammy!"
Mason smacks the back of the much weaker Sam with vigor.
SWAKK
"Gah!"
Sam rubs his back, or at least he reaches over his shoulders to try and soothe the spot.
"What!?"
Irate, Sam shouts at Mason, meeting his giddy face. Mason looks filled with cheer and brimming with curiosity.
"What can you do!?"
Mason leaps off of his seat, perched on a desk where Sam is on the seat, the two of them relaxing between classes. Mason leans forward at Sam, keeping his hands planted onto the desk, he throws his face into Sam's personal space.
"Ah! Uh- I uh, what do you mean?"
Sam nervously backs away, dreading this question. Ever since he manifested only shortly before, Sam knew that his Cursed energy was weaker than typical and that his manifestation was an odd one. He doesn't like the idea of fighting but wants in his own way to be strong enough to take down the creatures that threaten him.
"I mean when you fight! What kind of fighter are you? Caster? Swordsman? Ranged? Enhancer?"
Mason lists off a few more names of styles of fighting that Sam doesn't recognize, blurring into a mess of complicated and tiring-sounding examples. Mason continues on, not noticing how uncomfortable Sam squirms in his seat.
Sam starts to wring his wrists, fixing the cuffs that seem to feel tighter and tighter as Mason keeps talking. Sweat forms at his neck and now he pulls his tie a little looser, stressing. Mason lists more and more types of abilities that Sam could possibly have and finally,
"I don't know!"
Sam stands up, pushing his seat back and skidding it into the desk behind him. Sam stares at Mason and watches in fear as he just outbursts to his only friend, quick to believe he'll throw him away after this.
ULP
Sam's throat croaks as he awaits Mason's probably angered response.
"Hmph."
Mason seems to pout, throwing his arms in a knot across his chest, sitting back in his posture, leaned away from Sam. Mason looks to consider now, thinking about something deeply.
"Is it that you don't know, or that you haven't tried?"
Mason lets his hands off of his torso, laying them out like Sam has options to choose out of them.
Mason continues,
"Because if you're unfamiliar, then it could mean that you have the potential for all types, right?"
Mason lends his hand out to Sam now, for a genuine handshake.
Sam calms down with Mason's words, accepting his strange logic and taking his hand, shaking it as firmly as the weak boy can. Mason smiles at him and cheers him on.
***
Back in the room of the Second-Year Cursed class, Mason and Sam sit waiting to see what Gentus has for them in the manner of playing, as he says. The class has all left to gather their equipment and weapons, preparing for some sort of battle. What kind of battle though is what intrigues Mason. Wishing and waiting for another chance to fight Gentus properly.
After a short wait, the students slowly fill the room with chatter and clanging armor and weapons, throwing it all to their desks and waiting for Mr. Gentus to return. Then,
"Students!"
Mr. Gentus reaches into their heads, throwing his voice like a dagger into their thoughts and speaking aloud.
"If you have gathered all of your proper gear, I'd like to see you fall to the back of the campus grounds."
Mr. Gentus rips his voice away as quickly as he wrought, and the class can feel a slight headache touch them.
Excited giggles and hmph's from ready participants throw out into the air above them, raising their blades and fists with vigor. The class funnels out of the room and drags eyes with them by other classes as they leave the floor. Creating several layers of sound with their bodies alone, the class clamors all the way until they can walk freely outside.
A shivering wind throws leaves and dust against them as they exit the building, pulling and dragging around them until they can stand upright. The class looks on at the path leading towards the colosseum. Stone pillars line their sides meters apart, lit by silver-blue flame-lights; nifty magic the school uses for visual effect second, and to deter the arrival of Faiths or Blights first.
Following the grand path forward, the class looks around at the falling decorations from yesterday's celebration. Mason catches the particularly large BRECK poster that stands at the center of the wall at the end of the path. Students around him whisper about the famous upperclassmen.
"I heard he actually killed a Demon?"
"How could he have killed a Demon, they haven't been to earth since the war?"
"Idiot."
"Shut up, it's just what I heard."
"Well, that's dumb."
"Well, what did you hear about him then?"
"The normal stuff, like he can take down AA-Class Blights and Faiths like nothing?"
"He's a 1st-Class already? And so young?"
"The youngest, apparently."
"Wasn't there another?"
"Yeah but-"
Mason pushes past the many other students ahead of him, trudging through their arms, shoulders, and backs to get to the front of them. The whole class stops and watches him storm through them and reach upward to the large poster hanging in front of him.
Breck's charming smile mocks him as he tears it free from the wall. Mason takes time to crumple each end of it into a large ball, throwing it behind him into one of the silver-blue lights. Catching, the poster turns into a brighter glowing ball of flame and slowly dangles from the hanging fixture, eventually blowing away as ashen pieces of paper.
The class finally moves on after Mason leaves them behind, finding the colosseum first. Filling in around him and then around the top observation deck, the class gazes at the enormous battlefield before them.
The colosseum is built in an oval bowl, layered in wide seats that act as the steps as well, leading to the curved upward edges of the top of the bowl. At every third tower atop the bowl stand large statues made to look like Angels, Demons, and humans with large weapons and armor. They each look down into the battlefield beneath them, watching over the growth of the next generation.
Falling in a wash over the side of the colosseum they entered, the students pepper the stands and look around at more of the furnishing. Mason stays at the top of the stands, looking out into the grander battlefield. He focuses on the giant gouges made into the land, imagining the sight of Breck throwing lights or weapons into the earth at his enemies.
"Tch."
Continued in PART FORTY-ONE…