Briar's POV

Professor Vantas was extremely talented with runes, I will grant him that. However, he was a terrible teacher. This is basically how the lesson went-
“Alright, fuckers, this is how you make fire.” He’d quickly sketch a rune in the air, make complicated signs with his hands too quickly for normal humans to follow, and voila! Fire. The only people who were able to keep pace with him were Lisse, Nico, and, of course, Gareth. Zenery, Tyron, Larimar and set all seemed to manage alright, but the rest of us were completely confounded. After quite a lot of vocal abuse from the Professor, I think he finally realized it was hopeless and dismissed us. However, we all realized, once we were standing in the hall and Professor Vantas had slammed the door behind us (We could still hear him mumbling profanities), that none of us had any idea which class we had next.
“It’s probably combat,” commented the ever-practical Larimar. Nico raised an eyebrow.
“If it’s not? I, personally, don’t want to be tortured in a variety of painful and creative ways just because the Headmasters forgot to tell us our next class.” Luckily, Azami took the decision out of our hands. Her voice echoed through the corridors, a tad irritable.
“Why are you not here yet? Combat is a vital class, and you really oughtn’t miss it. That might lead to… consequences.” We looked at each other, and ran.
By the time we reached the arena, a good five-minute sprint away, not only were all of us out of breath but Azami and Milaek were out of patience. Not, of course, that they had much to begin with.
“I was unaware, Milaek dear,” began Azami acidly, “That there was a fifteen=minute break between classes.” Milaek sneered.
“There isn’t. These impertinent first-years,” she hissed, “decided to be late. To the one class we teach. I would have thought they’d have more sense then that.” Azami smiled. It wasn’t a nice smile.
“Well then, I suppose we’ll skip the introduction, since we simply don’t have the time for it. What you’re going to do…” here Milaek picked up seamlessly, “… is try to kill each other using your powers.” I stared at her incredulously. Either they were joking (highly doubtful) Or they were quite, quite mad. I’d place a large bet on the latter. A few of my classmates looked faint, another couple extremely angry. Overall, however, the first-years looked bewildered. Befuddled. Confused. Whatever word you wish to use, we stared at Milaek in mixed levels of incredulity. (I noticed that Amber switched her gaze between Milaek and Azami, just to be accommodating).
“And, just to be fair… Briar, Tyron, and Caleb can have their room back if two of them win their matches.”
I leaned against the wall after watching the match between Lisse and Caleb. Poor Caleb and his rat both looked scared witless, and I can’t say I blamed either of them. After that match, no one wanted to go within a ten-yard radius of Lisse and her evil snake and her creepy cannibal smile. Most of the other matches had been similarly eventful, although short, as very few students had any training. Set, evidently not wishing the headmasters to reveal any more of his past, gained an easy victory over Amber though, as she was distracted by ‘The Shinies’, whatever those happened to be. I had the vague idea they may have been Set’s rabbit’s eyes. In any case, no one really had a chance to appreciate either of their powers. The match between Gareth and Xerin lasted hardly half a second, as somehow he knocked her out cold (it was too fast for any of us to be able to tell what had happened). She still hadn’t moved, and her dragon (much decreased in size) was nudging her frantically, not that either Azami or Milaek cared. Zenery defeated Illia through tricky use of telekinesis on their surroundings (for that match, the arena was rough terrain). Larimar nearly vanquished Tyron, but right before she dealt the finishing blow, he swung himself onto his elephant and opened an enormous crevasse beneath her feet, causing both Caleb and myself to breathe a sigh of relief. Finally, it was my turn. Nico watched me uncertainly as we mounted the stairs to the arena.
“Last match, is it? Hmm… Nico would have an unfair advantage on rougher topography… so you two will engage in your little skirmish on the ice!” Azami looked delighted with her idea. Nico and I exchanged an incredulous glance.
“Oh fuck,” was his only comment.
The floor of the arena became slippery beneath us, and the room seemed to disappear. Tall pillars of ice flew out of the ground, and the pieces we were standing on began to break up beneath our feet. Freezing water sloshed over the sides of the ice.
Then the starting bell rang.
I had seen enough matches to know how it went, and apparently so had Nico. Instantly, he pulled his lance out, and charged at me across the slippery ice. I materialized my longsword and darted backwards to avoid his attack. However the instant my feet came back in contact with the ice I realized exactly how bad of an idea moving at all on this was. I lurched foreword on the slippery surface and barely managed to catch myself before I fell into the water. Nico seemed to be having the same issue, seeing as he had gotten no further than a few feet before almost falling into the splits. Just thinking about that made me wince. I could hear someone laughing loudly amid all the other giggles, and recognized the voice to be Xerin’s. Of course she would find this humiliation hilarious. Her match, at least, had been over quickly. I had a feeling however that I would not be as fortunate. Nico seemed to have gained his bearings again, and I could see him thinking, as his eyes seemed to get a bit more violet when he was deep in thought. Then, as quickly as it had appeared, the look was gone. So either he had come up with a way to move on this goddamned stuff, or had decided just to jump in the water and be done with it. When his eyes started to crackle with energy I hurriedly decided on the former. I quickly did a mental scan to try and remember what the fuck his power was.
Suddenly I noticed a shadow above my head. I looked up just in time to see a jolt of purple-white energy shoot out of a rain cloud that had not been there moments ago. Oh yeah. I thought as I flew across the room. Fucking weather. The blast hurt like a bitch, but thankfully didn’t seem to have caused any real damage. Unlike Illia, Nico’s powers were based in water. So the electricity cast from his storm clouds was only a small amount, and the bulk of the blast seemed to be made up of water or ice. Still hurt like all hell.
I slowly picked myself up from the snow bank I had been lucky enough to land in. Only a few feet away there was a deadly- looking shard of ice sticking out of the ground. If I had hit that…  well let’s just say I wouldn’t have had to worry about Nico anymore.
Speaking of Nico, he had yet to make another move. If I were him I would have followed up with slamming me into the ground with the lance before I had the chance to right myself. I coughed a little, wincing at the pain that shot through my chest, and glanced up to see exactly what the devil Nico was up to. Much to my surprise, he stood in the exact same place, and was leaning heavily on his lance. Then it dawned on me. A stunt like that must have taken quite a bit of energy. Well , he wasn’t the only one with powers here, and he was probably too tired to move for the next couple of seconds. My turn. I quickly retreated into my mind and grabbed a fistful of power without really looking. I narrowed my eyes. That ought to be enough. Using that peculiar twist in the threads that allowed me to teleport, I swooped in and landed behind Nico. I saw him turn, shocked, as I aimed a kick at the back of his knees. His legs buckled and he crumpled forwards, sliding several feet. I tried to teleport again, but was too distracted to focus. Instead I hit the ice, and skittered backwards, nearly sliding over the edge. Just as I began to regain my balance I glimpsed something blue in the corner of my vision, then proceeded to feel it as it rammed itself against my legs. Goddamned 5-foot lance. I fell on my hands and knees, and slipped towards Nico, who was now using his lance to help him stand. It was easy to see he was nearing his limit, and I could feel the pull of fatigue on my own mind. If this went on much longer we would both probably end up losing the ability to walk, let alone fight, on this horrible arena. I wanted to finish this, before we both broke our necks on this damned ice. I frowned, groping for a thread in the center of my power. It was a charnel house, but I was confident I could find the one I wanted. Wait… what was that? Five glowing spots of color pulsed in front of the usual tangle of gold filaments. Blue… bronze… red… green… orange. They all bore inscriptions- The Seven Halls of Sadness, The Clockwork Realms, The Ruby Prison, The Glade of the Joyful, and the Flaming Halls. This was, to quote Louis Carroll, becoming curiouser and curiouser. Frowning, my inner self drifted closer to the green spot, the one labeled ‘The Glade of the Joyful’. I was not expecting it to suck me in. I was also not expecting to end up in a gloomy, dangerous-looking forest. I was positively shocked, however, to see an interested Zenery and both headmasters materialize a moment later.
“Was this really the best time to poke the glowing circle, or were you afraid of losing the match?” was the first thing out of Zenery’s mouth.