The breeze from so high up cut sharper, the air felt thinner and the views were of nothing but grey clouds. Towering plan tlife created a natural pathway, this island contained a larger array of colour for the leaves, from a moody grey to luminescent orange. And none of them drooped, instead they were curled like a spring and were perfectly level. Maybe if the Wither wasn't approaching it would be one of the most gorgeous plateaus in the world. Except, he was approaching and the chosen warrior to fight him was facing accusations of being inbred. Arthur's class were all in pairs training, except him. A little Mistrit kept following him. It was incredibly annoying because it was making sure not to be spotted by anyone except Arthur. He held a sword swathed in a glistening misty silver, it wasn't a regular metal due to its enchantment of magic within that radiated and seemed to somewhat make the blade molten. He swung lonesomely trying to remember old drills he watched his brother do when he was young. Each slice of the air felt unnatural as if he was chopping at sludge. The class had already turned their backs on him because of Master Ward. He had attempted to make conversation with the other students but it was useless, the little Mistrit was the only one who he could have conversation with. Even then, half that time it just laughed at him. Strangely, Master Ward had taken over the class. He apparently hadn't taught a class personally for over a decade but according to himself, he felt the immense urge to teach the youth again. Today they were learning how to use an infused weapon of their choice. Arthur chose a lightning sword, he didn't know why exactly but something dragged him to it. All of them were stable until a hand would squeeze hard enough and the blade would exert that element or force, or else it would cover the blade entirely if it were potent enough. The squeeze would merely activate it but it was the level of control one would have within their own body. Being able to control their breathing and tension on muscles was an easy way to master the blade. The wielder's own essence of magic would play a minor role but it could be incredibly vital if someone like Lurisa were to use it, since she was practically overflowing with essence, something Arthur was average in, once again. One of the girls, Kerr took an axe and it burst with radiant flames, the curved edge was covered, even the hilt, yet none of it dared to harm its holder. It hardly seemed to strain her by using the axe, as if it were a natural occurrence. Dreading the call of his name, he tightened his eyes shut. It's not like Arthur expected to start something and be amazing at it. Then again, it felt like he never just naturally picked up a skill. Everyone he knew had some ability or power, Lurisa was a talented mage, Bill could make friends with anything, his brother Alexander was a maestro with the blade and Arthur was just…a failure, he didn't even think of the word but instead saw it painted in red within his own mind. He was no warrior, he wasn't that naturally likeable, he wasn't that intelligent, he wasn't that wise, he wasn't that funny, he wasn't that strong, he wasn't that fast, he wasn't that–
"Now, Starloser."
"Starfinder," he replied hastily. Although, he was thankful for the interruption of his thoughts. Maybe that's all he was good at, overthinking.
"That's what I said," Master Ward answered.
Giggling sounded in Arthur's ear as the little Mistrit found the bullying to be hilarious. Arthur gritted his teeth quietly, "Why do you just laugh at me?"
The Mistrit flitted in front of him, "Because it's funny?" Its wings wagged like a happy dog, just a slight flutter to show it enjoyed replying with a useless answer.
"Making fun of people can end badly, you know?"
"Oooh," the Mistrit seemed to appreciate this information, "well I don't want to be the reason you jump off the island. Okay! I'll laugh at you behind your back more often! Thanks Arthur!" It disappeared from existence.
"Am I actually this bad at talking to people or does everyone just misinterpret what I say?" He frowned absently. He needed to zone in. Lifting the blade, it was solid and thin, it certainly looked heavier than how it felt. Inspecting the engravings on the hilt, the grooves left a natural placement for the fingers to dig into the grip. He ferociously thrusted the sword into the air trying to copy how the chosen one did it when fighting Detritus. A little small, tiny, minuscule dart of jade lightning escaped the tip, approximately a centimetre or two if being generous left the sword.
Master Ward placed his finger against the blade, which would normally be dangerous but since Arthur held the sword, not so much. "I will let you have a retry, as I am a believer in second chances," he watched the other students, "this is how you talk to future squires who cannot understand simple hints for those of you who will undoubtedly become successful and be masters." He mocked Arthur without any subtlety. How was this man allowed to teach the younger generation?
Pressing his fingers against the swords hilt, his fingers squeezed firmly like holding a ball that would drop if the grip lessened even just a minuscule amount. Instead of copying the ex-chosen one, he held the sword sideways with his two hands and raised it to a diagonal arc. Lightning burst from the hilt to the top. His blood surged with movement, suddenly Arthur felt triple the energy, his instincts felt sharper, everything in front of him had another shade of colour he had never noticed before, in this moment he knew if he was to fight that he wouldn't back down from anyone. It was like an adrenaline rush that took performance enhancing drugs.
Master Ward's eyes darted to the end of the blade, he could see it, even if Arthur couldn't. It was charging for a huge burst of energy. It wasn't often someone could perform that in their first few weeks of training. Only those with deep resolve tended to be able to hold in that power, almost in an attempt to demonstrate to themselves that they were strong. Arthur was about to prove his own self-deprecating thoughts wrong. Not on my watch, Starflipper. His finger pressed against the silver surface causing Arthur to lose all concentration. "This wouldn't even create enough electricity for an electric fence for cattle. You fail and detention."
"Detention for what?" He didn't understand what was going on. Could you get detention for not performing well?
"Oh, you're questioning me now, are you Starflop? You want another detention?" One brow lowered to tell Arthur he shouldn't say anymore. So, Arthur remained silent, there was no way to win or even lessen the punishment. Irritated by his lack of flourish, Arthur was so sure he was onto something at that moment. Obviously not. Still, it's not like his teacher would guide him easily. Master Ward was perhaps a petty man and he held grudges, clearly.