The clash of our wooden blades echoed through the training hall like thunderclaps. Isobel moved like a practiced soldier, black hair pulled tight into a bun that bobbed with each twist, purple eyes locked on me with predatory focus. She wasn't using any of her illusion magic today. Instead, she wove Spells right into her swordplay, dark tendrils snaking from her free hand to lash at my legs while her rapier darted for my shoulder.
I parried the onslaught easily, aura crackling along my blade to counter her shadows, but she was fast. Too fast. One tendril wrapped my ankle, yanking me off-balance just as she lunged. Her rapier grazed my arm, obviously unable to draw blood, but it still stung like hell.
"'Got you~," Isobel intoned, circling me with that cocky grin. "Last time we fought, I put too much faith in Mind Surge. When you got up, I relied on the House to keep me upright. Without it backing me in the same way, I need to focus on my own skill to win."
