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Chapter 52 - Combat with Professor Cedric Cold
🕑 Added 2025-12-09 13:00:07 +0000 UTCCharacters -
Felix Sutter: Poor boy living in Sacramento, recently found out magic existed. Hard worker, knows the price of everything.
Erik Morsin: Heir to the Duchy of the Emerald Isle. Just wants to play his violin.
Sora Park: Erik’s loyal friend. Loves flying. An absolute broombrain.
Vivian Merryweather: An expert on all things color, fashion, and of the heart. Gets seasick easily.
Alexandria Renard: Wants to be the next Morgana Le Fay. Can’t speak louder than a whisper.
Hazel Winslow: Ran away from an abusive cult. Awoke as a natural mind mage.
Kevin Moon: Light bigot, wants to make sure Felix and Hazel are with 'the right people'. A dumbass. Possibly the chosen one?
Naomi Bones: Beautiful, elegant, and refined. Wears golden jewelry, but makes it look classy. Purrs a lot in her speech. Has bone and spider silk fence for her mental defenses.
Professor Cedric Cold: Overweight Combat class professor. Ran orientation. Sword foci.
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While the world slept, the slaughter's echo remained trapped.
No crows flew.
No ravens cried.
No merchant brought word.
And no sword was raised -
For none yet knew.
The Saga of Bjorn, Verse 23
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Felix made his way down to the ground floor where combat class was being held. He turned the corner, and the first thing he noticed was there were a lot of students here. A lot of students. One of the girls was handing out cookies!
“Hi! I’m Astrid!” She beamed at him as he approached the mob. “Oooh, you’ve got to be Sutter! The only dragon! Look, I baked one special for you!”
On her tray was dozens and dozens of cookies, cut up into the shape of each house’s mascot. There seemed to be an unusually high number of phoenix cookies, but Felix was willing to bet that was because of the baker’s house. There were indeed a handful of dragon cookies with black frosting on them.
“Thank you!” He said, grabbing one of them.
“No problem! It’s great that we’ve got one class with everybody together. Cookies for everyone!”
Then the girl’s attention was pulled away by someone else coming by. Felix spotted Erik and the rest of the nascent coven, and slipped his way through the crowd to them.
“Does everyone have combat class in the same block?” He asked.
“Looks like it.” Erik said.
“Good.” Alexandria hissed with narrowed eyes. Hazel was strategically hiding behind a few of the other coven members, and Felix met Erik’s eye. Erik nodded to a spot, and Felix rolled his eyes, but shuffled over to finish the Hazel-human-shieldwall.
“Thanks.” She quietly said, which made Felix’s day for some reason.
There was a commotion down the hallway, where Moon and Thalorien were viciously arguing with each other. Felix ignored the wankers. The more damage the two of them could do to each other, the better. Something, something ‘dark evil’, something ‘utter traitors, your ancestors would be ashamed’, something, ah, the meaty thwack of a punch being thrown. A lack of magical knowledge wasn’t going to stop kids from getting in fights.
Felix felt a guilty mix of relieved and nostalgic. The more things changed, the more they stayed the same. Wixen weren’t otherworldly creatures. They were people, humans with their own blind problems like everyone else.
“Oi! What’s going on here?” Professor Cold bellowed out. The man was still a head taller than most of the other adults, and still immensely fat. The flask at his hip was same as before, and he was chewing on some jerky that came out of a pouch.
“Break it up, break it up.” He said. “I can see you’re all a mite eager for class, but if you’re going to fight, you’re going to do it properly. Alright, in you lot go.”
Alex and Erik both barked a short laugh. A few of the other students also laughed, and Felix chuckled as he got the ‘joke’.
Any other class, they would’ve been docked points at least, possibly gotten detention. But they’d gotten caught right before the one class where they were supposed to be fighting.
Felix filed along with everyone else, and they ended up sitting in the stands of the outdoor dueling arena.
“When the weather’s nice, we’ll be out here.” Professor Cold said, nodding up to the clouds above. Felix remembered that the weather was controlled by the headmaster, and last week’s storms had been epic. “When the weather’s bad, we’ll also be out here.”
Felix groaned along with half the class at the terrible joke.
“Combat magic. This is the class that’ll keep you alive. Fancy rituals are nice and all, but one zombie will kill you if you’re no good at fighting. Mind magic’s a thing of beauty and terror… but skeletons are infamously mindless. Charms make your lives easier, and this is the class where you’ll learn charms to destroy your enemies. Now, I’ma start off with homework.”
The class groaned.
“Three hours of exercise a week. Keep a journal, hand it into me. Oi, little Dragon.” Professor Cold called out.
“Me?” Felix asked, pointing to himself and looking around.
“Yeah, you. Your morning Dragon stuff counts as exercise. Right then. Raise your hand if you don’t think you need this class. If the Praetorians and guards are enough. If your lord’ll keep you safe. Raise your hand if this class is a gigantic waste of your time, and you’ll drop it as soon as you can. Come on now, don’t be shy, I won’t hold it against you.”
Moon’s hand was the first one up, and a number of other hands went up. Felix was about to put his up, remembered that he wanted to visit terrible vengeance of some flavor on Paracelsus and that none of his other coven members were putting their hands up, and stayed still.
“That’s so much exercise!” Vivian complained, quietly enough that it didn’t carry.
“Fit people are more attractive.” Erik whispered back. Vivian perked up significantly at the news, and Alex buried her head in her hands.
“You can all guess what I’m going to say next now, yeah?” Professor Cold said, popping another piece of jerky into his mouth. “You’re dead wrong. And I’m saying that literally. Dead. Wrong.”
He started to pace back and forth.
“Logres has been at war an average of once every 40 years since Merlin sundered the world. That’s ten wars, and I’m not counting little skirmishes. I’m talking total, all-out war. Your generation is damn lucky. The last war happened when you were all little kids. Statistically, the next will be when you’re around 40, 45 years old.”
He stopped.
“You’ll be in the prime of your life. You’ll have a family to defend. You’ll have a business to lose. You will be on the front lines of whatever unholy conflict graces our shores, and you will have everything to lose. I’m not talking about little spats here and there that the people paid the shiny aureli handle. I’m talking complete and total war. War that doesn’t care that your little home is in the middle of an enchanted woods. War that doesn’t care that your focus is a quill, and not a staff. War that’ll eat you alive, and if we’re particularly unlucky, literally.”
Professor Cold nodded in Erik’s direction.
“No offense, little Morsin, but your dad did kick off one of these and we’re still feeling it today. Gotta study it quite a bit.”
There were quite a few mean comments and dirty looks shot towards Erik, and by extension, just by sitting near him, Felix. For the first time, Felix was starting to truly understand what Paracelsus’s warning had been about.
“Now, war’s never predictable. It might come to our shores when you’re 40. It might come sooner, when you’re 20. Maybe we’ll have an unprecedented stretch of peace, and you’ll need to fight when you’re old and grey.”
Professor Cold drew his sword and pointed it at the field. It twisted and turned, becoming a three-story building in no time at all.
“Most of you are still in the first circle, and that’s alright. Nothing wrong with it. But I can’t teach you any good spells until you’re at least the second circle. In your third week, you’ll have enough theory from your charms class and your magical theory class that I’ll be able to teach you all the pigment hex. Basic little spell, puts a spot of color on you if you get hit. Mmm. I should back up a bit.”
“Duels these days are to the first connected spell, and there’s a darn good reason for it. Doesn’t matter what you’re hit with. From a tickle jinx to the executioner’s hex, the first landed spell creates a massive advantage. It’s easy enough to capitalize on the advantage from the caster, and hard enough to fight through a curse for the defender, that the duel is over. Cause the same thing’s true in a fight. Get hit with the paintball spell, you’re ‘dead’. Course, if we played by proper stun rules, half of y’all would get hit in the first minute, then be stuck staring at a nail while the last three wixen played cat and mouse for an hour. Then class would be over, and you’d learn what nails look like and floor feels like, and that’s an entirely useless lesson as far as I’m concerned.”
Felix was vaguely admiring how different Professor Cold was between orientation and here. If it wasn’t for the man’s girth, he would’ve assumed it was a twin or something. Maybe the professional face versus the teaching face?
“The first thing you all should know. Your wand, or whatever focus you decide to use, is a weapon. It can hurt, main, and kill, and you must be aware of it. Camelot teaches you all bad habits, in my opinion. Cursing each other in the hallways, casting spells on others. Someone points a wand at you, it’s potentially a lethal gesture. Even if you know the spell they’re casting, you never know if there’s a sound-changing spell on them first. Even if you trust them, there might be some funky mind magic at play. With all that said, I know I’m fighting against the current here. None of you will stop pointing wands at each other, and half the damn point of this class is to encourage you to do exactly that. If you can take anything from this - your wand is a weapon. It will be on the test. It will be worth a significant portion of your grade.”
Professor Cold nodded in a satisfied way to himself.
“Right then, that’s today’s lecture. Onto the practical. For those of you who haven’t heard from an older sibling or cousin, I’m a big fan of the noonie ‘laser tag’ game. Great idea, that. You all grab one of these tools here, get into this maze over here, and run around trying to cast at each other. As I mentioned before, we’ll be upgrading to the paintball spell later on. When you’re hit by the spell, your own tool will be turned off for a few seconds, letting you know you’re ‘dead’. Take the time to reposition. Or if you’re feeling particularly dramatic, act out your own demise, I don’t care. Just get back up and keep playing once the timer’s up. Each tool will be a different team color. You get three points each time you tag someone with a different color. You lose one point when you get tagged, and five points every time you tag someone with your color. Look before you shoot, friendly fire isn’t. Hmmm…”
The professor trailed off, reached into his robes, and pulled out a notebook. He flipped through a few pages, tapped it twice with the back of his finger, and put it back.
“If you’re officially registered as a coven, you’ll all get the same color. Dame Elspeth’s office is open late today, and if you’re fast, you can register between classes. Before I release a bunch of teenagers to cause havoc on each other, a reminder! There’s no other spells allowed. No hitting, punching, or otherwise cleverly attacking each other. That includes pitfalls, tripwires, marbles on the ramps, and all the other very clever ideas you’re currently thinking of. It’s a no. There is a certain cleverness and trickiness that’s invaluable in a fight, but this is your first year. You’re all warming up. Morsin, that means you’re not allowed to take out your mace and start smacking people with it.”
“There goes my reputation.” Erik sighed as the class looked gobsmacked. “Honestly, you smash one knee, and people never let it go.”
“It’s been less than a week.” Sora grinned as she punched Erik’s shoulder. “Hardly forever.”
“All hail Morsin knee-smasher. May your saga be half as epic as your father’s.” Whispered Alexandria.
Vivian was busy preening under everyone looking roughly at her, and tried to show off by doing a slow hair flip-twirl-thing.
“Enough staring, get down here, grab a tool, get in there, and start playing.” The professor said. “In case you think you’re clever, just a reminder that I can see everything going on inside.”
Another flick of his sword, and dozens of panels folded up, revealing the inside of the structure like there were a thousand security cameras inside.
Felix followed everyone down, excitement steadily growing. This was laser tag! This was laser tag in everything but name! He’d always wanted to play, but it was way too expensive. But now it might be a class? It might be every class? Four, five times a week?
“Mate, you’ve got a super evil look on your face.” Sora said. “Not judging, but damn, that grin could curdle milk.”
Felix wanted to say something witty, but both him and Sora were handed their laser guns. He wasn’t going to call it a tool, or whatever name they had for it. It was a laser gun, and it sounded like they needed to hit anywhere on a person, not specific spots.
His lit up red, Sora’s lit up blue. Felix promptly shot the girl in retaliation.
“HEY!” She protested as Felix ran away cackling.
The inside was chaotic. A number of students were running already, while a group of girls were just hanging by the entrance, holding their laser guns loosely. Most of them had different colors, and they were just gossiping. The place was filled with half-walls, spyholes, ramps leading up and down, bridges where other students could be seen… it looked like so much fun!
Felix took off jogging, mindful that there was almost an hour of class time and that he had to pace himself. A sound emitted from his laser gun, and the lights dimmed.
“HA!” Sora yelled from right behind him. “Gotcha!”
“You’re not supposed to camp like that!” Felix complained.
“Camp? Nevermind.” Sora said, sticking her tongue out. “All’s fair in love and war, sucker!”
Felix’s lights flickered back on, and he shot Sora mid-gloat.
“HEY!” She protested, and the chase was on. Up ramps, down ramps, the two of them chased each other, occasionally shooting other people, but more focused on ‘getting even’, whatever that meant. By unspoken agreement, they occasionally buzzed the entrance and shot the girls standing there for free points, including Vivian. They didn’t even seem to notice, just kept right on talking. Sora was a beast, flicking her weapon all around her and tagging people they passed with no visible effort. One shot, one hit, and the only thing slowing her down was when Felix managed to tag her.
They spotted Erik leading a small squad of all-green guns. Sora waved, and one of them shot her.
“That was totally unfair!” She stomped her foot while waiting for her lights to come back on.
“Yeah, I agree.” Felix nodded along with a shit-eating grin. “Those were totally my points.”
“YOU!”
Felix ran and laughed.
A number of students had holed up together in a ‘fort’ area, and barrages of light flashed out whenever they went close.
All too soon, the lights on his laser gun dimmed, bright lights all around the area went up, and a loud whistle went through.
“Alright everyone, class’s done! Come on out, come on out. Thalorien, you’re getting docked 10 points for that little stunt of yours. Yes, you know what you did. Bones, take thirty points for leadership and organization, and getting different flagged groups to work together. You lot that were just standing around at the door. Detention with me tonight.”
Vivian looked devastated. Felix couldn’t muster up any sympathy. What did she expect, skipping the class activity?
“You know, if you had shot each other instead of talking, Professor Cold might’ve awarded you all points for gaming the system, instead of not doing anything.” Erik pointed out.
“Oh, fuck you.” Vivian snarled.
“Should’ve mentioned, the score you got inside? That’s your change in points. Congratulations to all of you! Put your tools down over here. Remember, Dame Elspeth so you don’t need to shoot your friends! Oh, Winslow, can I have a word with you?”
Naomi strutted up to Erik.
“Erik. I do believe you owe me dinner.” She purred, running one finger across his chest. “Tonight, in the dining hall? Unless you’d like to take me out to Corwin. I wouldn’t say no.”
Alexandria looked frankly murderous, and Felix could see that Erik was picking his words carefully.
“Why don’t we keep things simple and easy at the dining hall tonight?” He said.
Naomi fluttered her eyelashes.
“For saving your life?” She teased.
Erik flashed a grin.
“Saving the life happened at Camelot, I feel the dinner should also happen here, no?”
“Well… if you insist. See you tonight…. Erik.”
She sauntered away, and Erik held up his hands to Alexandria. She looked furious, and her mouth opened and closed a few times before she stomped her foot and stormed off without a word.
“That was so much fun!” Felix said as he walked up to Erik. The other boy was grinning.
“I know! This is my favorite class so far.”
Comments
Tsorov
friendly fire isn’t. Ah yes, Murphys first law of combat. I see I am reading from a truly knowladgeable author
Choronach
Is it too late to rename Vivian into Glinda with the air thingy she's doing ?
tr13ze
Thanks for the chapter 😁
