Chapter Five

Once my homeroom had finally had their fill of talking over one another and internalized gushing for Milo’s arrival, I took it as my opportunity to finally get us started.

“No holding back, these acolytes won’t,” I said, gesturing for them to split off into their four-person teams. “Individually, none of you could compete, but as a coven, you should, at the very least, put up a sporting match. Who knows, if you spent the summer training like you were supposed to, you might very well win.”

They wouldn’t—though some truly believed if they planned accordingly, they would. After all, none of my trainings last year set them up for a guaranteed failure, but that was something they needed. Handling losses and pivoting for future successes were as important as securing victories in the guild industry.

“The rules are pretty simple.” I waved a hand, telekinetically reeling ropes over that I’d set aside from the fitness station and moving them into a circular shape covering a large portion of the rock terrain. Not enough to allow anyone space to hide, pause, and plan a counter, but enough for mobility and evasion without tripping over each other when casting. “This is where you’ll compete. Get knocked past the designated arena, immobilized, or knocked out, then…well, you’re out.”

“Knocked out?” Carter gulped. “So, we’re really not holding back?”

“Do we ever?” I asked, ignoring the twinge of guilt as his thoughts swirled into every protective measure he’d mastered with his branch.

Jennifer stood with her arms folded and her fingers reaching out, poking him with her sharp, stiletto-shaped black nails.

“Looks like rejuvenation’s gonna be a game changer,” Carter boasted, hands on his hips, shoulders squared, and a goofy grin oozing bravado…even if only for show. “I just feel bad for the other teams.”

“Speaking of.” I redirected the discussion. “First up will be Ben’s Coven.”

“No, no, no, Mr. Frosty.” Gael waggled his finger back and forth, practically shaming me. “You have to properly announce us by our official coven’s name.”

I stared, doing my best not to express how irksome I found their coven name.

“What’s the matter?” Gael asked. “You’re the one who insisted we fill out the forms over the summer.”

“ Kind of a dick move too, giving us paperwork over the summer, ” Yaritza thought, rolling her eyes in equal annoyance for me and the coven’s name that Gael had somehow talked her, Jamius, and Tara into agreeing upon. Well, apparently, Gael hadn’t so much talked Yaritza into the name as he’d agreed to never comment even remotely on her improved ranking if she signed off on the name. So, let’s add extortion to Gael’s growing list of terrible talents.

I ground my teeth. “You realize this is your official documented coven name. It’s the name you’ll have to introduce yourselves to industry panels with. It’s the first name prospective guilds will see when looking into your file.”

“Wait, what?” Jamius raised his brows. “But Gael said…”

“Chill, bro. It’s our temporary official coven title.” Gael batted his lashes, devious thoughts weaved in between a hundred innuendos I couldn’t actually figure out what he intended on blurting. “Mr. Frosty said the paperwork had to be filled out before our second year but that we could update the profile anytime so long as we had any and all coven updates finalized by April 1 st .”

Seriously? Gael couldn’t remember a single assignment the moment he’d stuffed it in his book bag, but he recalled one offhanded conversation I had between lessons months ago? Gael was a vexing paradox of mischief and mayhem.

The purpose behind students picking their coven names over the summer came down to collaboration, independence, and initiative. Forcing them to work together over the summer to contact each other, decide on a name, and file the forms allowed students a small taste of the industry paperwork they’d be expected to keep up on without much oversight from a nagging instructor. Did it always work? No. But I always had plenty of time to rectify those shortcomings during the school year. That said, I’d never had a group come up with such a crude, overused, and frankly tacky coven title.

I sighed. “First up, Ben Dover’s Coven.”

Gael beamed; students giggled; Milo’s so-called professional acolytes chuckled, too. It didn’t help when Enchanter Evergreen wheezed, fighting back laughter and egging on the humorous energy.

“Yes, so so funny,” I said, completely deadpan. “Let’s see if your coven’s collaboration is half as skillful as your team’s puns.”

“We got this in the bag.” Gael punched a fist against his palm.

“Cl-cluck!” His rooster fluttered, leaping onto Gael’s shoulder.

“Right.” Gael nodded. “Any rules to this battle? Branch magics allowed, or is this one of those trainings where you’re afraid of what’ll happen if I unleash the full fury of my mighty cock?”

I glared, ignoring the bubbling laughter Milo fought back. To be fair, he kept himself completely composed on the surface, but with our minds so intertangled, I could hear every cackling thought of amusement that crossed his mind. Gael’s immature humor resonated with Milo. Ugh… Had he found a favorite student?

“All right.” I waved Tara and her coven over. “Let’s begin.”

“Wait, wait, wait!” Milo swooped in the air, hovering behind me. “We gotta make it official.”

“Huh?” I quirked a brow.

He zipped by, flying to the proctoring room at the far end of the auxiliary gym. The billboard display lit up, projecting our first coven training.

Ben Dover’s Coven

VS

Finesse

“Try not to embarrass yourself too much, El.” Lena folded her arms, scowling. Underneath that angry fa?ade lay soft support rooting for Acolyte Reed—not hopeful she’d win, Lena expected that much, but that Ellie would impress my class with her skills.

“When do I ever embarrass myself?” Ellie waltzed forward, tripping over her own foot. The one saving grace she had was the swift activation in her levitation root to keep from falling face-first onto the gravel. “That was on purpose.”

No. It wasn’t.

She popped a hip in Lena’s direction. “Keeping them on their toes.”

It had the opposite effect, making Gael’s absurdly named coven drop their guard. I rolled my eyes.

“Well?” I cleared my throat. “What are you all waiting for?”

“Are we starting?” Jamius asked.

“I am.” Ellie raised an arm, aiming her large key used as a support item to channel her branch magic.

“Lock. Lock. Lock.”

Gael shoved Tara, knocking her headfirst onto the ground while his familiar kicked Yaritza with a telekinetic burst, throwing the young witch into the air. A reckless move, but Yaritza’s telekinesis and levitation roots were her best, allowing her to quickly shift her trajectory and find balance midflight.

I scrunched my face, studying Gael’s locked pose. Out of everyone in his coven, he was the last one I anticipated to predict Ellie’s move set, yet as a major Enchanter Evergreen fanboy, he knew all about his favorite idol and those he worked alongside. The second Gael saw Ellie lift her key, he acted. Though his thoughts swarmed with doubts. This was his chance to show off his abilities, but instead of saving his coven and rushing ahead to fight the sexy, full-figured Finesse— ugh, this kid —he ended up locked in place from head to toe.

“ Sorry, ” Gael thought. “ I fucked up. I should’ve done better… ”

His thoughts sank into despair, all the sunshine in his mind dimming to dust that he’d failed to impress—

King Clucks crowed, cutting through the sorrow. The two shared a few seconds of silence until the light in Gael’s thoughts returned. Whatever words of communication they shared, I couldn’t glean them. Not on the rooster’s end, anyway. Gael might’ve had a locked jaw of shock on his face, but internally, he was all smiles thanks to his familiar’s emotional support.

The rooster puffed, unable to move. Even though Ellie’s lock strike hadn’t hit the rooster since he used root magic to knock Yaritza out of the way, familiars shared a very close bond with their witches. Perhaps Ellie’s ward magic took that into account as some ripple effect. If so, fascinating.

Jamius vibrated, the only one Gael hadn’t been close enough to push out of the way; watery replications stretched far, flowing against his brown complexion and brightening the warm undertones of his skin. His body convulsed, and the elasticity of his duplications snapped back with loud pops like a flurry of rubber bands.

“Son of a bitch,” he shouted.

“Careful, or I’ll lock that potty mouth next.” Ellie smiled.

“ She’s good, managing to lock Gael in place and Jamius’ magic from making copies, ” Yaritza thought, digging into her purse. “ But let’s see her lock up fifty targets at once. ”

Yaritza let out an enthusiastic shout along with a frenzy of explosive rocks. She hurled them from overhead toward Ellie, who used telekinesis to whip Jamius in her direction.

“What the hell?” He spun in the air, squeezing his eyes firmly shut and recalling how many times Yaritza’s star showers had smashed his clones. “Stop!”

“Wait. Hold on.” Yaritza waved a hand, shifting the direction of her star shower projectiles. “ It’s still not enough. ”

They whirled wider, spinning past Jamius and looping around behind Ellie.

“ Wow. I’ve gotten hella good. ” Yaritza released the tension in her shoulders, channeling her root magics seamlessly.

Standing to her feet, Tara subtly added a layer of her telekinesis and weaved it between Yaritza’s to strengthen the redirection. Still, the strongest in her group with her roots and the most humble, allowing Yaritza to bask in the success while Tara studied Ellie’s movements.

“Smooth,” Ellie said, pivoting around Jamius.

While I expected a few cuts and bruises, I really didn’t want one of my students to be seriously hurt. Here, I figured Lena would be the heaviest-handed in combat.

“Unlock.” Ellie pointed her key at Jamius, unleashing every copy he’d attempted and failed to release once she’d locked his branch. Two dozen duplicates burst out, colliding with Yaritza’s star shower.

The exertion of expelling that much branch magic simultaneously immediately rendered Jamius unconscious.

“It wasn’t me. Well, not on purpose! You can’t blame me for blowing up your extras this time.” Yaritza flew down to help Jamius, unaware he’d passed out.

“Possessing a powerful branch is amazing”—Ellie waved her key like she was slicing through the air—“unless you lack the precision to properly redirect it.”

Yaritza’s entire body stiffened, every muscle locked in place, leaving her incapable of continuing.

Tara studied the invisible strike, her mind spinning back to Darla’s hex branch that sent waves of counter magic every time the warlock aimed a dagger at a target. It didn’t raddle Tara, instead providing her with a familiar sense of strategy. The key to winning this battle was literally removing Ellie’s key from play. Not a bad idea, except Ellie held the opposite channeling issues Darla had. That hex warlock required a support tool in order to cast her branch. Ellie possessed so much magic, she used the key to keep it focused and allowed her to live up to her industry stage name: Finesse.

“ If I want to stand a chance against her, I need to use all my branches. ” Tara hovered toward Ellie, who crinkled her brow.

“ The threads are so entangled. How does she even cast? ” Ellie aimed her key at Tara, wavering.

Fascinating. Acolyte Reed didn’t only possess the ability to lock or unlock matter; she actually saw the threads that connected everything down to a molecular level. I couldn’t visualize how she processed this second sight as it remained veiled behind her magic, similar to how Milo’s visions usually remained hidden from my telepathy. That said, the many overlapping branches in Tara’s body left Acolyte Reed wide-eyed.

Her hesitation afforded Tara an opportunity to move in for an attack, unleashing a half dozen shadows in the form of whips. Their tips were laced in golden hues. Incredible. She’d finally found a way to use her three overlapping branches together in a combative form. The shadows served as a conduit connecting her intangibility arcane magic and sealing ward magic. She made the shadows themselves phase through the rocky terrain, leaving everything unscathed because the entirety of the tendril was merged with her intangibility. The only real danger in her strikes came from the shadows’ tips that were coated in gold and sealed tight, holding a heavy amount of magic channeled in a singular location.

Tara had literally transformed her channeled magic into a battering ram she flung at targets.

“Lock. Lock. Lock.” Ellie weaved between the shadow whips, barely evading the strikes. “ Dammit. I hit two dormant threads and her sensory root. I can’t pinpoint the veins holding her active branches. ”

Dormant? Did she mean damaged threads that Tara channeled her branches through or other potentially unharnessed branches? After all, she’d only recently unlocked her fourth branch last semester. She could have more that’d yet to blossom.

Clink.

Tara landed a strike on Ellie’s key, reeling me from my thoughts and focusing on the battle.

“ Yes. ” Tara soared closer. “ Gotcha. Just need to alter the flow, and I’ll win this. ”

Pride burned brighter than the sun, shining down on the ocean in her mind. My heart hitched. I clamped my jaw, awaiting what would happen next.

The golden hue exploded, sprinkling flecks everywhere, and the shadow’s tip wrapped around the key…then…nothing.

Acolyte Reed pivoted, flying around the shadowed whip and charging directly toward Tara.

“ Still can’t switch branch frequencies once they’re laced together. ”

I understood. Tara’s goal was to release her ward that sealed things and replace it with her intangibility funneling through the rest of the shadow. If she’d done that, the magic would’ve made Acolyte Reed’s key intangible, removing the support tool from play. A brilliant strategy. But Reed had already decided the elegance of her key wouldn’t work on Tara.

Reed flew in close, planting a hand on Tara’s stomach. “Lock.”

Tara’s entire body froze; magic, muscles, even her thoughts ceased momentarily—it seemed the only measure Reed had to severe all the threads connecting Tara’s branches.

“That’s the match,” I said. “Not that it could be called much of one. Maybe I should see if any of our incoming first years could put up a better showing.”

“ Harsh, ” Milo thought.

I wanted to complement their coordinated attempt, but this was an overall failure on their part. They needed to sit with the loss, feel the sting, the brief wave of embarrassment. I could mold it later, harness their drive, and focus it to ensure these little slip-ups didn’t happen once they graduated. In the field, it’d be more than a bad performance. It’d be the difference between life and death.