Previous chapters:
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
The pal raised his hands to the level of his chest, as if he was going to keep something in them. And literally in a couple of seconds a fire flared in his hands. Beautiful blue flame. All present opened their mouths. The master smiled and shook his head approvingly. The flame went out the way it appeared.
"Well," said Misty, "almost everyone showed a good mastery of magic. Some even skills of the magister level. It's good. Girl, will you show us anything today? He looked again at Siala."
My heart pounded faster. "Mastery at the magister level" - is he talking about the black-eyed pal? Incredible! "I must also light a fire! Any would be great!" She turned toward the torch and focused her gaze on it. But the torch stubbornly didn’t light up.
"Try through your hand," Archer whispered.
Burn. Burn. Burn, the wasteland take you!
"All right, we'll finish on this," said Misty, and stretched out his hand, indicating the direction. "There is a camp of magicians, there you can..."
"This hand has blocked the view on the torch for me!" the elf turned. In the head the anger grew. Burn, burn, burn, burn!
And fie kindled. But not on the torch. The magister's sleeve flared with an orange flame. It was obviously intended for a torch, because the sleeve instantly burned to the elbow. The girl strong in water magic quickly sent all the liquid from the mug to magister's hand. The fire went out. There was an absurd silence. Siala figured out what she had done. Well at least the hand of the Misty didn’t suffer.
Behind her, Archy and Marana burst out laughing. And his black eyes looked at her narrowed and some kind of mockery. The water girl stood in shock, pressing her hands to her face. She had just saved the magister, but only a little later she realized that he could simply put out the fire by himself with the power of thought. And now his hand was wet to the shoulder.
The magister exhaled:
"Good. Fire mage. Useful."
"Forgive me," Siala squeaked, and she heard the laughter of her friends again behind her.
"A good fire, though you need to practice with aim. Now you can all go to the camp of the magicians. There you will find an application and better your abilities who needs it. In a couple of weeks we will go to the battlefield, you must be ready!"
Siala looked at the black eyes. The guy was looking away, in his gaze was determination. This war means something to him. He is not here simply to pay the debt to his native Empire. There's more here. At some point the girl thought that the black eyes of the magician burned with fire.
Thank you for reading
