The next morning, Timothy presented Cassian with a bag containing the modified elemental stones. He had performed admirably and completed the work in a single day, and by all appearances, had followed Cassian’s specifications perfectly.
Cassian wasted no time. The first thing he did upon reaching the Academy was request permission to see the Special Quest room once more. The request was approved, and he was escorted by Professor Semperoblitus, who proved to be an enthusiastic guide. The professor eagerly answered every question Cassian asked about the room, its structure, and its function.
“But I am absolutely not going to tell you the secrets of where those portals lead,” Professor Semperoblitus added proudly. “Not at all.” He said in his oafish way, failing to notice he had already confirmed everything Cassian needed to know.
The next challenge was more difficult. Cassian sought permission from Professor Illustris to use the special training room for magical practice. She agreed without hesitation to allow Sabrina and Cassian access. Todd, however, was another matter.
“He does not have the qualifications,” she said calmly. “That room is not for him.”
The three of them pleaded. It would only be this once. Todd promised to raise his grades as soon as possible so he would qualify in the future. Sabrina vowed she would tutor him personally and make sure it happened. None of it moved her. It was only when Cassian spoke that Professor Illustris finally paused.
“I need Todd to succeed in the Special Quest,” Cassian said simply.
That made her consider it.
“And if you fail?” she asked, her tone as serene as ever.
Sabrina answered immediately. “You can turn Todd into whatever you want for the rest of the year. Maybe a hedgehog.”
Professor Illustris tilted her head. “I do like hedgehogs. They are adorable.”
Todd glared at Sabrina, then spoke up. “Fine. You can also turn Sabrina into a goldfish.”
Professor Illustris looked at him flatly. “Girls are already cute. They do not need transformation, Mr. Todd.”
Todd fell silent at once flabbergasted at the blatant favoritism.
The professor turned to Cassian next. “And you, Mr. Viamnova. What should I turn you into if you fail? Perhaps a cute little lion cub?”
Cassian did not hesitate. “If that is what you would like.” If he failed, becoming a lion cub sounded far preferable to facing the disappointment of the Academy and his family.
Professor Illustris smiled. “Very well,” she said. “Permission granted.”
The three of them moved quickly to the special training grounds. The door had already been repaired, and everything inside was pristine. That was to be expected. Within the Academy, a broken door or two was expected, and it was nothing that couldn’t be repaired in seconds. They set to work at once.
They stepped into the range zone, dragged the targets outside of it, and cleared the space they would need for themselves. A line was traced at the proper distance. The elemental stones were arranged in several neat lanes, all of them angled toward Cassian.
Todd and Sabrina each took up a sword and faced one another.
“Remember,” Cassian said, “when you say shoot, one of the stones activates and fires at me. Do it when you think I am least prepared.”
They nodded. Cassian had several small rocks in his pockets; he took one out.
“Don’t stop clashing either, find a rhythm to your hits.”
They nodded their heads again.
“Very well,” he said. “Begin.”
He moved at once, fast and focused, hurling a rock toward the line.
It went over the line.
“Too far, Cassian,” Sabrina called. “It’s lost.”
“Shoot!” Todd shouted.
One of the stones launched itself forward, igniting into a fireball midair. Cassian tried to dodge, but he was too slow. The spell struck him square in the face. His shield charm shattered instantly.
The impact would have been far worse if not for the protective magical tool Timothy had retrieved from the Viamnova vault, and the layered enchantments woven into the Academy uniform. Even so, the pain flared sharply across his face.
Cassian did not stop. He seized another rock, already moving, and threw again.
“Too short!” Todd screamed.
A clash of wood on wood filled the hall, as Sabrina and Todd exchanged blows. “Too slow!” Sabrina yelled. The she followed with “Shoot.”
A surge of water blasted into Cassian before he could evade. It slammed him to the ground. He rolled, forced himself back to his feet, and threw again.
“Too far!”
Another spell.
“Too fast!” came Todd’s voice, followed by the sound of another sword clash.
Sabrina struck. Todd countered.
Again and again it went.
Cassian threw rock after rock, misjudging distance by inches, by moments. Fireballs scorched him. Ice spears struck and shattered. Bursts of wind hurled him aside. Water knocked him down. Thunder rattled his bones. Stone slammed into his body like fists from the earth itself. And Sabrina and Todd keep clashing their swords.
He failed every dodge.
The practical class ended.
The training did not.
They gathered their things and ran for the Emeraldhold. In the training hall, the routine resumed without pause.
A rock thrown.
Not far enough.
Shoot.
A spell.
He could not dodge.
He rose.
A clash of swords.
Too slow.
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Another rock.
Too far.
Too fast.
Another impact.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Todd and Sabrina clashed blades endlessly at the edges of his vision, wood crashing, feet sliding, breaths sharp and fast. Cassian remained at the center, absorbing spell after spell, pushing himself upright every time his body failed him.
By the end of the day, Cassian was on his knees. Fire had burned him. Wind had battered him. Ice had pierced him. Water had crushed the breath from his lungs. Lightning had scorched his nerves. Stone had broken his balance again and again. And he had not asked them to stop.
“All right, this is enough,” Todd said at last. “You’re getting hit over and over. And that’s not even counting the fact that you’re enhancing both of us, using knight arts to reinforce your own body, and constantly maintaining a shield charm. Your Mana has to be empty by now.”
Cassian looked down at his hands.
That familiar, irritating sensation was there again, like faint pressure just beneath the skin. His body ached. His muscles screamed. His thoughts felt heavy, sluggish, worn thin by repetition and pain. And yet, beneath all of that, he did not feel tired. Not truly. If this were only about stamina, he could continue all night.
He straightened slowly, forcing his posture upright despite the protests of his body.
“This is nothing,” he said evenly. “But if you want to stop, we’ll continue tomorrow.”
And so they did, and it all began again.
A rock thrown.
Not far enough.
“Shoot.”
A spell.
He could not dodge.
He rose.
A clash echoed.
“Too slow” someone yelled.
Another rock.
Too fast.
Another impact.
Too far.
Another Clash.
Too slow.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Until it happened.
A fireball tore through the air toward him. Cassian saw it coming, really saw it, it wasn’t just a blur of light rapidly approaching, he could see its trajectory and how best to avoid. He moved.
Just in time.
The fireball soared where his head had been an instant earlier and exploded harmlessly behind him.
someone clapped.
“Well done, Cassian!” Sabrina said.
Todd swung his wooden sword into her raised hand, knocking it aside. “Sorry,” he muttered panicked.
As Sabrina screamed at Todd while holding her injured hand, Cassian closed his eyes. For the first time in years, there was no doubt. This was progress. Not in his spells, not in his knight arts, his magic was still poor, but his reflexes. His body. His awareness. They were getting better.
It felt good.
He opened his eyes. “Again.” He said.
And so, the loop resumed.
A rock thrown.
Too far.
“Shoot.”
A spell came.
He was hit.
Sabrina and Todd clashed swords.
Too slow.
“Again” Cassian shouted.
“Shoot.”
He dodged.
A rock thrown.
Not far enough.
Too fast.
Moments later there was a clash of swords.
Again.
Again.
Then…
A rock thrown.
“Perfect!” Todd shouted as it landed just beside the line.
“Shoot.”
He dodged.
A clash of swords.
Too slow.
A rock thrown.
Too far.
A spell.
He dodged.
Too fast.
Followed by the clash.
Another rock.
Perfect.
“Shoot.”
This time he was too slow. The spell struck him squarely. He hit the ground, rolled, pushed himself back up.
Too fast.
Another clash.
And so it went. Throughout the rest of that day. Through the next. The cycle repeated until he heard an uncomfortable sound tear out of Sabrina’s throat just as Todd’s strike knocked the sword clean from her hand.
She stared at him for half a heartbeat, then burst into a grin.
“Yes! You did it, Cassian! Yes! That was perfect! Perfect timing!”
And just like that, a new rhythm was born.
A rock thrown.
Too far.
“Shoot.”
A spell.
He dodged.
“Ugh!” Todd groaned as his blade sent Sabrina’s sword flying.
“Yes, that’s it!” Todd shouted at Cassian. “That’s it!”
Again.
A rock thrown.
Perfect.
“Shoot.”
A spell.
He was hit.
Didn’t matter. He got back up.
A clash of swords.
Too slow.
Again.
Throw.
Dodge.
Shoot.
Too fast or too slow.
Again.
And again.
Success bled into failure; failure sharpened into success. Sometimes the timing was right. Sometimes it wasn’t. Sometimes Cassian moved before his mind caught up, sometimes a fraction too late. But the rhythm held.
Then, later that day, it happened.
The perfect loop.
A rock thrown.
Perfect.
“Ah!” one of them cried as a sword was knocked free.
“Shoot!”
The spell came.
Cassian moved.
Clean. Precise. Untouched.
For a moment, none of them spoke.
Then Sabrina screamed.
Todd screamed too.
They collided with Cassian in a tangle of arms and laughter, shouting about timing, about reflexes, about how unbelievable it was.
They disbanded soon after, exhaustion finally winning out.
But Cassian knew.
It wasn’t enough.
The next day was his last before the Special Quest. His final chance.
And so the loop began again.
Throw.
Shoot.
Dodge.
Again.
And again. And again.
Still mistakes. Still misses. Still moments where he was too slow, or too fast, or just slightly off.
Until in the practice hall, a rock left Cassian’s hand.
Perfect.
“Shoot!”
The spell came late. Cassian twisted aside, the fireball scraping past his shoulder close enough to sting.
Behind him, the wooden swords collided.
A sharp yelp followed immediately as Todd’s grip failed. His sword clattered to the floor.
They reset.
This time, the clash came first. Wooden blades struck with a hollow crack.
Sabrina cried out, fingers numbing, her sword spinning away.
Cassian threw.
Perfect.
“Shoot!”
The spell came early. He ducked hard, the burst of wind tearing over his head.
Again.
A rock flew.
Perfect.
The spell came almost at once. Cassian sidestepped on instinct alone.
Wood struck wood.
A cry of pain.
A sword dropped.
Again.
“Shoot!”
Cassian moved before he even saw the spell, body reacting faster than thought.
He threw mid-motion.
Perfect.
The swords met a heartbeat later.
A yelp.
Another sword lost.
Again.
Sometimes the spell came before the throw. Sometimes the clash happened first.
Sometimes the yelp came so fast that it overlapped with the sound of the spell tearing past Cassian’s ear.
But every time:
The rock landed perfectly.
The spell was dodged.
The wooden swords struck.
One of them cried out in pain.
A sword hit the ground.
Five times.
Ten.
Twenty.
Thirty.
Cassian stopped thinking altogether. His body moved through the sequence as if it were a single motion, adapting to the disorder without hesitation, without fear.
Todd and Sabrina stared at him, breathing hard, hands stinging, wooden swords lying forgotten on the floor.
They thought he had mastered it.
Cassian knew better.
“Again,” Cassian said.
Todd stared at him. “Again? What do you mean, again? You got it! You’re perfect!”
Cassian looked at him and shook his head. “No, I’m not. These are basic spells. Their speed is nothing compared to what my cousins can do. I need to be prepared. I need to be able to dodge with such ease that even their advanced spells won’t touch me.”
Sabrina stepped in quickly. “I think you already are dodging with enough ease for that. Seriously, Cassian, you’ve got it. You’re amazing.”
He shook his head again. “Still not enough. And the day is still young. We can go for another hour. Maybe two.”
Todd groaned. “My hand hurts. And whatever you say, you have to be tired. You’ve been doing this for days without rest. The Special Quest is tomorrow.”
“Yes, I know that,” Cassian snapped, his voice sharper than he intended. “And that’s exactly why I need to train twice as hard now.”
Todd and Sabrina exchanged a look. Then they both turned back to him.
“Well,” Todd said, “you forced us into this.”
“I’m sorry, Cassian,” Sabrina added softly.
Before Cassian could respond, they both clapped their hands hard.
He blinked, confused.
The door to the training hall opened.
Timothy entered calmly, snapping his fingers. From his index finger a golden rope sprang it shot forward and wrapped itself around Cassian’s arms and torso, binding him tightly and stopping his movements at once.
“Timothy, what is the meaning of this?” Cassian demanded, struggling against the restraint.
“Your friends informed me,” Timothy said evenly, “and I quite agree with them, that you require rest.”
He clapped his hands. A maid and a butler entered immediately.
“Please carry Master Cassian to his room. Prepare a bath, a light dinner, and then, I’m thinking, an early bed is in order.”
The two servants nodded and moved at once, lifting Cassian and carrying him toward the door.
“Wait! What is this? No! Traitors! You’re all traitors! Let me go!” Cassian shouted, twisting uselessly in their grip.
“I feel really bad about this,” Sabrina said, wincing.
“Do not worry,” Timothy replied calmly. “This is for the master’s own good.”
“Yeah,” Todd added. “He was going to kill himself.”
“Still…” Sabrina groaned.
“How about dinner for our guests?” Timothy continued smoothly. “We have bean broth prepared.”
“Oh yes!” Todd said immediately.
“And for you, young lady,” Timothy added, turning to Sabrina, “we have the lamb rack you are so partial to, with plenty of mint jelly.”
Sabrina smiled despite herself. “Yeah. That sounds good.”
Cassian’s voice echoed faintly down the corridor. “I command you to let me go! This is an outrage! Betrayal!”
The three of them left the training hall together.
As they walked, Sabrina glanced back just in time to see Cassian being carried into the mansion. Seeing him like that, she realized something she had never considered before.
He was not perfect.
From afar, it was easy to think he was. His posture, his calm voice, his intelligence, the way he carried himself, all made him seem flawless. Untouchable. Up close, she saw the truth. He worked for it. Every day. Relentlessly. People would perceive him as perfect.
And Sabrina found herself wondering which was more impressive. Being born perfect, or working endlessly to become it.
