Dragon's Spell

Chapter Two

Billy did not know what to think. Bartholomew had been a trusted friend, who had promised only to teach him magical abilities he deemed useful, and defineitly something that Billy would be able to use in most scenarios. "Bart, are you sure that this is something I need to know?" Billy asked, rather silently, not wanting to disturb Bartholomew as he fiddled around in his right trouser pocket, searching for his house key. "Of course, William. I only teach what needs to be learnt!"

"Please, just call me Billy. I don't like William. It sounds too... old." Billy answered, as his friend soon found his key. As soon as they entered Bartholomew's house, the old man changed into the young teacher, that Billy spent most of his afternoons with, learning how to endear in the world of magic. "Please, take off your shoes and meet me in living room." Bartholomew said. He clicked his fingers, and whispered "Allok Ghallen." His shoes disappeared from his feet and were placed below the coat rack, which hanged limply from the pale wall. As Billy took off his right shoe, he asked "Why don't you teach me that instead of this silly 'you might use it' spell. Being able to take my shoes off at the sound of a click would be really helpful at home. That way, my mum won't moan at me for 'pretending' these shoes are way to small to 'stop doing my homework'. Heck, that teleportation spell could help me from being late to school- do you know how long a detention they give you for being five seconds late? It is ridiculous." Billy knew that Bartholomew had passed into the living room while he was talking, but still thought that he would be better off finding out about stuff that he could use quite commonly.

"Fine, I suppose we could do it your way. " Billy murmured as he walked into the living room.  The living room was a duplicate of a Victorian classroom, minus all the desks. While many would say this would be pointless, Billy appreciated having the room look like this, as it had a charm that made his lessons all the more enjoyable for him. Bartholomew was already at the front of the room, in front of a blackboard. He picked up a piece of chalk, and quickly turned around. He wrote on the board, a squeek being heard after every mark was made. He moved away from the board, so Billy could see what he had wrote. It said "Battle". Bartholomew read the word off the blackboard. "Now, this is an intriging subject, and I have a smashing way for you to learn it." he continued.

"So, my good lad, please may you conjure fire." Bartholomew requested. Billy cupped his hand together and said "Rie Sol." While doing so, Billy concentrated on hot things. Eventually, he began to feel scorching. Out of nowhere, a small red flame appeared in Billy's hand. "Now what?"

"Place it on the floor; right in between us."  Bartholomew answered. Billy was extremely confused. Why would Bartholomew want him to do that? Did he want him to burn his house to cinders? Maybe was always crazy, and Billy had been completely fooled by an act. But then, how could he make the flame? Billy decided to ignore common sense, something that he had always been told not to do. Whatever Bartholomew wanted Billy to do, he would do it. If it resulted in the house burning, it would be on Bartholomew's shoulders, not Billy's.

Billy placed the flame on  the smooth floor. Billy and Bartholomew glared at the blazing fire. It was spectacular and beautiful. Billy soon became overfilled with pride. This had been the first time that he had successfully conjured a flame without any further assistance from Bartholomew.

As Billy watched the flame flicker, Bartholomew started to walk around it in circles. "That was a great display of magic. You must be so proud." When he found himself next to Billy, Bartholomew inhaled and then blew out the flame. Billy was shocked. The effort that it took for Billy to create it fueled his pride; but soon enough, it began to fuel his rage. "Are you mad? Come on, Billy. Try to take me down!" Bartholomew chuckled.

Billy pulled back his left arm and throw it right into the centre of Bartholomew's face. His fist ricocheted. Bartholomew then called out "Koa Zai!" Billy had never heard of this spell before. It was something completely different to all the other magic he had learnt. Visibly, nothing had changed. That's what scared him.

Bartholomew leaped at his student, using a combination of spells and basic martial arts to start beating him. Billy had been punched at least twenty times in the last two seconds. When Billy tried to retaliate, none of his hits would work, neither would his spells. Billy started to think. What could that first spell have done? Made him invincible? Was it a real life cheat code? Or did it 'open' something. That's when Billy realised what he was meant to be learning.

"Koa Zai!" Billy yelled, clenching his fists.

An aura covered him, and he could see Bartholomew with an identical aura, but it was a different colour. "End." Bartholomew said, ending his spell, with Billy following suit. "What was that, Bart?" Billy asked. "The Battle Spell. Koa Zai opens up a 'pocket dimension' and places you in it. It powers you up, slightly, and when another person enters, you can sense their aura. The colours of the aura distinguishes what alligence othe people have. If it's the same as you, your both on the same. If not, your enemies. Another nifty thing is, the pocket dimension gives all your spells homing properties, so say if you summon fireballs, they'll instantly go against whoever you are targeting. Now, let's practice some more."

****

After he mastered the spell, Billy started heading home. His fringe was damp, due to the cheap shot that Bartholomew had thrown his way with his 'mini thunder cloud of doom'. When Billy started sneezing during the battle, they decided to call it a day. As he crossed the street, Billy bumped into someone. "Uh, sorry. Can I help you?" Billy asked.

"I'm looking for a Bartholomew Dreary. Do you know where he lives?" the stranger replied.

"Right over there. Uh... good day." Billy said, slinking away, as the stranger strolled to Bartholomew's house. Instead of going home, Billy decided to to check what the stranger wanted with Bartholomew. He snuck into his mentor's house. When he arrived in the corrider by the living room, Billy heard a conversation.

"Hello." the man called.

"What do you want?!" asked Bartholomew, quickly shifting into his elderly persona.

"No need to transform, Barty." Billy was confused. Bartholomew had told him that almost everyone called him by his full name, but two. One was Billy, who called him 'Bart', and the other called him Barty and that was...

"Brother, you must get that boy taught quicker." Now Billy was baffled. Was this man Bartholomew's brother? Did he give Bartholomew tasks to complete? And for what reason? Billy often asked where and how Bartholomew planned his lessons; could it all be tied to this one man?

As the hours passed, Billy fell to sleep, almost too often. When ever he woke up, he was worried that he could of been discovered. However, it didn't happen. After his latest wake-up, the talk between Bartholomew and his brother had ended, and the brother was not even in the house. Billy had learnt nothing of his teacher, other than his brother wanted him to teach Billy faster. What part would Billy play in the future? He would ask his 'friend' tomorrow. Billy let himself out, as the front door was not locked. He was glad that he was not discovered by either party of the conversation.

Everything about Bartholomew was blurry.

Bartholomew sat in a chair and stared out of his window. He was surprised to see Billy walk past it.