The Ether-Knight's Lessons

24

"Ouch. Do you know any Class 10?" I asked him, grinning at the concept.

"I do. And no, I won't teach you. Back to the program! The final rule change is that that deals with Physical Magic. In this round, Only, you may use any and all magic your Familiars are capable of producing." He looked nervously at her indigo robe, and I hummed, interested.

"That's all the rules... you have five minutes to prepare." He bowed, and disappeared.

"You did very well, getting this far. I also appreciate you assisting me with Madeline. She's dreadful at defense, but Offensively she's as Strong as Orissa, which makes her a threat I cannot easily best." St. Clare nodded respectfully.

"And I appreciate your choice of outfits. Loving the Indigo and Yellow. Very chic." I smiled.

She smirked and played with the yellow hem, revealing accidentally a design, much like a butterfly's wings, on the inside. "Yes... I quite like it as well... good luck, in this match. I hope it's not too arrogant to say you need it."

"Not at all. Instinct and Luck are my greatest abilities. Like when I say, with no clear knowledge on the subject, that I know that robe is a Magical Parasitic Organism, and also your Familiar." I smiled.

She paused, then hummed. "Impressive... Yes, indeed. She's a Hell-Moth, from the Jungles of Madagascar. She latches onto elephants, and drinks their blood, then steals their memories, twists them, and returns them. Quite beautiful, isn't she?"

She spread the cape suddenly, and Bergen covered my eyes, then breathed flame at the coat, scorching it.

"I have not given the call for start yet, Bergen!" Glass growled over the screeching of the giant moth.

"She attacked first." Bergen growled.

"Oh? I suppose she did... Lady St. Clare, shame on you. A veteran of this competition should know better." He chided her seriously, then sighed. "But since you don't want your rest period, FIGHT!"

Bergen breathed more flames, but the moth flapped severely, flying up above us.

"Don't look at the patterns... they're Neurological Manipulation given form of lights and patterns. One look and they'll get into your brain." Bergen growled.

"Unless I scatter the light as it comes towards me." I nodded, and placed a paper-thin veneer of crystal over my eyes, like glasses. Inside them was a simple layer of water, to shake the light. It would retain focus, but any actual patterns of light would be broken.

Bergen simply closed his second set of eyelids, and Weiss rolled on the ground under him, growling at her toes.

I giggled at her, then looked at St. Clare, slowly healing her Familiar. "You know, that wasn't very nice, my dear! I thought we were connecting!"

She laughed. "Silly little girl. As if a pleb like you could possibly befriend me."

"And yep that's why you're a friendless, lonely, poisonous bitch whose many crippling insecurities are openly displayed by your choice of Familiars: A parasitic Moth that dicks with peoples memories, and slowly drains them of blood and life." I smirked.

Her enraged growl was pathetic, and amusing, but I was also getting bored, so I began to shoot my cards at her, while tossing Bergen my last Concentrated Ether shard.

He swallowed it, and then began grumbling in Dragon-Tongue, using the same sequence as Madeline had, though translated and obviously restructured to fit his preferred method of dispersal.