Chapter Eleven: Valencia

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"Weapons at the ready!" the instructor called out. A droplet of sweat ran down Valencia's forehead, a result of the blazing sun and the heavy armor she was wearing. "Ready, fight!"

She struggled to raise her sword in order to block the attack that was coming her way. She was in the middle of combat with weapons class, and she wasn't doing so great.

Her battle partner looked at her with pity, not even a slight sheen of sweat on his forehead. It was like she was making this too easy for him to win, and he was bored.

Metal clanged against metal as his sword struck her in the chest, bouncing off her protective chest plate. They both tore off their helmets, stepping forward to shake hands.

Valencia's legs wobbled as she stepped forward, exhausted. This class seemed like it would never end. Combat with weapons was far from being her forte—she could barely lift the swords that they practiced with, all of her arrows shot from bows seemed to go straight into the ground in front of her, and her spears never went further than a few feet into the distance.

The instructor blew his whistle, "Class dismissed!"

She blew out a breath of relief, grateful to be out of this stuffy armor and grateful to be able to finally leave the Arena after losing every fight so far.

Valencia returned her armor to the armor room, pushing back her damp hair from her face. Her cheeks were flushed from the activity and her breathing was labored, as if she had just run a marathon.

"Valencia!" she turned her head at the sound of her name being called, to see Tate walking towards her.

He skewered his face, "You stink."

Valencia sighed, "Thanks for that."

"Hey, at least your classes are over for the day," Tate offered.

"You're right, at least that's true," Valencia shrugged, eager to get out of the Academy. She couldn't believe that she would have to endure a whole week of sweaty combat training and mean instructors—at least healing and history were enjoyable. "Speaking of which, aren't you supposed to be in class?"

"I have a free period," Tate explained, following Valencia over to a patch of grass in the shade. They both sat down on the ground, leaning against a tall tree.

Valencia's eyes fluttered shut as she leaned back, grateful for the rest. She was once again interrupted by the sound of Tate's voice.

"So, what's new with you?" Tate used his channeling to create a bouncy-ball made of light, which he tossed in the air with a bored expression.

Valencia jokingly glared at him, "Can't a girl get some rest?"

Before Tate could answer, a shout echoed throughout the clearing, "Heads up!"

Something that vaguely resembled a football flew through the air towards them, heading straight for Valencia's head.

"Look out!" Tate shouted, backing away from the incoming object.

Valencia put her hands up in the air, protecting her face, and squinted her eyes shut, waiting for the impact. After a few seconds, Valencia peeked open her eyes after the impact never came.

In front of her, the ball was lying on the ground, seemingly blasted to pieces. The fragments that were left over were singed, as if they had been burned by something.

"Hey! My ball!" someone cried from afar. "That's no fair, how're we going to play now?"

Valencia was confused. How had the ball ended up in pieces? Tate was staring at her in a mixture of shock and awe.

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