Page 71 of Gift from the Tree

“First years, I’m Professor Claven and I’ll be your combat class instructor. Whatever the reason you’re in this class, it doesn’t matter. I’ll hear no excuses and tolerate no slacking off. I was an E.F. team member for ten years. I know what’s expected and what needs to be done for you to protect yourselves. Every class, you’ll meet me in the training fields after you’ve changed. Don’t miss my class and don’t be late. Let’s go.”

We all follow him out of the gym to the training yards and it looks like the class is a mixture of every grade. I don’t understand how training will go between this big of a difference in skill sets, but I guess I’ll find out.

Professor Claven moves to stand on a large mat that’s sitting in the field, with a clipboard in hand. “Today, we’re going to have a mixed level sparing match so we can test what level you’re on. Just because you’re a first year doesn’t mean you can’t kick a fourth year’s ass. When I call your names, step up and take position. I’ll pair a few second, third, and fourth years first before mixing the first years in so you get an idea of what to do. No elements or gifts, just hand-to-hand. First up, Draken and Jull.”

“Everything will be okay. Don’t worry about me.” Draken gives my arm a squeeze, leaning his head down to whisper before making his way over to the mat.

I don’t know who I expected to step up there, but it sure as fuck wasn’t this guy. Jull’s the same height as Draken but has the biggest muscles I’ve ever seen on someone. He looks like he was chiseled straight from stone and probably close to twice Draken’s width. Draken isn’t small by any means, but the physical difference between them is clear and my heart pounds in fear about Draken sparring with this behemoth of a guy.

Professor Claven blows his whistle and the two of them begin circling each other. When they finally collide, I swear I feel the ground shake. Draken lands hit after hit and dodges every swing Jull gives out.

Damn, he’s fast. And so fine.

Not the time to be turned on by his body.

Draken delivers a series of hits back-to-back, sending Jull to his ass, and when he hits the ground, it sounds like thunder booming through the sky. Damn, I guess there wasn’t anything to worry about. I hope my match is that fast and it’s not me on the ground.

Jull shakes his head out and sits up as Draken offers him his hand and pulls him to his feet. Draken and Professor Claven share a look that to me says intense dislike before he pats Jull’s back and jogs to me. When he stands beside me, I glance up to see Claven looking at me with interest. Fuck me. If he hates Draken, I’ve just been filed in that category as well.

Name after name is called and the matches continue. Some over as fast as Draken’s, some Professor Claven blows the whistle and calls time on. Crazy bitch Gima won her match against a first-year girl and instead of giving her a hand up like everyone else has been doing, she laughed and called her a loser as she walked off the mat. Fucking cunt that one.

“Vander and Willow,” Claven yells out.

Fuck, my stomach drops to my feet as I see the guy who’s standing by queen bee herself bend down so she can whisper in his ear. When he pulls back, walking to the mat, she shoots me a sadistic smile.

“Now, Willow,” Professor Claven bellows, making me jump a little as I take my first step.

“No, are you fucking kidding me? Vander’s a fourth year and double her size,” a pissed off Draken yells, stomping behind me.

“It’s a random selection and hand-to-hand only. I won’t let it go too far.” Professor Claven delivers unconvincingly, sneering at Draken before looking at me. “On the mat now.”

Draken goes to step ahead of me again, but I grab ahold of his arm and pull him back. “I’ll be okay. I’m smaller than him, so I’ll maneuver around him as much as possible, and if I can’t, well, I’ve taken plenty of hits before.” I give him one last squeeze, not daring to look back at him as I step onto the mat.

“Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you too bad, first year,” Vander mouths off with a cocky smile on his lips.

“Thanks,” I say in a dry tone, not appreciating him already counting me out before we even start. Granted, I’m nervous as fuck. Dude’s huge. Well, every guy is huge compared to me, and I know fuck all nothing about what to do right now.

“Positions,” Claven yells, then blows his whistle.

Vander charges at me like he’s going to football tackle my ass, so I move out of the way at the last second, turning and kicking out at his knee, something Tillman just taught me this morning.

Huh, look at that. The ruthless dictator did teach me something.

He’s only down for a second before he’s on his feet, delivering a series of punches. Pulling my hands up to cover my face to block any blows to my head, I leave my stomach exposed and he lands a solid punch straight to my gut, knocking the wind out of me. That moment of distraction cost me as he lands another hit right to my jaw and I stumble back multiple steps.

His cockiness gets the best of him as he strolls up to me like this is all fun and games to him, so I quit rubbing my jaw, ball my fist up, and hit him straight in the nose. He takes a step back, shaking his head out as blood starts to pour from it.

I keep coming with my punches, like a completely untrained, fucking wild woman. I feel the impact of a few blows as my fists collide with flesh, but the searing pain of my splitting knuckles is a mere fucking tap compared to the relentless onslaught of hits he’s landing on my body.

Suddenly, he grabs my fist mid-swing, spins me around, and puts me in a chokehold. My feet dangle off the ground, and I scratch his arms, trying to get him to loosen his grip so I can breathe. I’m on the verge of passing out, so I frantically tap his arm, the universal sign of tapping out, but he only tightens his grip.

I can hear Draken bellowing from the sidelines and when I look out the corner of my eye, he’s literally fighting off a swarm of classmates, all of them continuously hitting him with their elements as he fights with both his fist and fire.

Fuck, he isn’t going to let me go until I pass out and apparently, no one’s going to break this up. Leaning my head forward as far as I can, I slam it back into his nose, knowing it’s already fucked from my punch. His grip loosens a fraction, and I raise my knee up and slam the bottom of my foot into his balls. He instantly drops me, and I land on all fours, trying to catch my breath and shake the dark spots that are forming in front of my eyes.

“WILLOW,” Draken roars, catching my attention, but it’s too late. Vander’s foot’s heading straight for my face.

I hear the crack in my nose, and pain travels through my whole body as my head slams down on the mat, making my vision double. Turning my head slightly, Draken’s still being restrained, fighting through people to get to me, threatening to kill them all as Professor Claven stands there with his arms crossed, watching this go down. I look back just in time to see Vander pull his fist back, preparing to knock me out, when I notice his hand is covered in what looks like stone.

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