The Professor

"Through nothingness sprung life and soul. Through the void came the land: the Continent. Through the imperfection of God's creation came man: the perfect creation to solve the imbalance of the universe. Though shackled, they prevailed over the sea and the earth. They clung to the slightest sliver of hope and struggled to keep tabs with the fleeting river of time until they managed to break loose."

The scratching noises of the feather pen in my hand rose to the still air as I traced the lines of my name etched onto the scroll before me. Dark ink sunk into the beige parchment, drying way too slowly for me to wait. It was due tomorrow either way. 

Wood scraped against wood, the screeching sound breaking the deafening silence of my workspace. The weather was uniquely still, with no rain or wind pestering the closed, wood-encased, glass frames bordering the outside world. I rose from my chair, the soft cushions resurfacing. Swiftly wetting my thumb and index finger, I pinched the flickering flame of a candle on the edge of my bench, drenching it in shadows. 

Rounding the wooden bench, I stepped into the light of a dangling lantern, suspended in a hook to the side of the door out. Grabbing my cloak, which hung right beneath, I looked over my left shoulder, making sure the room was tidy and that I hadn't left anything of importance. Swinging the cloak up and over my head, I let my arms slide into their destined folds. The brown wool slipped into place, as a lock and key, cloaking my simple leather armour. 

Bending down slightly, I took hold of the sheathed sword resting against the doorframe and strapped it around my waist. With my left hand on the pommel, I fished out a pair of leather gloves from a pocket on the cloak with the right. Slipping into them, I took down the lantern and exited the room. 

Moving down the corridors of the Academy, my leather-clad feet made no noise against the thick, woollen carpet. Turning a corner, I almost bumped into a rushing servant, her nimble movements too soft for me to hear. Startling, she almost dropped the pile of neatly folded clothes weighing down her slim arms. 

"Sorry, Professor!" She exclaimed hurriedly, not daring to spare a glance at my face. 'Am I of such fright?' I pondered. Stepping to the side, I motioned for her to continue onwards. 

"Just mind your surroundings next time, and for the love of God, carry a lantern!" I scolded fatherly, even though I probably were of the same age as the maid before me. It was my position that excused me for such behaviour. 

"Yes, Sir. Sorry, Sir." 

With just the same nimble movements, she scurried down the corridor, her white clothes growing fainter and fainter as she passed outside my lantern's influence. "She would make a great assassin." I smiled, talking more to the shadows than anyone else, unless there was someone in the shadows listening. 

I turned in my direction, carrying on the long walk to the professor's dormitories. Unwillingly, my right hand slid over the pommel of my trusty sword, tensing slightly. Letting out a deep sigh, I relaxed and released the pommel. I cursed at my stupidity, though that feeling had been slithering at the back of my head for a while as if someone was lurking in the shadows around me. 

'As though anyone would dare to infiltrate the Academy, as well as stalking the Professor teaching swordplay.' My thoughts continued to race long into the night before they were suppressed by the blanket of sleep clouding my senses. 

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I awoke to banging noises on my dormitory's door. Through the thick wooden slab, between each bang, drifted the annoyed voice of my dear assistant:

"You will be late to class, Professor." 

The floor was icy cold against my feet as I dressed in a tempo hinting at my complete ignorance of my assistant. After tying the last knot in my armour, I took my sword and cloak and opened the door. 

"You are as lovely as ever, Amber." I smiled down at my assistant, her grumpy face not returning it. Holding out an arm, she stopped me from walking by. Rising to her toes, she ruffled my hair before setting off through the corridor, a small extinguish of air her only response. 

Chasing after the delicate figure, I took a small morning jog until I yet again was positioned beside her. She was reading the notes of today's class, which I had prepared the day before. Swordplay was a class exclusively for Knights, as any form of physical combat was perceived as beneath the snobby kids calling themselves Mages. 

Presumably, to maintain a sickening balance, it wasn't only Mages who awakened some sort of power. Though Mages experienced it through mana, Knights awakened a trait dubbed "A fighter's spirit" or as slang had coined: qi. Qi, unlike mana, could not express itself as an element. Instead, it heightened anything relating to physical fitness. 

For today's class, I had prepared some battlefield tactics (I had many times questioned why I was the one to teach this and not the Professor teaching warfare). As per usual, I would be giving a short walkthrough of the subject before Amber takes off and instructs the class on the actual doing part. I would then sit idly and observe, take notes and prepare a revision for the next lesson. If anything outside Amber's expertise surfaced, which happened seldom, I was to assist my assistant. 

The job as a Professor was, by these means, not so mentally or physically taxing, but only in the scope of the first- and second years. Due to the level of swordplay expected from third--, fourth-, and fifth-years, I had to step in more and more often; the fifth-years were solely taught by myself. 

Exiting the Academy's buildings, I squinted at the morning sun, stopping shortly to help my eyes adjust to the sudden increase in luminosity. Besides me, Amber did the same, even shielding her own eyes with a cloak-clad arm raised to her forehead. Before us, the school grounds expanded into a tapestry of emerald green and intertwined rainbows of colour. I still got awestruck each time I witnessed the marvel. 

Crossing the raked gravel, we passed beyond the myriad of trees, bushes and flowers to get to the battlefield. A cacophony of different noises awaited us at the field as the first years of today's class were already ready and warming up. Family crests dressed the silver metal armours of the Knights. Many different families were sending descendants who had awakened their fighter's spirit to the Academy in hopes of them returning as some prodigal hero.

Swords struck shields, armour, and enemy swords in an eerie metal orchestra, causing no one to notice Amber and me entering the stage. I gave voice to a booming shout: "Sheathe!" 

As if cutting the throat of a screeching deer, the slammer died down instantly. The soft sound of swords being sheathed followed suit before the whole class erupted in a uniform "Good morning, Sir!" 

"At ease." I made my way over to the gathered group of young, aspiring Knights. "Today's class will be revolving around battlefield tactics: how you take fights; how you assist your peers and how to decimate your opponent the swiftest and most energy efficient." I began circling the group, my height towering over the kids. Though I didn't know exactly their age, my guess was eleven to twelve summers for most of them. 

"Now, divide into two equal groups." The Knights did as I ordered, quickly parting into two equally sized cliques. "You represent two armies opposing each other. Your goal is to utterly and flawlessly destroy your opponent. How do you do that while simultaneously saving yourself as much energy as possible?" 

The question was rhetorical, which the Knights understood by me motioning for Amber to draw her sword. Unsheathing my own, we placed ourselves in between the two armies. "The easiest way to kill your enemy is to simply overpower them," I visualized it in tandem with my words by doing a downward slice towards Amber, who met it with her edge. For the pure show, Amber seemed to crumble under my non-existing pressure. 

"This, however, will not work on a battlefield," I continued, re-sheathing my sword. "Amid the carnage, you will never have the leisure to gauge your opponent's strength accurately," I emphasised the latter parts of my sentence, making sure I rigorously hammered it into the younglings. "Therefore, I advise you with all my heart and experience to always take a fight with the presumption that your strength is beneath your opponent's. With that said, find yourself a partner and start duelling. Before noon I want each pair to present their ideas of a duel minimising the energy used by the winner." 

I turned away and found myself a bench nearby, at the edge of the field. Sitting down, I received the parchment of notes Amber handed me before scurrying off to supervise the battling kids. 'It is odd to witness such unruly beings containing themselves to such a degree,' I thought as I observed the beginning stages of the duels.