Junior Sorceress Melisa Blackflame, Part Twelve
{Armia}
Armia wiped the sweat from her brow, panting slightly as she lowered her hand. She and Isabella had been practicing their spell parries for the better part of an hour, and while she was grateful for the chance to hone her skills, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of frustration.
To her own surprise, it wasn't Isabella making this training unbearable. No, as much as she would absolutely NEVER admit this aloud, Isabella's "quirks" were starting to grow on the darian.
No, what bothered Armia the most right now was the constant interruptions, the way other students seemed to gravitate towards them like moths to a flame.
Case in point: the tall, raven-haired girl from another classroom currently sauntering across the arena floor, a smug smile on her face and a glint of challenge in her eye. With everything going on in Armia's life, everything she'd had to train and study for, she hadn't made any effort to research the other classes.