Dismissal

He picked up his staff, a long crack running through its center from the attack by the other sorcerer.

She had been unexpected.

As he turned and walked away from the crowd, his students followed closely behind.

Nobody beat Zahn. Nobody.

He held his head high.

He had lost, nearly died; there was no way around it. But in his mind, he convinced himself that he’d won.

He’d driven her out of the city, after all.

They approached the square, and Zahn turned and regarded his followers.

This was the perfect time for a display.

Immediately, his students lined up for inspection. He walked down the line, then stepped away, walking out into the square.

“Albion!”

Albion stepped forward, holding out his wand, hand shaking, preparing to fight; they all knew what was coming next. 

Zahn held out his staff and sent a jolt of power in Albion’s direction; more, he knew, than the boy could handle.

Instantly, Albion fell to the ground, his wand in ruin. 

“Caden!”

This young man flew ten feet through the air and landed with a crack atop the cobblestones.

“Finn!”

Another down.

“Seamus!”

Another.

Finally, after seven of the eight lay on the ground, he turned to face the red-haired woman.

This time, when he sent a bolt from the staff, it hit hers midair, stopped by her power. He gritted his teeth, then took a step closer. Then, another. Finally, his bolt was only a foot away from hers.

He pushed her to the ground, their connection broken. His power slashed through the robes on her back, burning her with two long bolts of fire. The place where his curse had been seared into her skin smoked like dying embers.

He would not let her be healed.

He smiled.

All was not lost.

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