The wolf and the gnome

Theron tucked a stray strand of hair behind his pointy ears as he and Kael made their way toward the second-year combat arena. The academy's sprawling grounds buzzed with activity, but nothing was as lively—or as intimidating—as this space. The air seemed to hum with anticipation, the faint shimmer of protective wards hinting at the intensity of what lay ahead.

Kael strode in confidently. Theron followed a step behind, his expression cautious. Combat wasn't exactly his strong suit—he preferred machines, calculations, and the comfort of problem-solving over swinging fists or weapons.

Kael, however, was in his element. He stretched lazily, his grin widening as he scanned the arena. "Finally," he said. "This is where the real fun happens. Not like that snooze-fest they call history class."

"Because memorizing dates is clearly beneath the future Lycan king," Theron muttered, adjusting his bag.

Kael ruffled his hair. "Exactly. Now, try to keep up, short stuff."

Theron rolled his eyes but smiled faintly as they moved toward the center of the arena. Training dummies hovered midair, enchanted targets shifted unpredictably, and the faint smell of burnt ozone lingered—evidence of previous magical clashes.

Their friends arrived shortly after: Bronn, adjusting his ever-present gloves, his crimson eyes scanning the room. The gloves never came off, and despite Theron's best guesses, the vampire's reasoning remained a mystery.

Aelric practically buzzed with excitement, his iridescent wings fluttering. "This is going to be so good," he said, his grin wide.

Theron suppressed a groan. Aelric was notorious in combat class—not for brute strength, but for his infuriating strategy of running, sneaking, and targeting the most humiliating weak points. Crotches, tails, sensitive ears, and even exposed toes were all fair game. His victims often walked—or limped—away from the spar with bruised egos more than bruised bodies.

The fairy's uncanny knack for taking down opponents with a well-placed strikes had earned him a spot on the infamous "list of people to avoid." .

Kael's fighting style wasn't particularly technical, but it was terrifyingly effective. He didn't just overpower his opponents—he toyed with them. His strength and speed, courtesy of his Lycan heritage, gave him an edge, but it was his sheer audacity that made him infamous. Kael had a way of making every spar feel personal. He would taunt, tease, and frustrate his opponents until they made a mistake.

Before anyone could comment further, the sharp clatter of hooves echoed across the arena.

"Attention!" barked Commander Vyran, a towering centaur with a deep scar running across his face. His presence silenced the room as he paced in front of the students. "Welcome back to combat training, you bunch of rascals. If you think the break was an excuse to slack off, you're sorely mistaken." His sharp eyes swept over them. "Today, we'll be pairing up for sparring."

Kael leaned toward Theron, whispering, "Who do you think will be unlucky enough to pair with Aelric?"

Theron smirked. "As long as it's not me, I'm fine."

Commander Vyran clapped his hands, and a shimmering board appeared in the air, names arranging themselves into pairs. The students crowded around to see their fate.

Kael scanned the list quickly. "Oh, this is going to be good."

Theron squinted He saw Kael's name. Paired with… Aelric.

Theron blinked, then stifled a laugh. "Well, good luck with that."

Kael smirked, unbothered. "Please. He won't even get close enough to try his sneaky tricks."

Theron raised a brow. "You do realize Aelric fights like a caffeinated squirrel with a vendetta, right? You'll be lucky if he doesn't dive-bomb you into submission"

"Perfect," Kael drawled, leaning closer to Theron with a mischievous grin. "It's like the universe knows I need a good warm-up

The first match began with other pairs sparring. Bronn, paired with Lirien, moved with terrifying precision. His vampiric speed combined with strategic strikes made him a force to be reckoned with. He dodged Lirien's arrows effortlessly, closing the distance and disarming her with a single, fluid motion.

When it was Kael and Aelric's turn, the entire class seemed to perk up.

"This is going to be interesting," Lirien murmured, her sharp eyes focused on the ring.

Aelric fluttered into the arena, his wings twitching with anticipation. Kael followed, rolling his shoulders and cracking his knuckles.

Aelric bounced around the ring, his wings fluttering like a hummingbird's. "Ready to lose, Your Highness?"

Kael smirked, rolling his shoulders. "Bring it, Tinkerbell

The commander's voice boomed. "No powers, no transformations. Begin!"

Aelric darted forward, his movements almost a blur. Kael stood still, waiting.

And then, with a flick of his wrist, Aelric sent a flurry of small projectiles—stones he'd snatched from the ground—toward Kael's face.

Kael dodged effortlessly. "Is that all you've got?"

Aelric didn't answer. He zipped around Kael, a blur of motion, looking for an opening.

Kael growled, swiping at the air as Aelric zipped around him. The crowd laughed as the fairy's antics grew more absurd.

"Stand still, you pest!" Kael roared, lunging again.

Aelric ducked and spun, delivering a light but humiliating slap to Kael's backside. "Gotcha!"

The arena erupted in laughter.

Theron shook his head, muttering, "Classic Aelric."

Kael waited, his eyes tracking the fairy's every move. And then, when Aelric lunged, aiming for what was undoubtedly another humiliating weak point, Kael caught him mid-air.

The class erupted in laughter and cheers as Kael held Aelric aloft, one-handed, like a cat who'd just caught a mouse and gave him a smack on the butt in retaliation.

"Paybacks a bitch" Kael said, grinning.

"Put me down you oversized wolf" Aelric declared while flailing his arms in exasperation.

The crowd cheered as Kael carried Aelric out of the ring, their banter continuing as they exited the ring