While everyone was gushing over that prissy, frilly Athena Academy shit, Mika had made other plans. His step-mother had inquired about the aforementioned academy, probably hoping he would want to attend, but the Drakonya Krov had no interest in surrounding himself with more people than usual. People he did not (care to) know. People with chipper demeanors. People who probably thought they were better than him. People who spoke languages he would not even bother to dream of learning. Just the thought of it had frustrated him, and instead of trying to appease her, he shoved a flyer that displayed a dueling facility in her face. Though she appeared a little concerned, she must have been at least somewhat pleased and surprised that Mika was expressing interest in something, as only a day after, she informed him that he could go.
The month of June then became a month of intense training; as soon as Mika arrived, he learned that the facility was an extremely strict one. They were split up by age and given rigorous courses to complete. They had to practice spells, recite the rules of duelling, and they were worked physically just as much as they were worked mentally. It was exhausting but for once Mika felt like he was doing well at something. He liked duelling.
Now, it was officially time to put everything together. They were being randomly split into pairs by their instructor, and Mika couldn’t wait to begin his first fight. The boy cracked his knuckles, stood up, and walked forward once his name was spoken. With a roll of the shoulders and a turn of the head, he smirked, his confidence surging. The last month of training and being tested had managed to improve his physique a little; the muscles that he had were more defined, and he appeared slightly larger than he was the previous year. To some, he could have looked imposing. With his hands now resting at his sides, the right one pressed against the pocket where his wand rested, he waited for his opponent’s name to be called.
He almost choked when it was a girl’s name that rose in the air – and one he knew. Liesel Schmidt. The boy glanced at their instructor incredulously, for this has to be a joke. The pensive expression he wore said otherwise, however, and Mika’s jaw clenched, then his fists. Liesel, admittedly was talented, but Mika did not believe they were on the same level. He was expecting a challenge. What did his instructor think of him if he paired him with an average girl? The blow at his confidence made his stomach bubble with a growing anger. Stepping just a centimetre closer to the girl, he gave a slight incline of the head, then muttered through gritted teeth, “I can’t believe I have to duel the troll.”
