A not so silent night

Months passed by rather fast. The classes of their Greek teacher were the most fun. He had interesting topics and discussions and talked about them in an open relaxed manner.

Most of the students respected him despite his lack of magic. A man's worth was not decided by the strength of their magic, but by the weight of their achievements. A lesson many of the children would remember when they grew up.

Only the Math lessons were rather boring for Vincent, At the beginning, he used his knowledge to show of, jet he stopped after a few weeks. The teacher would not let him talk any more, so he spend his time either chatting with his new dark haired friend, who's name he still had not figured out.

He even refused to tell the teacher, a strange gesture. Probably had something to do with the culture he was born in.

Mencía actually managed to teach them something useful. She separated the class into those she deemed had talent in close combat and the rest, Vincent included.

The one half she showed techniques and tricks with the wooden weapons, the other half received survival training, knowledge about tracking and hiding.

The one lesson everyone learned by heart however, was that no matter how good you dodged. No matter how fast you were, and no matter if you saw it coming. Those damn balls would still be slammed right into your face...

Their African trainer was not better however, as he pitted them against all kinds of wild animals and monsters he found who knows where. It reminded them of the arena. It was the class Vincent improved on the most.

He was quick on the uptake and figured out the knack to use those strings relatively fast. They were a good idea.

Vincent did a small prayer to whatever was up there, that Wilhelm had not taken up the teachers suggestion. Otherwise who knew where and when giant steel arrows were to rain upon him - He still had a trauma from Anor Londor.

~

The air was stiff and unpleasant, heated from the summer sun. Vincent laid in his bed full awakened, only the moonlight providing a sparse form of light.

He had long since thrown the thin sheet of line to the ground, a useless attempt to cool him of.

In his hands, a small slip of paper, filled to the brim with orderly precise writing. It was not written by feather who were uncommon in the empire, instead Arminius used a metal pen.

* My brother, I have looked into that child from your class.

He is the third son of Sulla, representing a neutral faction in the senate. There is no animosity among us, jet the situation as you narrated had a strange tinge to it.

After digging deeper we have come to the conclusion that his actions do not quite correlate to his standing, and an attempt on your life is rather likely.

The headmaster is mighty, and the senate can not move against him and the emperor, so they will not send their privet troops. Take precaution against your classmate and once outside the campus.

May the gods be with you.*

'Should I kill him first, a bit of poison or the bite of an ill rat?' His thoughts spiralled as he tried to sleep.

Then, steps. Vincent's eyes snapped open, full awaken.

A man stood in front of his room, his black garb covering his face in a vein attempt to cloak it. Vincent's mana sense identified him as a sixteen year old student from the upper classes. His hands were empty, jet it did not say much for a mage.

'Should I get rid of him?'

Before he could make a decision, the lock slowly gild open, pushed by magic. He closed his eyes.

Were they the assailants his brother spoke of? But they were so unprofessional. And the headmaster would surly notice.

'Maybe, there are more than one of them. Maybe they were targeting other students too?'

ioIn a moment of heroic sacrifice, Vincent remained motionless to find it out. His curiosity had to be quenched. And other kidnapped students had to be saved, obviously.

The hooded figure traded on the ground, careful. Still his steps were loud.

A blue sheen covered The assailants hand, as he pressed it against Vincent's throat. The night was to dark to see the metal that had already covered the vulnerable spot. The scientist would talked no chances.

"Scream, and I will end your miserable life this very moment."

The voice was rough and dramatic, the speaker tried his best to hide his identity and age.

Vincent only got up in silent and compiled. He was lead outside, trough the campus in the depth of the night.

An owl fluttered its wings and silently followed them. Somewhere far away the earth shook.

Both were walking with quiet steps, Vincent moved not a muscle to resist. He did not need to.

A small, almost invisible, strand of metal crept up the dark figure, entering the cloths and stopping at his neck.

When it touched the spine, Vincent immediately send a plus of magic through it, cutting away any nerves that connected to the skin.

He send more steel into the wire, enlarging it, and made them penetrate into the flesh, anchoring themselves with small hooks.

At least he took control of the neck, making him able to kill the man with but a thought.

It was not easy to affect the body of another person with your own magic. A water spell could not drain one of all fluids from far away. Mages called it the interference of the self, a natural interference against spells growing stronger with the mind of the caster.

There were ways to circumvent it however. Touch was one method, ramming an intermediate in the flesh of your opponent another.

The robed student, not noticing anything, continued dragging him away. Outside the open campus and through the streets of Rome.

At the end they arrived at multiple story apartment that looked exactly like the thousands of others found throughout the city.

The door creaked as the tensed muscles of the hooded figure relaxed. He was safe.

A small chuckle reached his ears, jet he only ignored the noise and traded a worn staircases down into the cellar.

With a bang the door closed and the fate of all inside was seald.