The Fist smashed into the wooden beam behind him as he ducked to the left, falling over a stone statue of a sphinx in the darkened room lite by electric lamps. The assailant reared back his hand, grunting in pain as a foot kicked out at his shin, reducing him to the ground. The young man who kicked him tumbled backwards and grabbed a staff from a rack of weapons. He stood at the ready as the attacker stood up again, his tight fitting leather pants and puffy renaissance shirt adorned him with a regal, threatening look. He took a few steps towards the man and the light of a single lamp. <o:p> </o:p> “That’s Enough Darius.” The man said, rubbing the soreness out of his hand. The master spoke, and the student obeyed. “You NEVER pick up a weapon master Lorenzo.” He said, slicking back his hair and putting the wooden staff back on the rack. “That’s because you’re not ready to pick one up yourself. You haven’t mastered yourself, how can you master a weapon?” he said simply, roughing up the kids hair and exiting the room with him. What met them was a large fencing chamber with stone walls housing about eighteen different groups of people fighting in full gear. Their blades swished through eh dank cellar room air with deft speed and ample grace. The boy smiled. <o:p> </o:p> “You’re right… I am not ready…Yet… But soon master, soon.” He said, walking up the stairs and putting on the coat Lorenzo threw to him. He grabbed his backpack from the coat-rack and exited the back door of the sprawling mansion just half a mile north of town in the forest. He climbed on his bike and started off into town <o:p> </o:p> The school was full of people by the time he got there, the hoodie on his leather jacket covering his face. The story was, that Jack here had a rare blood disease preventing him from over exposure to sunlight and vitamin A. he was a bit pale for his European descent, and everything added up on the doctor’s bills. He entered the school and went to his locker. The regular laughter and chortling of the hallway was cut short by the first hour five minute warning bell. His biker boots, steel toes with hard leather, were the only really nice thing he had. His coven at the mansion had given them to him, and he was due for his initiation soon. <o:p> </o:p> He made his way to first hour slowly.