Sterling lunged forward, his burning blade sweeping through the air before him. It left a falling curtain of blazing fire behind it, like an afterimage. Dalliance cast [Gust] with his outstretched hand, trying to blow the flames back toward his opponent, even as the first gout of flaming magic struck the floor, burning argent and unreal.

  The wind kicked up before his hand, strong as if he were putting a hand out the window of a speeding cart, but the burning magic passed through the spell, barely deflected. It wasn't strong enough. Sterling swept his blade again, spreading more fire, and Dalliance could see via [Prediction] that, without interruption, his plan was just to keep his distance, engulf the field in fire, and then pick off Dalliance when there was nowhere safe left to stand but right in the path of the blade.

  That wouldn't do.

  The effort of adjusting the power of the spell came at the cost of Dalliance's mana redoubling, and then re-doubling again, as he strained to make it flow harder: anything to get the fire that much further away from him, ether jar currently unused in his bad hand, nearly forgotten. Wafting a scent towards someone and the gale he was trying to kick up now were different functions.

  It wasn't extremely hot as fires went. He knew Circe had been able to heal all of them in the aftermath the first time, with the serpent, despite the burns. And having a little more context and a little bit better grasp on how limited her mana pool was, he knew the burns had indeed had to have been minor. It was a spell meant to shock and distract, not necessarily one that would kill, or even spread to threaten bystanders.

  And it was doing its job. He did not want that flame to touch him. The memories were bad enough.

  Sterling closed the distance, slinging an arc of fire to cut off Dalliance's left, then darting along from his right. He brought his blade down in a vicious slash, fluid fire following the arc and pattering to the floor.

  Dalliance could have stayed put, and dodged in place, but he'd only end up on the back foot if he did that. So, without anything better to do, he drew his sword to parry, and stepped forward. He wasn't fast enough for a full draw, even right handed, for a strike in-progress, but it didn't matter. He allowed the blade to come up out of its sheath in a sudden jerk, dropping his hand down to hold the blade itself and batting away Sterling's strike with the guard and hilt. The impact jarred his fingers, but the blow was deflected, Sterling taking a swift step backwards from the new threat of a bared blade.

  Dalliance put down the jar quickly and kicked it away across the floor, hoping that if its time hadn't come yet, it would at least be safe. He needed two hands.

  For his part, Sterling didn't seem interested in going after the jar. His future selves seemed focused on lowering Dalliance's options, spreading more fire with each swing.

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  Narrowing the futures towards one.

  [Gust] drank his mana greedily as he gathered up a bunch of the fire and then, with a force of effort that made his knees weak and his arms feel heavy, repulsed it back toward Sterling. Two could play that game.

  Sterling hopped over the flames, landing within sword's length of Dalliance, and then there wasn't time for posturing, as Dalliance stepped forward to trap his blade. There was a quick exchange of blows, two swords in physical contact eache being too close to use properly, strong of blade grinding against strong of blade. Sterling tried to punch him in the face, even as Dalliance ducked. Tried to disengage, but Dalliance stepped with the disengagement, the two of them pirouetting around a common center like dancers. Sterling threw a shoulder block. Dalliance sidestepped and kicked him in the instep, allowing a limping Sterling to finally get room to swipe again.

  Dalliance deflected the fire with another gust, but it had taken up enough of the arena to block off most of his options. And Sterling's. They were at the endgame now, for better or worse. He retreated back toward where he'd started.

  Sterling triumphantly limped forward, washing the floor behind him with fire to cut off any escape.

  Dalliance breathed out a bank of fog with what little focus he could divide, dropping [Gust] entirely.

  Sterling laughed, striding forward through the harmless mist. "Really?"

  Dalliance kicked the jar of ether into the fog.

  As it tumbled through the air, he saw its contents trail out, glittering and clear like water, but fizzing as they went. When it struck the floor and shattered, the chemical cloud exploded outward into Sterling's path.

  Flaming liquid splashed down, mostly in an arc across the floor, some following the spirals of the shattered jar in a spray of droplets. The ether ignited where it met the flames, the fog flaring golden and red from within.

  Sterling howled in agony, then his voice grew confused, bewildered. His sword clattered to the ground. He stumbled forward out of the fog and collapsed face-first on the floor, still burning.

  Dalliance fell to his knees, woozily gasping. His head swam. The ether had gotten him, too, whether an errant droplet or just proximity.

  "Enough," said Miss Tempest.

  The flames vanished. The ward hummed, neutralizing the burning and the poison both. Sterling lay unconscious.

  "We have our victor," she announced. "But no more ether in class."

  "But I think I could do better with it with some practice," Dalliance protested, still on his knees.

  "Oh, I have no doubt you could," she said. "And you will. Don't worry. For the midterm and the finals, all item restrictions are raised. It's just that this isn't a class about using ether in combat."

  "This is a class about using your wind magic spells as well as possible in combat. About tactics. Item use. But should any one tactic prove itself to be a master of the field, however pyrrhic that victory, I shall remove it from the field until everyone else has made some progress. It's only fair. Since you came up with one good idea, if I let you specialize in that product of that one good idea, where would be your motivation to come up with a second one? No, ether is out till the midterm. But well done, Dalliance, even if these are not practical tactics for use in the real world. Far too easy to poison own's allies."

  She paused, watching him struggle to his feet.

  "In any case, if you're feeling well enough to argue the point, then you're clearly up to your third challenger."