left for dead hunter

The fights continued, but they were becoming more and more drawn out. The weakest combatants had all been culled in the first three rounds, and now the remaining warriors were going at it with everything they had. Eventually, Noah’s first target entered the arena. He was a young man, spirited and garbed in plate mail, having won his fights with hard-won determination and effort. His name was Falco. Noah followed him outside, the warrior unaware of his presence. On the other end of the ring, his opponent arrived, another man, a few inches taller and years older, wearing dark clothes and an amused smirk upon seeing Falco. Both were brawlers, entering the ring without weapons.

Once he had been reduced to kindling, Noah pulled him out of the resulting puddle and stabbed him with the second tool, a metal spike wrapping him in smokeless fire. The magic flames worked quickly, reducing him and his clothes to ash in less than a minute. Minus his metal belt buckle and a few shards of bone, all of the trace evidence was removed, and Noah swept the remains into the broom closet. No one would ever know what happened to Reiss, but at least his killer suffered for what he did.

Mrs. B. was very different, though. Our class only met once a week, but there were times when she and I would cross paths in the course of a day. I noticed that either she must have changed her path to avoid me or averted her gaze when we did cross paths. She did not appear to be her usual ebullient self. She was noticeably absent from her office during times I would usually drop in to say hello. I guessed the experience was not the life changing event for her as it was for me.