Wilbur

Wilbur's armour mended itself and so did his shield. The various dents and holes that spoke of previous battle gave way to make it seem to any casual viewer, that time itself was reversing.

Sir Triston clicked his tongue, "You have seen war Glidron, you should know. You must learn to mend faster for your opponents won't give you enough time mid battle. In fact it will work to their advantage by proving as a self imposed distraction."

Wilbur bowed his head as his visor creaked to repair itself, "Apologies Sir. It seems I still lack practice."

"Practice alone will not achieve things. It should be in the right direction to work." His left hand moved behind his back and right provoked, "Come."

Sir Florent knew better this time than to stay on one place. He moved swiftly in a zigzag pattern and his sword clanged against the hard stone on Sir Triston's right. Carter Hill tried to do the same from behind, only faster. He was proud of his footwork after all, that's what he relied on the most. And that is what Sir Triston chose to steal. The ground beneath his feet started moving into random patterns, making Carter fumble and fail as he looked for a firmer foothold.

Seeing the very topography of the earth change Wilbur realised that if he actually battled them in earnest, they would have been long dead. Nonetheless, he had to try; otherwise the training was for naught.

Wilbur flexed his sword arm and threw the blade at Sir Triston as if it was a knife. The sword caught momentum in mid flight as a white glow engulfed it. Sir Triston caught it with his right hand. His hand shifted till the hilt finally lay in his palm. The Gladinstone blade still glowed white, but however much Wilbur tried, he couldn't summon it back. Sir Triston swung the same arm, and cut Sir Florent's shield in two with a single stroke of his newly acquired Gladinstone blade. His left hand was still behind his back.

Sir Florent was left with no choice but to fall back, and as he did, his leg slipped on a newly formed cavity behind him. A stone blanket engulfed him as he fell. It had been less than three seconds and only Wilbur was left standing. He felt his gauntlet and vambrace vibrate as he materialised a stone sword in his hand. When the process completed, he charged.

Sir Triston faced him with the same placid expression he always held. Wilbur's Gladinstone blade met his new stone sword and locked for an instant. Sir Triston smiled, "Learning, are we?" on noticing how Wilbur's new stone blade had shifted to coil itself around the Gladinstone. Letting go of the blade Sir Triston moved his left for the first time in their training. Wilbur raised his shield reflexively as he noted the stone armour the left hand had. The force was enough to throw him back. He tried to duck behind but fell.

It was the searing pain in his legs that told him what had caused the fall. His feet were chained to the ground; Sir Triston clicked his tongue, "Never stand in one place for long unless your alchemy stands stronger than your own."

But the comment was lost on Wilbur as his hand gave up the clutch on stone sword. His fingers clutched the dirt on the Earth as the world took a darker shade. A river of pain flew up the left side of his chest. He tried to speak, but the effort of drawing breath seemed more demanding by the second. Only something resembling a gurgle escaped.

He did not notice Sir Triston undoing all the chains and looking at him perplexed, simultaneously calling for any help available.

****