Golden Thorns: Chapter Twenty-one

They faced each other down, circling slowly. The weapon swung. He dropped into a low squat as it sailed over his head. He smacked the butt of his Glaive into the side of his opponent's knee, yielding a satisfying crack. He jumped up as his adversary went down. Hard. He took a couple of steps backward. The bout was over in less than ten seconds. Disappointing. He expected better from Cardin, who had been high on the class leader board until then.

Coran walked back to his seat at the side of the sparring hall, listening to the whispers. "Psycho," "brutal," "dangerous."

"What's his problem?"

"Didn't you hear? The guy let one of his team get messed up by a beowolf last week."

He sat down next to Devlyn and leant back in his seat. They thought he couldn't hear them. He could, easily. As clear as if they were whispering in his ear. Popular opinion seemed to think of him as serial killer material. Still, if it stopped them from going after his team then he was all for it.

"Bloody hell Coran I think you broke his leg." Dev said quietly.

"He had it coming." Remembering the numerous times that Dev had come back late, limping.

"Did he?" Devlyn's scales were flushed a much darker green than normal.

"He'll be fine. Look the medics have already got him. And you know better than most how much he had it coming." Cardin was groaning quietly as he was wheeled out on a gurney.

"Even so. You couldn't have turned it down even a little bit?"

"Accidents happen all the time, what can I say."

It had been six days since the incident in Foreverfall. They had hurried back to the school immediately. On their way to the med centre they had of course been headed off by Goodwitch, telling them that she was going into surgery and they wouldn't be allowed to watch anyway so they might as well recount their tale. They did, though Coran said nothing about when they were alone.

"A captured Boarbatusk and a slain pack of Beowolves. Not bad even with the injury at the end." She had said, "So you applied the first aid, Mr Silverthorne?"

"yes." He had replied quietly.

"The paramedics send their compliments. If you had not Miss d'Or would have certainly died today. As it happens, you have given her a chance-"

"Hey! Cor! Wakey wakey!" Jo's shout snapped him back from his reverie, "You're up again." He looked around. The class was looking at him expectantly, almost as if they thought he would lash out. He stood, apologised quietly to Goodwitch who gave him an understanding nod and walked up to the battle stage. Facing him was a short girl, wearing a black skirt and red cape. She really did look very young, and that was when he remembered who she was. The infamous Ruby Rose, leader of team RWBY and one of the youngest students to ever make it to beacon. The Same Ruby Rose who dragged a Nevermore up a cliff.

So why was she looking so nervous. She was standing there, shuffling her feet slightly and barely making eye contact. He realised that she must be thinking about Cardin's leg. Did they really think that he would not hold back on an innocent little girl two years younger than him? Goodwitch gave the countdown and the match began. Coran raised his Glaive into a defensive grip. Suddenly the girl was gone, sprinting to his right. He spun just in time to block a swing from her scythe strong enough to cause him to stumble. He rolled back and parried again, and again, and again. The onslaught was overpowering. Bloody hell she was fast. He was being pushed back further and further, only just holding his defence. One final overhead slash from that great instrument of destruction and Coran was on his back. Looking up into a face of pure innocence apologising profusely and asking if he was okay. He didn't know what had happened. He wasn't injured, just shaken up. So what was the fuss about? He couldn't win them all. He slowly sat up and looked around. Lying next to him was his glaive. Its haft cleanly sliced in two pieces.

"Well. Good bout Ruby." He stood and shook her hand, an expression of concern still across her features. "I believe that I need to see the armourers. Ms Goodwitch, May I be excused?"