Mercury Mind (The Downfall Saga Book 1) by Chris Mccready

definitely got Donovan’s attention.
    “And it keeps my reflexes sharp,” continued Osmont, face neutral.
    Donovan stood there, slacked jawed, face burning. “You can’t hit me. I’m a student.”
    “I just did and must I remind you that I am not a teacher.”
    Though he was expecting it, the second slap still hit him in the side of the head before he could react.
    “You’re a teacher, whether you’re employed here or not,” said Donovan, finally causing Osmont to smile.
    “Just as you will always be a nuisance, regardless of where you go.”
    Donovan tried to copy Osmont, arms and legs delayed by a fraction of a second as he tried to follow the patterns. He quickly became aware of how complicated it was: keeping the hands cupped just so and the feet correctly positioned. Tensing certain muscles, while others moved freely. Despite the fact that he moved with an almost glacial slowness, he found it impossible to imitate Osmont’s smooth grace. He kept over extending himself and had to flail his arms to regain his balance. Despite its casual grace, it was exhausting, and Donovan was glad when it was over.
    “That was exhausting,” said Donovan, rubbing his heavy arms.
    “It gets easier,” said Osmont, showing no signs of fatigue. “I do it every morning, and you are welcome to join me, as long as it doesn’t interfere with your classes.”
    “It’s either that or sleep in.”
    “So there’s no real choice.” Osmont took a series of slow, deep breaths before beginning the routine a second time.
    Donovan tried to follow him again, but it was much harder this time. The muscles in his arms and legs already felt like lead, and wouldn’t respond how he wanted them to.
    Donovan gave up halfway through the routine before he fell and hurt himself. He slowly paced around, with his hands on his hips, sucking in the cold mountain air, as he let his body slowly cool off.
    A half hour before his class started, History with Professor Cleary, he bid Osmont adieu, and headed to his room to change into dry clothes.
    Arriving at the History classroom ten minutes before class, Donovan wandered around until everyone else showed up.
    The room was large and simply adorned. Tables dominated most of the floor. A small desk, covered in papers, but more organized than the one in Professor Cleary’s office, sat at the front of the room. Large, rolled up maps and diagrams sat in a series of divided shelves, resembling a wine rack, near the front of the room. A bookshelf full of leather bound books sat behind Professor Cleary’s desk.
    Skimming through the titles, Donovan saw that most were focused on ancient myths and legends, as well as the early history of the world. Hearing footsteps coming down the hallway, Donovan claimed a table at the back corner of the room.
    Caddaric entered the room, deep in conversation with a large entourage of students. Taking a seat near the middle of the room, the others quickly surrounded him, still hanging on his every word.
    The rest of the class entered a few moments later. Catching Kort’s eye, he motioned for Kort to join him.
    “How was your first class?” asked Donovan.
    “Horrible,” said Kort. “Do you know how many different letters there are, and how many words they can form?”
    “It will seem like a lot less once you learn the basics.”
    Kort’s reply was cut off when Professor Cleary entered and the class fell silent. Scanning the room, they found Ravyn and Delaney sitting at a table in the front row, closest to the door. Ravyn sat there, straight-backed with her hands folded in her lap, ready to learn. Delaney was curled in a tight ball on her chair, her eyes just barely poked over the top of the table.
    “Good morning, class,” said Cleary, writing his name on a blackboard at the front of the room. “My name is Professor Cleary and I’m here to teach you about history. We obviously do not have enough time to cover all of history.” He let out a laugh which wasn’t