VALOR - Chapter 3 - You Call This A Gym?

Second period was located in the gym and everyone was wearing sports attire: white shirts and black and gold jogging pants.

Isenna had just finished changing when she saw Yvie in her sports uniform, showcasing the large chest she was carrying. She looked down to look at her own and saw that she had no chance against her for what is a valley to a mountain?

A gloomy Isenna walked alongside the stone-faced Yvie out of the dressing room, and into the gym. Whoever called it a gym understated it by a large margin: a large, circular stage in the middle of a 360 square-feet field with an open roof. Just around the stage is a field track and beyond that are the bleachers bordering the entirety of the gym- no, coliseum.

Waiting on the track field was a gigantic mustached, balding blond man with veiny muscles and chest hair that seemed to protrude out from the seams of his shirt.

"Hello, children," said the man whose muscles could tear his own shirt into pieces if he flexed it too much. He spoke with a gentle, low vibrato tone. "I am Coach Wilfred Warshen. Welcome to the Highward Academy Gym and Training Grounds or HAGATRAG for short.".

The entire class. Was silent.

"Hagatrag? That sounds ab-so-lute-ly stup-" one of the boys of Class 4 muttered and found himself unable to say the last word. He grasped at his throat, and tried to shout but nothing happened. They looked at the Coach who had his hands clasped together.

"Listen here, youngster." The coach's kind eyes were replaced with a dark and sinister aura and started to speak slowly and with a growl, "I do not take kindly to those that desecrate or insult these sacred halls of mine. So if the moment that I take my hands off each other and you dare insult this place again… You will bear the consequences of your actions. Do you understand me?"

After seeing a panicked nod from the student, Coach Wilfred's expression turned back into a man that screamed "EXERCISE!" even without speaking. The student on the other hand cowered to the back of the class.

"Now, as your first act under my tutelage, you will…" the coach did a spin then struck pose, "RUN FIFTEEN LAPS AROUND THE TRACK!"

He could hear the sounds of complaint from some of the boys and most of the girls.

A few veins surfaced on his head as he stifled his irritation and conjured a smile.

"Boys and girls… if you don't run right now…" he took out a rock from his pocket and crushed it into fine dust, "I'll make sure you can't even walk ever again."

Without a minute to lose, the whole Class 4 started to run around the track as if their very lives depended on it.

"I can't… Take this… Anymore…" Isenna collapsed in the middle of her fourth lap. Her forehead was drenched and her feet ached. She can even feel her kidneys sucked dry. She looked up to see who was still running and saw Yvie, who didn't seem to even work up a sweat.

As the sun shone over the open roof and its heat sapped them of all of their stamina, Coach Warshen stood before the fallen students.

"If you were in the battlefield you'd have died in a minute. Maybe even less."

"Sir…" Isenna struggled to raise her hand but managed to do so nonetheless. "Does magic need stamina to be used?"

"Magic?" Coach Warshen's laugh boomed all over the mostly empty coliseum. "Magic has nothing to do with your stamina, young lady."

"But why do we need i-"

Warshen shushed the prospective girl, "Consider you're sent to the battlefield and you are on the march. Do you think your fellow soldiers will stop for you when you're tired? And once you meet the enemy, how will you be able to beat them without energy? Moving drains stamina. Even the simple raise of the hand, once you're tired, is a pain to do."

"So this is all because of us being too-"

"Weak, yes."] All the fallen students rolled their eyes. "But even the weak can become strong. And that is what this academy is for! To make weak little babies like you into strong and sturdy Arisian soldiers!"

The Coach did a pose that belonged in a poster and would have made a fellow patriot proud. Unfortunately, these patriots in front of him have been sapped of any energy even to shed a single tear for the motherland. With a snort, he inhaled cool air into his mouth and chanted, "Aero!"

A chill breeze blew past the tired students and around the track, reinvigorating even those still running. "Now go and carry on. I want to see you all finish the fifteen laps. Only then can you sit on your butt and be proud of your achievement."

Every single student finally crossed the fifteenth lap with Yvie finishing first who seemed no worse for wear. Even those least capable, while they finished last, finished nonetheless. It seemed that the wind magic the coach used did more than just reinvigorate their vitality. After everyone finished their laps, they finally got to rest on their feet or on the ground.

A smile emerged from Coach, happy that every single one of his students finished the fifteen laps. One student- no, three students caught his eye: it was the dark-haired young lady, Isenna Sarensen, the first placer Yvie Schrad and the brooding young man near the stage: Lothe Wercht.

He called the three to him and dismissed the rest to spend the rest of their day however they want.

"The three of you…" he showed a serious expression, "I have something to ask…"

Isenna and Yvie looked at each other. Lothe furrowed his brow.

"Are you…" he stood there… menacingly… "Interested in a sponsorship?"

He flexed his chest and arms and legs. Now, Coach Warshen was a very muscular man. His clothes were custom fit and perfect for showing off his toned chest and pecks. But the moment he flexed in front of the three, his clothes, with the exception of his underwear, exploded into smithereens, revealing a shining build of pure, lean muscle.

Lothe was blinded by the shining pose of the Coach. Curious about the reactions of his two classmates, he glared to his side and found the both of them wearing sunglasses. The dark-haired girl had her mouth open from awe at the glorious body and the icy girl was unmoved by such a display. 'Where did they get those sunglasses?' he thought to himself but the moment had passed after five seconds when the coach stopped flexing.

Isenna returned Yvie her extra pair of sunglasses and raised her hand. "Sir, what do you mean by sponsorship?"

The Coach chuckled at this sudden question. "Young lady, a sponsorship sounds like what it means- someone to guide you to a certain path. It's something every student must have in their second year in this academy and only professors and staff can become sponsors. Let me tell you that in Class 1, they have already gotten their sponsors. ."

"Do we get to choose our sponsors?"

"Yes and no. You see…" he sat down on the stage which was 4 feet above the ground, "To put it in a way, yes. Choosing a sponsor is possible. But it's better if they choose you- you see, when a professor chooses you, it's because they see potential in you and they will do their utmost best to nurture your potential."

"And if you chose the sponsor?"

"They'll treat you as any student, they'll try to tend to your needs but for the most part, they'll leave you to your own devices and you wouldn't want that. What you'll want is the chance to embrace your element- your affinity!"

"And what's your affinity?" asked Lothe, who was quiet until now, his voice was dry and husky.

"My affinity is Wind!"

"So you're going to just teach us wind?"

"Not exactly. I can teach you the basics of each element and even more! But yes, I can teach you a lot more about wind magic if you're into that."

"I'm interested in learning wind magic," Yvie raised her hand, "As well as water magic."

"Wind and water?" Geare inside the Coach's head started to turn until a second after, it made a ding! "Young lady, what's your last name again?"