When Radagast touched his temple, Rowan felt like he was floating on a peaceful stream of water. His body was just gliding along the predestined path of mother nature. "That's it," Radagast whispered to him, "Relax, My Prince."
Rowan was relaxing. Until he opened his eyes again.
The field was in front of him. A few circles were made on the ground with white chalk. Inside the circle, the sorcerers were practicing the movement he had just taught them beforehand. It was a simple movement of deflecting and locking the other's body on the ground. Most sorcerers rely heavily on their arms to create magic. It was like an extension of their limbs, a part of their soul that derived from the worldly elements, both humans are accustomed to or not. From what Radagast told him, it was like weaving t
