When I reached the school courtyard, about twenty kids had already gathered. Rows of chairs had been set out for the students, and I quickly spotted Lyndis sitting alone. I went over and took the seat beside her.
For an instant, her eyes went wide. Then she recovered her composure.
"What are you doing?"
"Well, no one's using this seat, and we already know each other. So I'm sitting next to you. Can't I?"
"Whatever. Do as you please. But don't think we're friends just because my grandfather and your father know each other. We're leagues apart. I'm a noble of the empire, chosen by Morana herself. You're just a spoiled knight's son."
"Oh, thank you very much. Then I'll sit here... my lady," I said, amused.
This kid really doesn't know how to get along with people. Forget the magic; I bet her attitude is why she has no friends.
"You were thinking something rude about me just now, weren't you?" Lyndis glared at me.
"I would never!" I grinned.
Before she could answer, footsteps drew our attention. A girl in what looked like a black nun's habit, a wolf emblem on her chest, walked between the rows of wooden chairs and climbed the podium at the front of the courtyard.
"Welcome to Fountain Elementary, little ones."
Little ones, huh? The irony wasn't lost on me.
"Today you take the first step of a new chapter in your lives. Here you will spend the coming years learning and honing your talents. And when you leave, you will be the lifeblood that keeps our great society safe: the guardians of this empire, the shield that protects Heim's people from the menace of the Dark Ones."
"Who's that little girl, and why is she giving a speech?" I whispered.
"You don't even know that?" Lyndis whispered back. "She's the principal. She helps oversee the defenses of Fountain. Principal Therese Apocrypha, one of the Twilight Paladins — the four great knights who watch over the entire Heim Empire with Her Majesty's blessing."
"Really? But she's so small. I thought she was another noble student. Lord Elbert's daughter or something."
"As far as I know, the lord of this city has no daughters. He has a son, but I've never met him."
Suddenly we both felt a chill run down our spines and shut our mouths. Up on the podium, Principal Therese was giving us a harsh stare, without missing a word of her speech.
"Lyn... you don't think she heard us... right?" I said awkwardly.
"I don't think so... I hope not. And why are you shortening my name? I don't remember allowing that!" she hissed, flustered.
"I look forward to seeing what kind of people you will become," Therese continued. "I will close this ceremony with the words my mentor once spoke to me: Arise, children of Morana! Go forth and become the foundation of this world!"
She stepped down and headed into the main building.
Soon after, a tall man with blond hair and blue eyes took her place. Just from the way he carried himself, I could tell.
"He's very strong," I murmured.
He scanned the courtyard. "We'll now begin testing your abilities. You're all five years old, so I don't expect much. But I do expect you've had some training at home, or I don't know why you'd be here in the first place. I'm Jaffar Wolfsbane, and I'll be in charge of today's examinations."
A red-haired boy in blue raised his hand. "Instructor, what happens if we don't meet your expectations? Will we be denied entry?"
"I already said it, kid: I don't expect anything from you, so you can't fail. The point is to evaluate your current strengths and potential, so we can group you accordingly. Is that clear enough?"
"Yes, sir!"
"Good to hear. Now, let's begin."
Just as he'd said, the tests weren't hard. But they were tricky.
The first was simply to run around the plaza. That was it. No number of laps, no time limit. Even though the instructor had said no one would be turned away, the air was tense. I suppose everyone wanted to be recognized as the best of the twenty.
I saw the test for what it was: a measure of endurance.
When it began, most kids sprinted as fast as they could, the red-haired boy in the lead. I settled into a jog I knew I could keep up for a long time.
Time passed. Kids began collapsing from exhaustion. The test went on for about an hour, until the instructor shouted:
"That's enough! You get twenty minutes to rest before the next test."
By then I was exhausted too, but I'd held my pace the whole way. Of the twenty of us, only seven were still in decent shape.
To my surprise, the red-haired kid who'd run flat out from the start hadn't collapsed. Somewhere around the middle he'd started shouting about breaking past his limits. What an impressive little brat.
Lyndis had understood the test too and held a steady rhythm — sadly for me, a faster one than mine. Whatever. It wasn't a competition. A few others had also held up admirably against a test that was simple, but hard.
"That was a tough one," I said, walking over to Lyndis.
"Something at this level is nothing," said the clearly exhausted girl.
"I wonder what's next."
"Looks like we're about to find out. Here comes the instructor."
Jaffar approached with several others, all apparently instructors.
"For the next test, you'll pick a weapon. If you have no experience, just choose one you feel comfortable with. You may also fight barehanded."
Behind him, the instructors began setting out wooden weapons of every kind: swords of various types, axes, maces, lances, even gauntlets with wooden knuckles. An impressive array.
"Um, Instructor Jaffar, sir? What are we going to do with these? Surely you're not going to have us fight some kind of free-for-all?" I asked.
"Not a bad idea... but no. This test will determine your proficiency with the weapon you choose. You'll be tested by one of our instructors, each a master of their art."
A little girl with cute curly pigtails raised her hand. "Sir, what if we want to be mages?"
"A mage, huh? We won't know anything about magic until you awaken, around ten, and attend the Gathering to see whether one of the gods blesses you. So it isn't a path you can take right now. You should at least train with a weapon, in case you can't become one."
With that, we approached the weapon racks.
Many kids hesitated, which was natural: unless you were a noble or a knight's child, you probably hadn't had any weapon training. I picked a longsword right away and returned to my place.
Once everyone had chosen, the instructors led us off in different groups. We passed classrooms where older students were already deep in their lessons, and finally entered a large rectangular hall. Lines painted on the floor formed a big square, apparently for training matches.
"Welcome to the sparring hall," said a young woman. "Since all of you chose swords, and there are many kinds of swords, we'll assign you to the instructor best suited to yours."
"Today we'll teach you basic stances and practice a few moves," said an elderly, bearded man.
"Those of you with experience, don't get conceited. The basics are the most important thing. Take your practice seriously or face punishment. As of this moment, you are students of this school, and you'll be treated no differently regardless of your heritage or skill." The speaker was a hooded figure; from her voice, I guessed a woman.
I spotted Lyndis with a wooden katana already at her waist. Other kids had katanas too; some had longswords like me, and a pair held daggers.
"My name is Garus Banely. All new longsword users, with me," said the elderly man.
The hooded instructor stepped forward as Jaffar appeared behind us. "I'm Excel Crowly. Jaffar and I will teach you the dagger and the rapier."
"Form up here," Jaffar added.
Finally, the young woman spoke. "Mei Raiden. Katana users, come." Brief and to the point.
There were four of us with longswords, two with rapiers, two with daggers and four with katanas. Each instructor began demonstrating basic guards and their advantages, along with a few simple moves.
Instructor Garus was explaining the guard known as the Plough. He took his stance: left foot forward, right foot back, sword held before him with the tip angled slightly forward, aimed at an opponent's throat.
"This is the most common of all stances in the way of the sword. Many schools use it. In fact, if I told you to take a combat position, most of you would assume this one. The Plough is very versatile. As you can see, it lets you quickly cover most of your body." He swept the sword to each side, as if deflecting blows. "It also lets you thrust or slash quickly. Like this!"
He extended both arms, driving the tip forward in a swift thrust, then followed with a few side slashes.
"Now, all of you, assume the Plough. One hundred thrusts, then one hundred side slashes."
For me, this was everyday bread. But for some of the kids, it was clearly the first time they'd held a sword, and it showed in their posture. Garus quickly pointed out their flaws and helped correct them.
As I went through my thrusts and swings, my eyes wandered to the others. I spotted Lyndis practicing her draw. The skill she showed was breathtaking.
Suddenly a throbbing pain shot through the back of my legs and I hit the ground. Garus stood over me, wooden sword in hand.
"Who told you to stop swinging, boy?"
At some point I'd stopped without realizing it. I scrambled to my feet. "Sorry, sir. I got distracted by my classmates."
"Oh? Are you such a master swordsman that you can afford to ignore your own training and watch your fellow students? What's your name, boy?"
"Revan Astley, sir."
"Well, Revan, since you're such a master of the sword, I have another test for you. Fail it, and I'll expel you."
"Expel me, sir? Isn't that a bit much?"
"You're questioning me, boy? I see you lack discipline." He turned toward where I'd been looking. "Alfield! This boy seems so interested in your swordplay. Spar with him, and show him by knocking him out."
Lyndis looked at Garus, hesitant. "I..."
He cut her off before she could say more. "Fail, and face the same punishment. The rest of you, clear to the sides."
Everyone except Garus, Lyndis and me moved to the edges of the room.
This is bad. I have to face Lyndis, who can already use magic. I don't know her katana skills, but judging by that draw, she's experienced.
A bad situation indeed... and yet I'm excited. A real fight, with real stakes.
A strained smile crept onto my face.
Lyndis
I'd been called to spar with an annoying boy, just because he'd been fooling around during practice.
I didn't want to fight him. My silly grandfather had already let slip that I could use magic, and I didn't want anyone else to know. If he said it here and now, at least he might avoid fighting me.
But then the black-haired boy spoke.
"I'm sorry for dragging you into this, Lyn. But I have no intention of going easy on you."
I was stunned. All my life, people had avoided me the moment they saw how skilled I was. I'd been alone, with only my grandfather and my family by my side. And now this boy I'd met that very morning was smiling at me, ready to fight.
Did he think he could win? Even knowing I had magic? Knowing I was the only disciple of my grandfather, Artras Alfield, the White Wolf?
Suddenly I was furious.
"I wasn't going to go easy on you either way, Revan. This is the perfect chance to get rid of you. And don't call me that. We're not friends!"
Then it happened. What I saw and felt shook me to my core.
A strange, twisted smile spread across his face, and I felt bloodlust. I'd only ever felt something like it when my father took me hunting wolves in the Serinas Forest. Even the other students flinched.
He took a guard so clumsy it barely deserved the name. What is this amateur? How can he give off an aura like this?
I gripped my katana.
I knew it then: if I didn't put him down fast, his fangs would reach me.
I can't lose to this... to this kid.
Revan
I'd apologized to Lyn because, in the end, she was only in this mess because of me. I should've refused the match so she wouldn't get in trouble.
But I wanted to fight her. The disciple of my father's old commander, who'd looked so strong. I couldn't hold back the feeling compelling me forward. I'd just lose at the last moment. But before that, I wanted to beat her. I wanted to test my skills.
I shut out everything except Lyn, myself and Instructor Garus, who'd referee. I tightened my grip and assumed what's known as the Fool's Guard: longsword in both hands, angled to my right, tip pointing down.
The tension sharpened my senses. I could feel every breath.
Lyn looked surprised by my guard. She probably didn't know it; all she saw was an inexperienced fool. But that was exactly the point of this guard: deceive your opponent, anticipate their strike, then answer with a flurry of counters that utterly destroys them.
I could feel my classmates holding their breath. Even Lyn seemed shaken. My instructor's face showed nothing but surprise. My father had told me the bloodlust I gave off when I got serious was something I needed to control. But right now, I needed Lyn as rattled as possible.
Before I could close the distance, she moved — at astonishing speed. None of the other kids could have kept up, but I sparred with my father regularly. This was manageable.
Her right hand drew the katana while her left pulled back the wooden sheath, the blade sweeping toward my neck from the right.
I felt myself smile as my arms moved without thought. Muscle memory. My sword rose from the low angle of the Fool's Guard to cover my right side — left hand above my head, right hand at eye level.
Her katana slammed into my blade. I pushed with my right hand, forcing it back, then drove with my left, bringing my sword overhead into a downward slash at her head.
She stepped back. I'd expected that. I pulled the hilt with my left hand and pushed with my right, turning the downward cut into a thrust at her throat.
She sidestepped to my right and slashed at my left side. But I'd already shifted into the Right Ox, a stance made for countering. I caught her blade, deflected it and, in the same motion, swung around at her right side.
She tried to retreat, but the tip of my sword grazed her right shoulder.
I pressed the attack with a string of thrusts. She parried frantically, but I gave her no room to breathe; she couldn't recover her guard. As she gave ground, I settled into the Plough and attacked from every side. Strike left, guard right. Strike low, guard high, strike left again.
Her posture was starting to crumble. My blade was longer; I had the reach. And she kept favoring her right shoulder. That graze had done more than I'd thought.
"HAHAHAHA! LYN, YOU'RE MINE!"
I prepared one of the Astley sword arts. My whole body tensed, my senses sharpening even further. I shifted into the Rear Guard and lunged forward, tilting my head to the right.
Her katana grazed my right cheek. A little blood. But I'd slipped her thrust, and now she was wide open.
I pulled the hilt, and my blade flew toward the left side of her belly. With a real sword, it would have cut her in half, from her left hip to her right armpit. Thankfully, this was wood. It would still hurt — a lot.
But just before it landed, my body threw itself backward. Every sense screamed danger.
If I hadn't jumped back as fast as I did, I'd have been caught. The moment I landed, I saw it: the floor around Lyn had frozen. She'd activated her ice magic.
For the first time in the match, she looked scared. Was it because she'd drawn blood from my cheek? Or because she'd just realized she'd been about to take a decisive, very painful blow?
It didn't matter. I couldn't stop the feeling pulling me forward. If she was going to show her cards, I still had one of my own to play.
A smile crept across my face.
"REVAN, STOP! YOU'RE MAKING A REALLY SCARY FACE!" Lyndis yelled.
"Stop? No. This isn't over." I heard my own voice, dark and low. "You just showed me one of your cards. Allow me to show you one of mine."
Lyndis
I was breathing raggedly. He'd forced me to use my magic.
This boy was nothing like I'd expected. He'd read every move and countered it, barely giving me time to breathe.
In that last exchange, he'd started forward with his blade's tip pointing behind him. I thrust on reflex, and the moment I saw I'd hit him square in the face, I tried to pull back. But at the last instant he tilted his head to the right, with a crazed smile on his face. Had he planned that from the start?
From the corner of my eye I saw his blade coming at a terrifying speed. That strike wasn't just going to beat me; it carried a deadly purpose. I'd be lucky to come out with only broken ribs.
Without thinking, I activated my magic. Frost Aura.
But as it took effect, Revan not only stopped his attack, he leapt back out of its range. The floor around me froze instantly.
The instructor's eyes went wide. Was it my magic, or the whole exchange? Only a few minutes had passed since we started, but it felt like days.
Even more shocking was Revan's smile. It grew nastier. His eyes were bloodshot. I yelled at him to stop making that face. The instructors shouted that it was enough. But it was as if Revan couldn't hear them.
My uncle had told me about this: a madness seen only on the harshest battlefields. Revan had fallen into a battle frenzy. He heard nothing but what he needed to fight.
Then he said something that shocked me even more.
"Stop? No. This isn't over. You just showed me one of your cards. Allow me to show you one of mine."
His wrists twisted left and right, and his sword began to move like a slithering snake.
What is he thinking? I've shown him my magic, and he still wants to fight? What is he going to do?
As I watched, I thought I heard a distant voice calling for us to stop. I didn't know. I didn't care. My mind and body screamed at me not to take my eyes off him.
Hiding my magic, the fear of being isolated because of it — none of that mattered anymore. At some point this had become a real life-or-death battle. The longer I looked at Revan, the louder my senses screamed: death. And it was coming fast.
Then I noticed something strange. The space around Revan began to warp: small distortions all around him.
"Don't tell me... you have magic too," I whispered.
Something in my mind snapped. This attack wasn't anything ordinary. I had to crush him now, or I would die. I had to use everything I had, or I wouldn't survive.
"AHHHHHHHH!"
The mana around me took shape at my will, gathering around me and coating my wooden katana.
"Heavenly Blade: Silent Fang!"
Icicles formed all around me.
"AHHHHHHHH!"
They launched as if propelled by my war cry, and I launched myself after them at full speed, raising my katana.
Then Revan's body moved so fast he seemed to disappear. None of my icicles came close to him. I couldn't see him, but I could feel his sword coming for my neck.
I won't go down without a fight. If nothing else, I'll take him with me.
He appeared in front of me, his blade inches from the left side of my neck. I swung my ice-wrapped katana in Silent Fang — an apprentice-level technique, but one that freezes anything my blade cuts. I'd spent a whole year practicing it, and now I unleashed it at Revan's neck.
Just as we were both about to meet our ends, a blond man appeared at Revan's right side.
He landed a terrifying punch that sent Revan flying. In the same motion he drew a dagger and deflected my sword. Before I could even react, an incredible pain exploded in my stomach, and I went flying too. My instructor had just delivered a powerful kick to the pit of my stomach.
As my consciousness faded, all I could think was:
Thank the gods. I'm not going to die.