Great.
‘You will notice there are twelve of you and six of them. In a moment you will be placed in pairs and assigned a combat leader. Your combat leader will mark you on your progress throughout your training. At the end of each month, the student who has scored the highest marks will be rewarded. Now, you might be wondering what these rewards are.’ He pauses and signals to the combat leaders standing side by side like soldiers ready for battle.
Suddenly, the six of them unsheathe weapons from their body with quick, fluid movements.
Two of them pull shields from their backs. My eyes immediately fix on the polished malachite stones that have been built into the flat edges of the shields, creating a ring of green against the silver. Lillian unsheathes two daggers next and again, her blades are embossed with malachite, two inches of green swirling stone meeting the tip of each deadly blade. Another combat leader presents throwing stars. They’re sharp and intricately carved, with malachite in the centres. A bow and arrow are next; the deadly pointed end of the arrow is a sharpened cut of the swirling green stone.
Finally, my eyes fall to Sebastian, who unsheathes the short sword strapped to his back. He whirls it through the air effortlessly, as if it’s an extension of his own arm. A strip of green malachite runs right through the centre of the blade, from base to tip.
Stars, these are beautiful weapons. Judging by the gasps that build down the line of first years, I’m inclined to believe the rest of my class agrees.
‘Theseare what you’re working for, acolytes! Take them in, because if you want one, you’ll have to prove you deserve it. I’ll call your names, then the combat leader that’s been assigned to you will take you to a training mat. They will be your first point of contact. You listen to them, you heed their advice, you do as you’re told. Understood?’
No, I want to grumble.
‘Cillian Foy and Isla Peters,’ Nicks calls out. A blonde girl next to Moira steps forward, as does the burly guy next to me. Without needing to be announced, Lillian moves forward and gestures for her two acolytes to follow her.
My stomach sinks. Shit. Now I’ll either be stuck with a stranger or Sebastian, who feels like as much a stranger as the others.
‘Marcus Long and Aiden Redford.’
Two others step forward, grinning at each other, clearly glad to be paired together. They bump shoulders while walking toward their combat leader, who has a gnarly scar across his jawline.
My heart starts to race as another two students leave, dwindling down to the moment I was dreading in my mind. My worst possible outcome.
‘Moira Davis and Arianell Nocthare,’ Nicks announces.
I don’t move.
I fear if I do, it’ll be to turn around and walk the hell out of here. To make matters worse, the combat leader that steps forward is Sebastian.
What have I done to deserve this?I ask myself silently, looking to the ceiling. Why am I being punished? What have I ever done in my life to incite this particular brand of torture?
‘Acolyte, have you forgotten how to use your legs?’ Professor Nicks points to Moira and Sebastian, who have already walked off without me.
‘No,’ I mutter petulantly beneath my breath. Reluctantly, I follow a dozen steps behind them, watching as they carve out a spot at the far end of the room, almost directly outside of Nicks’s office. By the time I reach them, Moira is stretching her hamstrings out, bent over so that her ass is directly in front of Sebastian. Surprisingly, he’s not paying her a lick of attention, because his entire focus is on me as I join them in front of a large, square, foam mat.
‘Nice of you to finally join us,’ he states with a stonelike expression.
‘Wish I felt the same,’ I huff and tug at the end of my braid that’s fallen over my shoulder, ensuring the elastic is secure.
‘If you want me to cut you out, I will. It’ll be no skin off my back.’
‘Doubt it.’ I shake my head, letting my braid fall to my back. ‘You’re not shutting me out again that easily, Zain. If Professor Nicks says I get to train, then I’m training.’ Because I’m positive if Nicks wasn’t here, Sebastian would have tried his best to isolate me from training once more.
‘Is that so?’ Sebastian cocks his head slowly, as if he’s assessing how determined I am to fight him on this. Which is very. I can tell the moment he realises I’m not backing down this time, because his eyes harden into two gleaming emerald stones.
‘Fine,’ he relents. ‘But I suggest you get down and start stretching those little legs out. They’re going to be shaking by the time I’m done with you.’
‘Again,’ Sebastian barks as he paces around the circumference of the mat. I’m currently bent over on my hands and knees, panting through what feels like my last breaths as Moira glares up at me from the mat like she wants to claw my eyes out.
We’ve been sparring against each other for what feels like hours. After gritting my teeth through her onslaught of attacks on my body,I saw an opening and went for it, swiping her standing leg from under her as her other one soared high, careening for my face.
I’ve been put on defence this whole time while Moira’s been put on offence. Her attacks have been fast and ruthless, keeping me constantly on edge. But the more I evade her swift advances and strikes, the sloppier she’s becoming, letting her frustration and anger fuel her rather than precision and calculation.
She’s not bad, I’ll admit that … begrudgingly. But she’d be better if she wasn’t so intent on harming me.
My own defence has been locked down like a steel wall. My eyes have been trained on her every move, every breath, every twitch of her fingers and slide of her foot. Through all of this I was able to pick up on her tell as well: each time she goes to kick, her back foot takes one little step forward seconds before she strikes. Which is how I knew when to pivot out of the way, duck low, and swipe my leg out with a hard kick, knocking her off her standing foot and flat onto her back. She hit the mat with a satisfying thud.
