Chapter One

Kou Elinvar strode into the village of Ester as the sun’s first golden rays heralded a new day. It was always a delight to visit Ester in the morning, before the demands of the Academy would occupy him for the rest of the day, leaving him too weary to do much during the night. Cozy oak houses stood around a central square. Many displayed lovingly kept flower gardens where dandelions, roses, and a myriad native wildflowers grew. Some were flanked by crop fields or stables or farms of livestock. A cock crowed in the distance as the sun peered over the horizon.

The people were waking up now, rising from peaceful slumber to face the day ahead of them. The women drew water from the well in the central square to give the flowers their daily breakfast before making food for their families. The men would spend much of the day tending their crops and livestock, anticipating the harvest and the butchery to produce fresh product for trade with the neighboring city of Razel, which lay east, just beyond Ester Forest.

Kou could smell the aroma of the cook fires. Passing a house, he couldn’t help but look through the window. A family was just sitting down to their meal. A comely women, a bearded, broad-shouldered husband, and two young boys. Kou sighed with longing as he passed. The only family he ever knew was his uncle.

You better be cooking something good, he thought absently to himself. He considered himself blessed to be training at an academy so close to his home village. He was always able to visit his uncle. It was like he never left him to train in the Militia at all. He came to a large house flanked by a stable. As usual, he decided to stop by the stable first. Entering, he stopped in front of a stall and was greeted with a nudge on the face by the snout of a black horse.

“How’re you, Puck? That old coot treating you well? He better be. He knows you’re my favorite.” Kou playfully petted the horse across her mane. As if responding to the sentiments, Puck reared her head and whinnied. Kou hugged the mare‘s neck.

“Should’ve known you were here,” said a voice behind him. “Nobody else gets Puck excited like that these days.”

A stocky, middle aged man stood at the stable entrance, wearing a plain brown shirt and green trousers. He brushed a hand through his graying hair and smiled.

Kou walked over and hugged him. “You know it, Tenil,” he said. He released the man and looked at him with an expectant grin. “But more importantly, where is breakfast? I’m starving!”

Tenil groaned and shook his head. “That’s always the first thing you ask. Not how I’m doing, but where’s your damn breakfast!”

“Sorry,” Kou said sheepishly. “How’re you doing, my dearest uncle?” He paused. “Now where’s my damn breakfast?”

“Kinreol’s Ghost, why do I still bother? Come along you impatient leach.” Tenil turned and walked out of the stable.

Giving Puck a playful pat, Kou followed.

Kou sat eagerly at the small wooden dining table, the wall to his left with a window overlooking the stables. A hearth lay before him, a fire still burning after being used for cooking. A sword hung on the mantelpiece, a treasured relic from Tenil’s past as a soldier of the Cirnus Militia. Small throw rugs covered the bare wooden floor in key areas, like the front of the hearth or beneath the water basin and practically all of what Tenil deemed his “lounging room.” Kou didn’t care to point out that it wasn’t technically a room just because he sectioned it off with rugs.

Kou licked his lips as Tenil piled his plate high with sausage and sweet cakes with a bit of eggs on the side. Appraising his meal, Kou turned a shrewd eye to Tenil. “Going too easy on the eggs again.”

Tenil groaned. “By the Trinity, boy, are you ever satisfied? Last week it was too much bacon and not enough honey on the sweet cakes. Now it’s not enough damn eggs?”

Kou chuckled. “You know I like to keep you on your toes.”

“It’s not my toes you should be worrying about, boy. Do you carry this same attitude at the academy? Please tell me you don’t!”

“If I did I wouldn’t be an elite cadet and I wouldn’t be completing my training tomorrow!” Kou grinned slyly.

Tenil fixed himself a plate of his own and sat across from Kou.

“Yes, I heard,” Tenil said as he skewered a sausage link. “After all these years they still haven’t been able to make a man of you.” The wide smile on Tenil’s face betrayed the pride he felt for his nephew.

Kou saluted him with his knife. “You should know that some things can’t be changed.”

“Some day, boy, you’ll have to grow up.”

“And turn into you? No thanks!”

Tenil ignored the gibe, spooning a mouthful of eggs. They ate in silence for a moment, giving all their attention to their food until Tenil broke the silence.

“You’ll make a fine soldier, Kou. The Cirnus Militia is lucky to have you.”

Kou smiled. “I’m so excited. I was hardly able to sleep last night.”

“What of those cadet friends of yours, the red-headed sorceress and that yellow haired kid that can‘t keep his hands to himself?”

Kou looked up at him. “Ayla and Lance? They made it too, of course, and all seven of the elites. I’m not sure about all the ordinary cadets, though.”

“I still can’t believe that you made elite. In my cadet days I couldn’t even make elite.”

“You didn’t challenge one of the Militia’s most skilled swordsmen and almost win,” Kou pointed out, a self-satisfied smile on his face.

“Bah! I know Master Zeke. He was probably sick or distracted or something. Or perhaps he took pity on you and let you wound him.”

Kou laughed. “Now why in Pyrfiene’s name would he do something like that?”

Tenil shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe he has eyes for you or something.”

Kou almost spat out his eggs. “Uncle! How can you even suggest such a thing?”

“I’m just trying to make sense of this,” Tenil said defensively. “You, of all people, an elite? You’re a damn good swordsman, Kou, but you’re too headstrong. If I were your master you wouldn’t make elite until you’ve had an attitude adjustment.”

“Gee, thanks!” Kou said, rolling his eyes.

“And my idea does make some sense, come to think of it. Is there something you’d like to tell me about yourself?” Tenil winked in mock flirtation.

“Uncle!” Kou exclaimed. Tenil laughed. Kou stared indignantly. “Seriously, uncle, you know what the priests of Orionus, the Child-God say about that?”

“I thought you worshiped Pyrfiene of the Trinity, not Orionus.”

“Does that matter?”

“It matters if you’re going to keep swearing by the Blade.”

Kou shook his head, skewering a sausage with his knife as if stabbing an enemy. Suddenly, he glared at Tenil.

“By the Blade, you’ve done it to me again!”

Tenil laughed. “It’s too easy to get under your skin. You never learn.”

“Someday, Tenil.” Kou warned.

“So there is hope for you and Zeke?”

Kou sneered. “You forget who once walked through that door with a young sorceress in his arms, and the noise that kept you up that night.”

“You mean when you and Ayla were lovers? I think that may have been the shortest romance in history.”

“Short but sweet,” Kou said with a wink.

Tenil chuckled. Finishing his breakfast, he reclined lazily in his chair. He produced a pipe from his pocket, filled it with some finely chopped herbs and lit it with a candle. He breathed a puff of smoke in the air with a relaxed sigh.

“That stuff will be the death of you,” Kou said, grimacing at the smell. “You smoke too much of that Nylsian weed.”

“Don’t you dare insult Nylsia,” Tenil said indignantly. “I’m from there, you know, and Nylsian herbs are probably the best thing to come out of their trade agreement with Cirnus.”

“After we beat the Nylsians across their backsides, that is.”

Tenil sighed another puff of smoke. “Ah, ignorant youth. You insult Nylsia having never been there, and you insult Nylsian herbs having never tried it.” Tenil looked at Kou sincerely. “There’s a whole world outside of Ester. Even outside of the Cirnus Nation, for that matter. Not that you’ve even seen your own nation. Hopefully service in the Militia will fix that.”

“If you find me ignorant, uncle, enlighten me,” Kou said, smiling. “How is it in the tree-humping country of Nylsia?”

Tenil shook his head. “If you’re going to ask like that there’s no point in telling.”

Tenil took another puff from his pipe and pointedly blew smoke in Kou’s direction. When Kou finished his meal he reclined in his chair much like his uncle.

“I have to feed the horses now,” Tenil said. “Mind helping me before you go? You know how Puck loves your company.”

They went out to the stable. Tenil had each horse’s meal already prepared; Kou went directly to the stall of his favorite mare. Puck whinnied in greeting, growing visibly excited by his presence. Kou gave her a breakfast of hay, supplemented with crushed oats. Puck grazed with every bit as much relish as Kou had eating his sausage and eggs. Kou wondered if perhaps the horse was as hungry as he was. It must be hell for them to sit in the stables in the morning with the smell of food in the air.

“I never could get her to eat as easily as you do. I can tell she gets disappointed when I come to feed her instead of you.”

Kou looked over his shoulder at Tenil. “It’s not that mysterious. I just treat her with respect, not like some dumb animal. Isn’t that right, my friend?” Kou playfully ruffled Puck’s mane.

He left the horse to her meal and walked over to clasp Tenil on the shoulder.

“I must return now or I’ll be late. Last time I stayed too long they had me lashed and gave me cleaning duty.”

“Good riddance, then,” Tenil replied with a chuckle. “When’s the ceremony again?”

“The elite’s trial is tomorrow and I heard the ceremony is in three days.”

“I’ll be there.”

“You had better. Bring Puck with you if you can. I’m sure she’d love to see.”

Tenil sighed. “You and that horse.”

Kou hugged Tenil and gave Puck a goodbye pat as he left.

Kou headed north from the village at a brisk walk and gradually sped up to a jog. The Cirnus Militia Academy of Ester wasn’t very far from the village itself, and Kou enjoyed making the journey on foot. It was relaxing to jog through the grassy fields on a clear late-summer morning like this one. The warm breeze carried the scent of wildflowers and the sun shone warm on his skin. The clear blue sky seemed to go on endlessly.

Less than an hour brought the academy within sight. No matter how many times Kou saw the academy it never failed to both impress and repulse him. Ester Academy was a large keep. Its nondescript gray stone wall looked dark even in the light of day. Above the gated archway hung the banner of the Cirnus Militia: A black circle on a red background with two swords crossed through the center, their hilts pointing southeast and southwest. The swords skewered a human skull, its hollow eye sockets staring out into space.

Kou suppressed a shiver. He could only imagine how much worse those cold, uninviting walls would look if they were closer to the village. Its rough gray stone would contrast greatly with the lovingly built oak houses of Ester. He was glad that whoever built this academy was considerate enough to place it a good distance from the village.

The guards recognized him immediately and allowed him to enter. The academy courtyard was like a small town. The ground was paved with brown cobblestone; darker colored cobbles formed paths that led to the different buildings. The place was abuzz with activity, though hardly crowded. Most of the cadets were still asleep.

Ahead of him lay the academy itself, a five story building where the studies were taught on the first and second floor. On the third floor were the quarters of the instructors and elite cadets, who got their own rooms rather than sleeping in the barracks which flanked the academy.

Climbing the front steps, Kou swung open the double doors and entered the lobby. Though the exterior of the academy was imposing and plain, the interior was an impressive sight. The lobby was large and spacious, taking up two full stories. The second floor was marked be a wide railed platform along the walls. Tapestries hung on all sides, depicting famous battles and late kings and queens.

A mural was painted on the ceiling, portraying the starlit night sky. A pair of large gray eyes was in the center. A magnificent silver sword with a golden bejeweled hilt laid across the eyes, as if supporting them. Encasing the sword and eyes was a dull blue translucent aura. Observing the mural as a whole, that aura formed a majestic angel. A pair of especially bright stars shown in the angel’s face where its eyes would be. The eyes and the sword were inside the angel’s chest.

This was a depiction of the Trinity, the three gods who were the strongest of the nine gods. The eyes were the symbol of Ethuliot, the Seeing Eyes. The sword was the symbol of Pyrfiene, the Cutting Blade, and the angel was Kinreol, the Persisting Spirit.

Kou smiled. He’d returned just in time for the start of the morning drills. A group of cadets were gathered in the middle of the lobby. Four men and two women. As he drew nearer one separated from the group to greet him. A young man with a lean build and short blond hair.

“Hey, buddy!” the man said cheerfully. “Went to see your old man, did you?”

“You know it, Lance,” Kou said as they clasped hands in greeting.

“You should’ve woken me and Ay,” Lance said. “You know how much we prefer his cooking to the academy gruel.”

“He’s still mad at you for flirting with his lover.”

Lance looked exasperated. “For the last time: She flirted with me! How was I to know she was taken? Tenil never introduced us!”

“Be that as it may,” Kou said, knowing better than to argue the point, “I think it’d be best if you stayed away from his house for at least a week. Then apologize.”

“For what?” Lance insisted. “I did nothing wrong!”

“You know how the old man is. It doesn’t matter who’s right or wrong. Once he’s upset with you he doesn’t change his mind.”

“We’ll be soldiers in three days so I don’t have a week to wait. Perhaps at the ceremony? I’d like to leave here on good terms with your uncle. He’s a good man, even if he is stubborn.”

“And loud, and vulgar, and a mediocre cook,” Kou added.

Lance chuckled. “Hey, you better get upstairs and change into uniform or Master Zeke will have you lashed again. You should have just enough time.”

“By the Blade, I forgot what I was wearing. Thanks, Lance!”

Kou ran across the hall, nearly crashing into some of the cadets. He sprinted up the stairs two at a time, running up past the second floor balcony. He didn‘t stop until he was in his bedroom on the third floor.

He hurriedly stripped out of his casual clothes and put on a cadet uniform. He checked himself at the mirror to make sure there weren’t any telltale signs of his rush that would bring the master’s wrath down on him. His reddish brown hair was a bit messy, but a few strokes of the brush remedied that. He noticed the first growths of a beard setting in, but he didn’t have time to shave.

No big deal, he decided. Luckily he had washed before he left for Ester and his uniform was a fresh one. An unremarkable set of brown leather pants, tunic, and boots. The insignia of the Cirnus Militia was patched to his left breast, much like the one displayed at the academy entrance.

Satisfied with his appearance, he rushed out of his room, practically slamming the door behind him. Just as he reached the stairs he heard the sound of a door opening.

Oh damn! He desperately ran down the stairs with no regard for his pace. Falling and breaking his neck would be more pleasant than being caught late by Master Zeke again. He reached the lobby and took his place, panting, among his fellow elite cadets.

“By Acuma, Kou, you look like you took the drills ahead of us,” a freckled, red-headed girl commented, looking at him. Small spectacles hung precariously from her slender nose.

“I nearly got caught, Ayla,” Kou said between breaths. “I just hope he didn’t see me.”

“Well you better compose yourself or he will know it was you!” Ayla warned. Kou took her advice and did his best to catch his breath. He achieved some semblance of normal breathing before the masters arrived.

Two people entered the lobby. A man in a leather uniform similar to the cadets’, and a women in flowing black robes. The man was tall and muscular, with long black hair that came down to his shoulders. He had a jagged scar below his left eye, stretching across his cheek to beneath his left ear. The insignia of the Cirnus Militia was patched to his left breast, but with one distinction: Three curved spikes protruded from the insignia like rolling ocean waves. They were an indication of rank. Three spikes marked him a master.

The woman next to him had the same patch on her robes. She wore three jeweled rings on her fingers, two on her left hand and one on her right. A silver pendant hung around her neck. She wore her blond hair in a tight bun, allowing only two braided locks to fall over her shoulders.

“Masters Zeke and Lucilla,” all seven elite cadets said in unison, saluting them.

Zeke stood with his arms folded across his chest and Lucilla stood beside him looking darkly at them all.

They know! Kou panicked, trying to stay calm.

“I saw someone retreat down the stairs as Zeke and I left our rooms,” Lucilla said. “I didn’t see exactly who, but I know it was one of you. Speak up now!”

All seven remained silent and still as statues.

Zeke started pacing before them, looking each cadet in the eyes as he passed. “You know that the Militia doesn’t condone tardiness of even the slightest degree. In a real situation, those few minutes you’re late for your post are a few minutes in which a spy can slip into our midst unchallenged.”

God dammit, Kou cursed. He’s not going to stop until someone is punished. His stomach lurched at the thought of who that someone would be. Zeke stopped in front of a cadet, a tall man with short black hair.

“Anything to say, Dirk?” Zeke asked. Dirk hesitated, then jerked his head to the side, in Kou‘s direction.

Bastard! Kou shouted in his head. Now he’ll know it was me. Curse you, Dirk! Pyrfiene cut you down!

Kou’s mind raced as Zeke walked towards him. He can’t punish me; he has no proof. Even if he suspects me, I’m dressed, clean, composed and ready. He can’t prove it was me so he can’t rightfully punish!

Master Zeke stopped in front of Kou and looked him up and down. Kou’s heart pounded under the scrutiny but he managed to stay composed. He stood straight and calm, as if sure of his innocence. For a moment he thought he’d actually gotten away with it. Then Zeke stared him dead in the eyes. Those piercing blue eyes were as cold as ice. Kou’s confidence began to waver.

Then Zeke found the single most damning piece of evidence. He reached out and gently brushed Kou’s cheek, feeling the coarse bristles of newly grown facial hair.

“I see you didn’t shave this morning,” Zeke said in an even tone. “In a hurry?”

“Ya--yes sir!” Kou stammered, cursing himself for looking less than confident.

“I see, and what were you doing that caused you to be late? Be truthful, cadet, or you shall be doubly punished.”

“My uncle, sir,” Kou said. “I visited him this morning to tell him the news.”

“Insufficient,” Zeke said. “I personally penned and sent out letters notifying all of the cadets’ families of the impending graduation. Your uncle likely got his a week ago at least. Was there any other reason you had to see him? Any at all?”

Kou knew he had to be truthful, but he was sure he’d be punished even more if he said “well sir, I left because the food here stinks,” so he held the comment in.

“No sir,” he said instead.

“So you left without good reason, and came back late to boot?”

“Yes sir.”

Zeke took a step back and his right hand dropped to a strip of leather at his side.

By the Blade, not the lash! Please, not the lash!

Zeke drew the lash from his side and unrolled it. The other cadets hastily backed away from Kou, getting out of whipping distance.

“On your knees and remove your tunic,” Zeke said.

Kou reluctantly obeyed. He fell to his knees and stripped off his tunic, waiting bare-chested for his punishment.

Zeke moved to stand behind him. “Just because you graduate soon doesn’t mean that you can start slacking off!”

The master brought the lash down with a terrible crack. Kou groaned in pain. The lash came down again, like a bolt of lightning across his back.

Zeke slowly walked in a circle around Kou. “You must set a worthy example for the other cadets. What example are you setting now?” The lash came crashing down again. Kou cried out in pain. Two more lashes of the lash nearly reduced him to his hands.

“This is not a game,” Zeke said. He brought the lash down again. Kou scream, his pulse racing.

You spiteful freak! Kou cursed. You’re mad because I nearly beat you in a fair fight. You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?

“I do this for your sake,” Zeke said, as if reading his thoughts. He raised his voice to be heard by all. “This is war, people! Consider yourselves lucky. If you mess up here you get off with a mere lashing, but in the real world your mistakes could cost you your lives!”

With that, he brought the lash down with thrice the force. Kou’s scream resounded off the walls.

“You’re dead,” Zeke said. “Now get up and rejoin the others. Don’t slip up again!”

Kou stood up, resisting the urge to glare at Zeke. He put his tunic back on and stood within the group of elite cadets. His back ached. His pulse still raced.

“You ok, buddy?” Lance whispered.

“Yeah,” Kou lied.

Master Lucilla ordered them to form a straight line. “The drills start now,” She said. “Afterwards the elites’ final test will be revealed. I bet you’re all dying to know what it is.”

“Now out, into the fields!” Zeke said.

The late morning sun shone hot on the cadets as they performed their drills in the fields outside the academy walls. They started with stretches and exercises ranging from jogging to pushups to lifting heavy weights. After a small rest period they were paired for sparring. They were given wooden swords to practice with.

Lance was paired to a woman with long black hair that came down in braids. Her dark-brown skin and hawkish facial features marked her as a Tiernan, a race of long-lived humans who ruled the land of Nylsia. She held her wooden sword as grimly as if it were real.

“Hey, babe,” Lance said with a crooked smile. “I promise to go easy on you if you do me a ‘favor’ after hours.”

The cadet glowered at him. “Pig! For the last time, I have a name; it’s Zinnia, and I’m taken so don’t even bother, you oversexed donkey!”

“By who? That guy, Sym, sparring with Master Zeke?”

“You know damn well who. Shin.”

Lance laughed. “Oh, the arrogant fool who thinks he’s a god because he can perform magicians’ parlor tricks. Why don’t you get rid of that sissy and get yourself a big strong man?”

“Like you?” Zinnia spat.

“You could do worse.”

“Yes, I could marry a toad. Are you going to hit on me all day or are we going to spar? You have no idea how much I want to thrash you now.”

“You’re hot when you talk dirty like that.” Lance chuckled.

Zinnia’s patience snapped. She rushed Lance, brandishing her practice blade. The two exchanged blows, swinging and parrying, their movements graceful and calculated. Lance blocked a downward swing. Zinnia pushed her blade against his, trying to overpower him.

“How in Orionus’ name did you become a cadet at all, much less make elite?”

“You mean you don‘t know by now?” Lance said. “Let me show you, then.”

Lance sidestepped and tripped Zinnia up. She fell, colliding face-first with the ground. She sat up and glared at him.

Lance chuckled. “Because I know how to get into people’s heads. Half of a swordfight is in the head. Because I got you mad, you gave me more careless openings than I can count. Not that you aren’t cute when you’re angry and your cheeks are all puffy.”

Zinnia stood up, shaking with barely suppressed rage.

“See, you play right into my hands,” Lance said. “Now let me show you why else I’m an elite.”

Lance held his wooden sword in front of him so the blade extended over his nose and forehead. He focused, tapping into his inner pool of magic to shape the spell. The blade caught the sun and flashed with light, half-blinding Zinnia. When she moved to cover her eyes, Lance placed his blade to her neck.

“You’re dead, my pretty,” Lance said.

Zinnia’s eyes narrowed. She dropped her sword and grabbed Lance’s arm. She swiftly spun behind him and gave his arm a painful jerk; he reflexively dropped his sword. Lance’s feet were tripped and he soon found himself flipped onto his belly, his face in the dirt.

“But you also underestimate your opponent,” Zinnia said. “You didn’t even think that I may have some tricks of my own.”

Zinnia walked away. Now it was her turn to smile.

Kou was ironically paired with Dirk as his sparring partner. Kou smiled. He needed a release for his anger. He resented Zeke for whipping him, but he would be just as satisfied taking it out on the man who sold him out.

“You really are a jealous snake, aren’t you?” Kou said.

“It’s not my fault you can’t follow the rules,” Dirk shot back. “If you don’t want to get whipped, get here on time! Maybe you should stop seeing that senile old man altogether if it’s going to get you in trouble.”

“I didn’t mean that,” Kou scoffed. “You were once considered the best swordsman in the academy before I came along and challenged Master Zeke. Are you jealous, Dirk? Is that why you always find ways to get me in trouble like you did today? Don’t think I never noticed.”

“How dare you?” Dirk shouted.

“Am I right?”

“Does it matter if you are?”

Kou smiled. “You just answered my question.”

Kou made the first move. He rushed in and swung, swiftly retreating as Dirk retaliated. The two faced each other, neither gaining or losing ground. Kou was good at reading body language. He could tell from the position Dirk held his blade and how his muscles tensed that he was going to thrust, and Kou was ready for it. He sidestepped the thrust and swung on Dirk’s hand before he could pull back. The blade made contact with the fingers.

“You just lost your hand,” Kou said.

The veins in Dirk’s neck bulged. He glared at Kou and made a wild swing, only to find himself tripped and falling face first to the ground. Kou stepped on his back to prevent him from rising.

“And now you’re dead,” Kou said mockingly. “You really should learn to control your temper.”

Kou removed his foot from Dirk’s back, allowing him to roll over.

“Someday, Kou!” Dirk snarled. “Someday I’m going to have your head on my wall!”

“Idle threats will get you nowhere. Come back when you have the skill to back them up.”

Kou turned and walked away.

As those who worked with swords sparred, so did those who worked with magic. Ayla sparred with the only other mage to make elite: A young man with long hair, dyed white.

“Ready?” the cadet said.

Ayla nodded. “Yes, Shin. You‘re going down this time!”

“I doubt that,” Shin said. “Judging from the last time we sparred I’ll be lucky if you even make me break a sweat. Do give it your best anyway, though. I’ll make sure to properly note your effort.”

You pompous ass, Ayla cursed as she and Shin sat cross-legged in front of each other. Master Lucilla sat beside them, watching intently as the two cadets cleared their minds, drifting into a state of meditation. When they were ready, Ayla and Shin placed a hand in Lucilla’s and surrendered their consciousness to the spell their master was casting. A spell to link their minds together.

The world bent and twisted around them. The sky darkened; the clouds turned from white to deep violet. The grassy field turned into a barren wasteland of gray rock as far as the eye could see. The trees toppled and turned to dust. The academy, and all the other cadets, disappeared.

Lucilla stood up. Ayla and Shin followed her lead.

“We are now in the dreamland,” Lucilla said. “All that happens here is only an illusion, though the spells you use will still drain your energy. Defeat goes to the first one to exhaust all magic, die, or submit. Begin!”

Ayla and Shin took the customary seven paces away from each other. Master Lucilla withdrew from their line of fire, an aloof observer.

Ayla and Shin stared at each other, each waiting for the other to make the first move.

“Ladies first,” Shin said. “It’s the genteel thing to do, after all.”

Ayla scowled. Dropping into a state of meditation, she coaxed the magic inside of her. She felt the energy, like warm water flowing over her skin. This was called the “inner pool” of magic. Tapping into this spring of power, she coaxed the magic to shape itself to her will. Her hands burst into flames. With a swift motion she sent two bolts of enchanted fire flying at Shin.

Shin raised his left hand, bowed his head, and closed his eyes. The fire bolts fizzled out before they could reach him. He raised his head and smiled mockingly.

“Seriously, Ayla,” Shin said. “There is more to being a mage than blowing things up, and there are more ways to crush your enemies than with brute force. Observe!”

Shin moved his hands in complex patterns. His fingers left lines of glowing blue light as they swept through the air, as if his hands were dipped in paint and brushing over a solid canvas. When he was done a large, intricate rune-letter floated in the air, shining incandescently.

“A rune spell?” Ayla exclaimed. Rune Magic was one of the three branches of sorcery, and Shin had just drawn one of the Twelve Principal Runes: Humainus, the water rune.

“Humainus!” Shin shouted. He placed his hand on the very center of the rune and it faded into nothing.

The air around Ayla became humid. So much that it felt like she was underwater. An odor suffused the air that made her choke and gave her the urge to retch. She felt dizzy and lightheaded. The world became a hazy, spinning blur. She felt her strength giving out as the rune spell suffocated her.

Shin turned to face Lucilla. “I believe we can safely say that I’ve won our little match. I could benefit from a more skilled partner, master. This silly little girl just can’t keep up with me.”

“Where did you learn that?” Lucilla demanded. “This is nothing I ever taught.”

Shin shrugged. “Extracurricular activities. I normally don’t make my private studies known, but since I’ll be graduating so soon I thought my last sparring match may as well be interesting.”

“Shin!” Ayla gasped. “We’re not finished yet!”

Gathering her wits, Ayla motioned with her hands much like Shin did, weaving a rune-letter in the air before her.

“Ahiurman!” she shouted. The air around her became breathable once again. She gratefully gasped for breath.

“How did you learn that?” Shin shouted incredulously.

“You’re not the only one with ‘extracurricular activities,’” Ayla shot back.

Shin spat to his side. “Well let’s try this again, shall we? This time something a bit more ... advanced.”

Gesturing swiftly, Shin drew two rune-letters in the air. He reached into a pouch at his side and drew a small human-shaped clay figurine. He threw the figurine onto the ground, where it shattered into bits.

“Vaal! Beskala!” Shin shouted.

The runes disappeared, only to reappear on the ground, surrounding the broken pieces of the figurine. The pieces exploded and became a large cloud of gray smoke. Rising to Shin’s height, the smoke took the shape of a human and solidified, becoming solid rock.

“Acuma’s light!” Lucilla swore. “A summoning!”

The rock golem stood still, awaiting its master’s command. Shin pointed at Ayla.

“Kill her!” he shouted. The creature came to life and walked towards its victim.

“You underestimate me,” Ayla said. She drew the rune of Humainus in the air, then reached into her pouch and produced a small vial of water.

“Humainus!” she shouted as she threw the water through the rune. Upon striking the golem, the vial shattered. The water dissolved the creature’s body. Before it could reach her, the golem melted into a puddle of mud.

“How did you do that?” Shin shouted.

“You don’t get it, do you?” Ayla said. “Rune magic is formidable if you know how to do it, but using the Twelve Principal Runes by themselves has one major flaw: Each one has an opposite that can dispel it, and I know all twelve of them. Now let me show you magic that has no easy counter.”

Ayla tapped into her inner pool of magic, coaxing her energy into the shape of a spell. Her whole body began to glow with a dull red light. She slowly raised her arms above her head, as if beckoning something to rise. The earth rumbled. Chains burst through the ground and wrapped themselves around Shin’s legs, chest, neck and arms. Shin tried to struggle, but the chains held him fast.

“You bitch!” Shin spat. “I won’t lose to a woman!”

Ayla sneered at him. “By Acuma, you’re even more of a pig than Lance. Just submit and get it over with.”

Shin shook his head stubbornly, struggling against his bonds to no avail.

“What? No attempt at counter magic?” Ayla said. “Don’t tell me rune spells are all you’ve been studying? By the gods, man! What happens when you can’t use your hands, like now? You’re completely damned.”

“She is correct,” Lucilla chimed in. “There are three schools of magic: Channeling, Rune Magic, and Mentalism. Even if you decide to become a Rune Mage, Shin, it’s always wise to be well versed in other magics.” She looked at Ayla. “Congratulations, Ayla, the match is yours. If I may say so, you are a natural born channeler.”

“It’s not over!” Shin screamed furiously. “I can still fight!”

“Oh dear, you’re right,” Ayla said mockingly. “I must learn to finish the things I start.”

Ayla channeled more of her magic into the chains, commanding them to grip Shin tighter. He struggled to the bitter end, but was soon strangled to unconsciousness.

The world shifted around them. The air became bright with sunlight and the clouds turned white once again. The gray wasteland became a grassy field, and they could hear the sounds of the cadets training and smell the dewy grass. They were once again sitting cross-legged on the ground, the academy looming aside them in the distance.

Ayla fell over sideways, exhausted from spending so much magic. She felt a strong urge to simply lie there and fall sleep. Shin fell backwards, suffering from that same exhaustion. Lucilla sat still and patiently waited for them to recover.

Shin shook his head groggily. “You beat me?” When he recovered the energy to be angry, he snarled at Ayla. “Beaten by a woman?”

“Oh grow up, Shin,” Ayla snapped. “That mentality died two hundred years ago. You lost, ‘to a woman,’ now take it like a man!”

“Silence, wench!” Shin shouted, some of the cadets looked at him. “I do not lose!”

“You just did,” Ayla shouted back. “Everyone loses sometimes. Get over it, you sniveling brat!”

Shin screamed in rage. His voice boomed and reverberated as if spoken through a horn. Everyone--cadets, elite cadets, and masters--turned to stare at Shin, startled. Master Lucilla and Ayla got to their feet and stepped back cautiously. Shin pounded his fist on the ground and the very earth trembled.

“What the hell’s going on?” Lance shouted, looking around in disbelief.

As the earth shook, some cadets lost their footing and fell. Ayla almost fell, but Lucilla grabbed her and kept her steady. When the tremor subsided Ayla was shocked to find Master Zeke standing right beside her, as if he had suddenly materialized out of thin air.

“What happened?” Zeke asked. Ayla couldn’t tell if he was referring to her or Master Lucilla.

But it was Lucilla who answered. “It would be easier if I showed you, Zeke.”

They stared into each other’s eyes intently. Ayla knew enough about Mentalism to know that this was an exchange of thoughts. Lucilla was mentally showing Zeke everything that had happened in their sparring match. When it was over, Zeke looked at Shin and snorted in disgust.

“He’s too prideful and ambitious,” Zeke said. “That makes him impetuous and stupid.”

“Master!” Shin exclaimed, clearly galled at being talked about as if he were not there.

“Silence!” Zeke shouted as he struck him across the face. Lucilla touched Shin on the shoulder and he fell unconscious to the ground.

“Ayla, join your fellows.” Zeke said.

Ayla nodded and swiftly left to stand with the other elite cadets.

Lucilla waited until Ayla was out of earshot.

“This troubles me,” she said softly. “Shin shouldn’t be able to cause a quake at all, especially after all the magic he spent sparring with Ayla. This makes no sense.”

“I was thinking that too,” Zeke said. “Perhaps Shin will be able to explain when he wakes up.”

“I hope so. Perhaps we should hold him until he does?”

Zeke shook his head. “No. The papers have already been penned, signed, and delivered. We can’t rightfully hold him from his graduation without good cause, and this isn’t enough.”

“What are we to do then?” Lucilla asked.

“Shin must be punished,” Zeke said. “Aside from that our hands are tied. We can’t force him to reveal any personal secrets, assuming there are any to be told. Leave him there. He can rejoin the cadets when he wakes up.”

“I don’t like this,” Lucilla said. “I don’t like this at all.”