Viera sat slumped in the half-dark, one arm hugging the small keg beside her. She tipped the mug against her lips, but little more than a trickle slid down her throat. Her tongue was already too numb to taste it.

  The door creaked open.

  “Goddess above, Viera.” A familiar voice. Alver’s. Unbearably content, as always. He crossed the room and shoved the window wide. Harsh noon light stabbed her eyes.

  She hissed and turned away. “Close it, you bastard.”

  “You didn’t come yesterday,” he said instead, ignoring her. His tone was clipped, but beneath it she could hear the disappointment. “That meeting was not optional.”

  “Think I care?” she slurred, slamming her mug down hard enough that it cracked along the rim. “You think any of it matters?”

  Alver just sighed, looking at her with that insufferable patience of his. Once her comrade, now her superior. “I never thought I’d see you like this. Anyone, but you.”

  “Don’t you dare—”

  “If you have no will to live,” he cut in, voice low, “then at least go out with a blast rather than waste away like this.”

  The words landed like a blow. Viera opened her mouth to retort, but nothing came aside from retching. Her throat burned instead.

  Alver left, the door closing soft behind him.

  She sat there, shaking, mug clutched tight in her hands until her knuckles blanched. Her daughters’ faces swam before her eyes.

  I’ll never see them again.

  She lifted the keg to chug straight from it. It was just as empty as her mug.

  “GIVE ME A BREAK!” Viera screamed as she struck the table with all her might. The shoddy thing broke into pieces, clattering all around.

  It’s all because of Hiveo. Romuald. The council.

  One was dead, the other two untouchable. She cursed, pushed herself upright, and nearly toppled before catching the wall.

  No one to take revenge on.

  She kicked the empty keg away as she picked off the splinters from her hand.

  “Eh,” she muttered to herself. “I’ll buy another. Alver won’t tell me what to do.”

  And with the light stabbing her bloodshot eyes, she staggered toward the door.

  David found Diana exactly where he expected her—on the bench by the noble gate. Her mask caught the early rays of dawn and scattered them.

  What he didn’t expect were the others. Lia lounged against the bench with her arms crossed, her heel knocking rhythmically against the stone. Olen stood near, trying to keep perfect posture and failing due to restlessness.

  “Lady Diana,” David bowed his head slightly, unsure how to talk to her in front of other commoners. “I hope you were not waiting long.”

  “Not at all. We were having a pleasant chat before your arrival, did we not?” She smiled at the ever-more nervous Olen.

  “Y-Yes, milady!” The boy who had swallowed a broom answered at once.

  “Are we all skipping Mr. Rafiel’s lessons then? Pardon my assumption, but Lia, you’re not exactly ahead on runes, are you?” David voiced his worries.

  “You’re saying I’m stupid?” The unbothered commoner girl flashed a grin. “Brave words for someone a head shorter than me.”

  This is going to be a headache.

  Olen winced, then straightened. “Lady Diana promised us a tutor,” he said quickly. “A proper one. I… I’ll catch up too.”

  Of course she did. Diana rose in the same smooth motion she used for everything, as if gravity worked differently for nobles.

  “Now, now. There will be time to chat later. Now that we’re all here,” she said, “let’s get going.”

  The corridors of the academy swallowed sound as they stepped into a small room near the entrance, with runes pulsing faintly along the walls.

  Somewhere behind the stone, a crashing sound resonated and the platform trembled underfoot as it began to rise.

  Is this a… lift? The room seemed like a box of solid stone. Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t spy the mechanism making it move.

  Diana waved her hand, getting everyone’s attention. “After our first year, we will enter war-games,” she said as the floors slid by. “Mostly skirmishes, but also patrols, sieges, ambushes. You will be forced to choose a team to cooperate with.”

  “Finally something that sounds fun!” Lia cheered. “All those lectures were starting to stress me out.”

  “Are we t-to join your team, Lady Diana?” Olen asked, with hope in his voice and a soft stutter.

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  “It all depends.” Diana smirked. “I will be leading a team on my own, and I have deemed the three of you worthy of being the core members. Though, whether you can keep up with the training is another thing entirely.”

  The lift thumped into place on the second floor, revealing yet another corridor.

  Following Diana, they eventually entered a chamber that would have made their classroom look like a closet. Smooth stone stretched under high slits of light. Weapon racks and padded dummies lined the walls. And a man, sitting on one of the benches.

  David stopped just inside the threshold, taking it in. They’d refused him a laboratory so small it would have barely fit a table and a chair, and yet she had this.

  “Nobles are something else…” David didn’t realize he’d spoken until he heard his own voice.

  Diana’s head tilted, the mask catching a second slice of light. “I assure you not every noble can secure something like this,” she said, a hint of pride in her voice.

  She moved forward before he could say more. The man approached her with a respectful bow—tall, with sharp features. David immediately didn’t like him. He reminded him of …

  “This is Zerik Kira,” Diana said. “If you agree to participate, he will be the one to train us.”

  The man inclined his head. “Zerik Kira,” he said. The words were measured, unhurried. “Knight. I specialize in small-unit skirmishes and hunting rogue mages.”

  Kira.

  The family name hit David like a hammer to the head. For a heartbeat, Calland’s voice echoed in the room. He forced his shoulders to settle.

  He tried to remember Calland’s memories, but they were blurry and the rapist had many brothers. At least, David was sure Zerik wasn’t anyone notable in Calland’s life.

  Hopefully he’d be more normal.

  Lia had already stepped in, eyes bright. “Hunting mages,” she repeated, almost gleeful. “So if I became an outlaw after academy, you’d come for me?”

  “Unlikely,” Zerik said with a shrug. “I leave minor targets to my subordinates.” He shut her down instantly, but that didn’t make her grin any smaller.

  Lia continued asking questions, as if deliberately trying to get a rise out of Zerik, while Olen seemed to be gathering courage to join their conversation.

  Soon, questions tumbled over one another, the two of them drawing close like children around a traveling performer.

  Diana looked upon them fondly and David eased back a step, matching her position. He tilted his head upwards and lowered his voice. “Do I have to be part of this?”

  For the briefest instant, something flickered under her tone. “I hoped you would be,” she said. “It is… important to me.”

  He stared out across the room again. The list of things he needed and wouldn’t get without Diana’s help was growing by the day.

  “This is a great opportunity,” he said. “It must have come at quite the cost.”

  She let out the smallest breath, the curve of her shoulders never changing. “What is it that you’re implying?”

  He swallowed. “This puts me squarely at your side for as long as we’re here.”

  “On our side,” she corrected gently.

  “Assuming I agree,” he said, “I’ll need your help with a few things in return.”

  “Of course.”

  “I don’t like debts.”

  “I know,” she said, her tone tense, but amiable. “I take good care of my friends.”

  Friends. I’ve played these games before.

  It was such an easy lie to weave. And yet, so enticing. He stood there, probably just a second, but in his head, a war of thought was waged.

  Do I trust her not to abuse me, or do I not? If things go south, will I be able to walk away?

  In the end, I ‘won’ against Viera and Hiveo, didn't I? Worst case scenario will be just a bit more of the same.

  He finally nodded once. “All right. I’ll take your word for it.”

  Diana didn’t move, but David could swear she seemed calmer somehow. “Good,” she said. “Then let’s begin.”

  Once Diana gave the go-ahead, Zerik didn’t waste any time. He moved to the racks, dragging David and the three teenagers after him.

  “First, weapons,” he said. “Every soldier carries at least one, and in the field you are soldiers before you are anything else. Mage, artificer, merchant—it makes no difference when someone is pummeling you with steel.”

  “Olen, you want to be a proper knight, so I’ll drill you in all the common weapons. You’ll start with a bastard sword, though.”

  Olen stepped forward before Zerik even finished speaking. The boy’s hand went straight to the knightly weapon, starry-eyed as he lifted it from the rack. He carried it with surprisingly little effort.

  Lia wandered up next, tapping her chin in mock deliberation. “So which one’s the best for me?”

  “There is no best,” Zerik said. “But a long hatchet will suit you just right. You have the temperament for it.”

  She ignored the lecture and plucked her weapon from the wall. She swung it twice in lazy arcs, the edge humming faintly through the air. Her grin widened, teeth bright.

  “Ten rounds around the room for swinging your weapon carelessly. You didn’t even check if it was blunted.” Zerik ordered with mild amusement.

  “WHAT!?” Lia protested, looking to Diana for support. “I was just testing it out!”

  “Do you have trouble following orders, perhaps?” Diana mused, seemingly disinterested.

  As Lia paled and started running, it was time for Zerik’s attention to land on David.

  “You’re too small for most weapons,” Zerik said, turning to him. “But you’ll grow soon. Let’s start you off with a shortsword.”

  David glanced at the racks. Blades, axes, spears. All larger than he wanted to imagine himself dragging around. “I’m… mostly aiming to be an artificer. Wouldn’t I be better off with tools than weapons?”

  Zerik’s expression didn’t shift. “Tools do not matter when someone like me closes the distance. Do you plan to drop to your knees and wait for the end?”

  For a heartbeat, David could imagine it. If he was at least as strong as Viera, and by all accounts he seemed stronger, even going all out, David would survive a few seconds at most.

  “I’ve trained unarmed,” David tried to keep at least a shred of his pride intact, rubbing at his palm. “Maybe I could use something like iron knuckles?”

  Zerik barked a short laugh. “That’s suicide. Short range puts you on the offensive, when you should be buying time and gaining distance. But beyond that…”

  With a quick move, Zerik stepped closer to him, and before David could blink, his back was already hitting the ground.

  It didn’t hurt nearly as much as it should, enchanted floor and all that, but David’s face burned all the same.

  “You don’t have to worry about switching styles, kid.” Zerik said as he offered him a hand. “You don’t have one yet. As I said, a shortsword should be fine.”

  There was no more wind in David’s sails. Without a word, he took the prescribed weapon. Though it was a bit long for his size, it wasn’t heavy at all.

  With all three combatants armed, David expected Zerik to go straight into their training, but instead, he turned to Diana to help her pick a weapon for herself.

  Is she going to… Fight with us?

  David just couldn’t imagine the stoic noblegirl screaming and grunting with a weapon in hand.

  “Lady Diana, you should really consider a more elegant weapon. Someone of your station–”

  “My patience is running thin, Zerik.” Diana interrupted him. “Give me that mace.”