Three Months Later

  Pain shot through my calves as I pushed up the last slope of our ten-mile morning run, sweat dripping from my brow. Mel, perpetually out in front, hollered over her shoulder, “Come on, you lumps of driftwood! Keep up if you want to stand a chance in the trial!”

  I forced a short laugh, panting. We’d done this every day for three months. Instead of cool classes about monsters, fighting mages, and ancient history, I was forced to have the schedule of an army grunt. Each day we’d have a predawn wake-up call, which then led to grueling physical exercises, a relentless run under the coastal sun, and more exhausting drills. Hand-to-hand combat sessions left my body aching, while basic classes in math, writing, and reading filled the afternoons. At least I breezed through the academic lessons—my old life gave me a serious advantage with numbers and words. I also heavily benefited from the fact that Fern’s reading skills transferred to me.

  Tevin jogged behind me, lugging a weighted vest that looked laughably undersized on his huge frame. He was catching his breath; even after a month of training, the ten miles never got easier for the huge teen. He was a monster when it came to weight lifting and wrestling, but the more agile and cardio-requiring exercises winded him quickly. Sora trailed him, cheeks flushed, trying not to slow too much. The girl had really grown to stand on her own in the last few months. We hardly got time to visit or mingle with the other houses, so Sora had to keep moving so she wouldn’t be left behind. It also didn’t hurt that every time she saw Rinka, her sister was looking more and more like a warrior. It motivated Sora, to say the least. Silas huffed alongside them, mechanical arm glinting. He was well used to it by now. Sometimes we’d joke that he liked his mechanical arm more than his real one. Luna ran next to me. The girl always kept my pace and never got tired. Fern thought that she could beat Mel in a race, but I was yet to be convinced.

  ‘You know we could outrun her AND Mel if you let me help more . . .’ Fern prodded in my head.

  No, we’re not risking that, I shot back, ignoring the twinge of temptation. We can’t draw attention right now.

  After we finally slogged through the last mile, we spilled into the attached gym of House Anu.

  “Water time!” Silas croaked, heading for a stone fountain carved into the wall before anyone else could. He ran over and turned a small crystal nob, which hummed before cold water poured out from a small tap, filling the fountain. Silas grabbed a small glass cup from the side and filled it, downing the fresh water.

  We’d been taught in the first few days that the academy ran on energy currents that traveled through these crystal points. Each one was cut and tuned to perform a separate task, and all of the energy was tied to the pillar. It was like the walls and structure of the pillar were all part of one big battery. The feat was incredible, and sometimes, when I let myself get carried away, I would think about the engineering and technology behind the whole operation for hours. It was one of the many topics I had put a mental note down to research later when I had more time.

  Tevin huffed and stumbled his way to the fountain, pushing Silas and other recruits out of the way to get his water. He plunged his head into the filled fountain and began chugging the water. The other recruits around the room let out annoyed groans.

  “Eww, come on, Tevin! Just get a glass! Now it’s all tainted with your sweat,” said one boy standing in line.

  Mel laughed at them. “Pathetic,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I need more than water to satisfy a champion like me.”

  Sora managed a smile after catching her breath. “Breakfast does sound good,” she mumbled.

  An hour later, we were all showered and dressed in our crisp black-and-gold uniforms. But now, we each sported a maroon sash at the waist—a small upgrade to our already stylish uniforms, marking us as official House Anu recruits. The routine had become second nature: run, shower, uniform, then gather for morning inspection. Only afterward were we released to then follow the day’s schedule—hand-to-hand combat drills out in the training yard, basic academics in the academy classrooms, and then returning for more physical drills. By the end of three months, our thirty recruits in House Anu dwindled down to fifteen. No one died or anything terrible, but the training conditions Waelid had us partake in were draining. The ones who dropped out were probably now having a relaxing time in Ash and not going to bed with their muscles shaking in protest.

  Today, however, we graduated from the basics. Today was the start of the fall term and the beginning of our journey as true Cinders. Now we would take the classes I had been wanting.

  I breathed in a deep breath of excitement as we converged in the lounge by House Anu’s exit. Silas was dripping clear liquid into his mechanical arm, while Tevin was munching on muffins Ol’ Mumm had slipped him. The big bear-woman had a soft spot for Tevin but always acted grumpy around the rest of us.

  “All right, recruits! Fall semester is here!” Waelid said. He stood in front of us in his typical dramatic way. “I’ve hammered your physical training for a three months. Sure, we’ve lost some members, but that’s okay! We are stronger without them. Today marks the day you take the first relevant classes to being a Cinder. You’ll start to decide which weapon course you’ll master, you’ll learn about survival and the intricacies of runic applications, as well as learn about the mysteries of Cinders in the past and the history of the pillar. If you thought your time with me was hard, get ready for actual tough classes. Pay attention, we have the first trial of your schooling soon. Everything you learn is relevant for that.” He waved a theatrical hand. “Move out, kids. Don’t be late. I won’t be guiding you every day.”

  “You hammered us too much,” Mel mumbled as she brought her hands behind her head and walked out the door lazily. “I want real combat training, not just endless running.”

  “Then maybe you’ll enjoy today’s class, you savage,” Silas said, inciting a swift punch in the arm from her. “Ow!”

  “You asked for it, gear head.”

  Luna hovered near the doorway, pushing her black hair behind one ear. She gave me swift nod. “I can’t believe we all stuck with it. I really didn’t think Silas would . . . I’m . . . surprised?”

  I tilted my head in confusion. “What do you mean? Silas is tough. Kid lost an arm and is still smiling through.”

  “Hmm, maybe. But I think it’s because of you, Erik,” Luna said, looking at me intently with her almost amber-colored eyes.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  “Umm . . . I don’t know about that,” I said, my face getting red. I rubbed the back of my head and walked outside with Luna following closely behind.

  Meanwhile, inside my head, Fern gave an exasperated sigh:

  ‘Finally. Maybe we’ll learn something entertaining.’

  You better count yourself lucky you don’t have to feel the effects of all this physical labor.

  ‘I do! Thanks for working out my body so much, we look great!’ Fern laughed so loud it sounded like it echoed inside my head the whole way to class. I drowned him out and focused on enjoying the bright midmorning sun.

  The academy’s main halls were larger than most cathedrals back on Earth. Grand arches soared overhead, with stained glass windows tinted in warm golds and reds. The corridor leading to our designated classroom teemed with recruits from other houses, each wearing distinct sashes to set them apart. At one point we passed by Lucius, who wore the green sash of House Enlil. He, as expected, ignored us and quickly walked with his housemates to their classroom. Sora made a spot-on impression of him and we laughed about it until we found the room for our first class of the fall semester. An oval, wooden door with a small placard read: Combat and Tactics: Captain Hopsander.

  We stepped inside, hearts pounding with curiosity. The space was massive for just a single class. Rows of seats curved around a central stage, high chandeliers with snow-white crystals illuminated polished floors, and tapestries depicting ancient battles draped the walls. A chalkboard stood to one side, half covered by a cloth.

  At the front, we saw Hopsander calmly adjusting a large cart draped in canvas. He turned as we arrived, offering a wide grin. “Morning, children. About time I see you five again.”

  I gave him a huge grin and Sora even ran up to the frog-man to give him a big hug.

  “It’s been too long, Hopsander!” she said with a big smile. He patted her head with his webbed hand and directed her to sit down.

  The six of us took seats in the front row near the stage. Others filled in behind us: a handful of House Anu recruits we didn’t know well. Once all fifteen were sat, Hopsander closed the door.

  ‘So few left . . .’ Fern said.

  It’s no wonder. This place is tough. I haven’t ever worked out this much. If I didn’t have to get stronger to find Noah, I would have called it quits long ago.

  Hopsander puffed out a quiet breath. “We’ve hammered your bodies and minds into shape for three months. Now let’s talk about real combat. The kind you need explicit training for. The kind you develop a love for. The kind where you choose a weapon that not only feels right to you, but that even the universe agrees is YOUR weapon. But what happens when your weapon is ripped away from you?” Hopsander yanked the cloth off the cart, revealing a pile of plain wooden staffs of varying lengths and thicknesses. “A situation may strip you of your beloved weapon,” he said, his deep voice carrying through the massive training hall. “Then what?” He gestured toward the sticks. “Adapt. That’s the lesson.”

  Mel leaned forward, crossing her arms. “But I prefer my claw,” she said, tapping the empty holster at her waist. Hopsander had required us to leave personal weapons in the dorms for this lesson. My own neck felt strange without the familiar weight of Lightcutter.

  “Aye, but life won’t always indulge your preference,” Hopsander continued. “You must learn that any object, in the right hands, can be lethal. A table leg. A broken broom handle. A branch snapped from a tree. The staff is the simplest weapon and one of the deadliest.” He ran a webbed hand over the cart of wooden rods. “So, before you get to play with blades or hammers, you will first master these.”

  He scanned the class. His golden eyes landed on me and Mel. “You two, step up. Let’s see if your months of training have sharpened your instincts.”

  Sora and Tevin shot us encouraging looks as Mel and I trudged toward the center stage. Silas adjusted his mechanical arm, looking both nervous and fascinated. Luna, sitting at the end of the group, leaned forward, watching with silent intensity.

  Hopsander waved toward the cart. “Now, pick your weapon. Choose wisely.”

  I sifted through the pile, feeling for the right one.

  ‘What’s the difference? Just pick one!’ Fern groaned inside my head.

  It needs to feel right, I shot back, fingers brushing over a sturdy, four-foot staff about an inch thick. I lifted it—heavier than expected but well-balanced.

  Mel grabbed a longer staff, tossing it between her hands to test its weight.

  Hopsander stepped aside, webbed hands clasped behind his back. “Rules: Fight until one yields. No lethal blows, but be realistic. If it were life or death, you’d fight to survive. Begin!”

  My heart pounded. I raised my staff, shifting my stance as I swung one leg behind me for stability. Mel smirked, gripping her staff in both hands.

  She lunged first.

  Her staff whistled through the air, aimed at my ribs. I pivoted just in time. The wood sliced past my side, just barely passing out of range. She was fast, like a twister. I barely had time to reset before she continued moving and jumped up to strike again, this time in a downward arc.

  I raised my staff and blocked. The impact rattled my arms.

  ‘She’s strong. Watch your footing!’ Fern warned.

  I noticed! I shot back, gritting my teeth.

  Mel recoiled and regained her balance before she pressed forward again, her staff twisting in a blur. I had barely enough time to deflect and dodge, absorbing each blow in quick succession.

  “Stop blocking—attack!” Hopsander barked. “A staff is not just a shield, boy. Use it.”

  Right, I thought. Gathering my nerve, I parried another swing and lashed out—a quick jab aimed at Mel’s shoulder. She twisted away, narrowly dodging.

  Her grin widened. “There we go.”

  She swung low, aiming to sweep my legs.

  I jumped and avoided it, but she was already moving again. She pulled the wood back and twisted it around her neck before she threw a brutal thrust toward my gut. I twisted sideways, but the tip of her staff caught my ribs, knocking the wind out of me.

  ‘Damn it, Erik! She’s wiping the floor with us.’

  I ground my teeth.

  You KNOW if I go all out, we’d probably break some bones. Twice as strong. We are twice as strong as normal people, that’s what we figured out during this training, remember? I shouted back to Fern. I have to be careful.

  Mel was relentless. If I didn’t push back soon, I’d lose outright, but I worried if I did push back, it would be too much.

  Mel charged, trying to break my guard again. I braced for impact. Instead of blocking head-on, I let her staff slide against mine at an angle, absorbing the force—then spun inside her reach.

  My staff came up fast, stopping just below her chin.

  Mel froze. For the first time, she looked surprised. Her grip slackened for half a second.

  I seized the moment. A quick twist of my staff caught her wrist, knocking her grip loose.

  With a frustrated grunt, she stumbled backward, falling to one knee.

  She blinked up at me, breathing hard. “Y-you were holding back, huh?”

  ‘Nice going.’

  Fern, I had to hold back. It was for her safety. Hopsander even told me not to go all out, so I don’t out myself. Did I make it too obvious already?

  Mel’s gaze flicked to Hopsander. “Fine. I yield,” she muttered, dropping her staff.

  Hopsander stomped a webbed foot, nodding. “Impressive. Both of you adapted quickly. But Erik—don’t hesitate next time. And Mel, your aggression is an asset, but it makes you predictable. Learn control.”

  Mel rolled her shoulders, frowning at the bruise forming on her elbow. I hesitated, guilt nudging me.

  “Sorry,” I whispered.

  She waved me off. “Nah. You’re stronger than I thought.” Her smirk returned. “That’s good. But don’t hold back next time, asshole. Just because I’m a girl doesn’t mean I’m weak.” She stepped back and lifted up her shirt to reveal a stomach littered with scars and bruises. “Been taking beatings, stabbings, and all sorts of hurt for years now. I want to see what you can really do next time.” She lowered her shirt and walked back to her seat.

  Sora clapped softly, and Tevin let out a low whistle. Silas nudged Luna, grinning. “Well, that was intense.”

  Luna merely watched me, her golden-brown eyes unreadable.

  ‘That was close,’ Fern murmured.

  Yeah, I agreed. And it’s only the beginning.

  Hopsander turned to the class. “Now, we’ll pair you all up. Select your staffs. Show me how you adapt. The day you rely solely on your personal weapon is the day you fail as a Cinder.”

  The tension in the room eased as more recruits stepped forward. But something in me knew this wouldn’t be the last time I’d have to fight Mel.

  And next time, she wouldn’t go easy.