by Narro, B. T.
“We get reading assignments and exercises,” Reela had said. “But most of it just seems like methods for students to discover their potential. Many of the people in my class can do hardly more than create a pinch of pain, and it’s remained this way since the beginning of the year. Only a few are strong.”
Effie remembered asking, “How are you so much better than they are?”
“I trained with Rek for years. The only other psychics who have decent ability had someone they trained with as well. Like magic, it takes hundreds of hours of training before a psychic can do anything to a Human.”
“So you do practice on animals!”
“Yes, but we’re not cruel to them like you’ve implied,” Reela had retorted.
Still, Effie had little idea what she would find the psychics doing when she peered into the classroom.
There weren’t many psychics in the Academy, just one hundred and fifty—and that was at the beginning of the year. There had to be less now. Their classrooms were tucked behind the eastern side of Redfield. There were fifty psychics per group, but they were split by year, so Reela was stuck with the other first-years no matter how much better she was. It was the same for chemists, though there were three times as many chemists as psychics, so there were three times as many groups.
The first-year psychic buildings were painted white like the rest of the buildings around them. It was just the mage buildings that were made of black ironbark, so errant fireballs wouldn’t burn them down. Windows without curtains allowed Effie to sneak looks inside as she walked around trying to find Reela.
She was sitting with crossed arms, barely paying attention to something in front of her that Effie could only hear. A man and a woman were grunting as if wrestling. Effie went to another window for a better look.
The training pair each had an arm stretched out toward the other, palm open. They must’ve been casting psyche by the strain on their faces. The man fell to one knee, but then he clawed his other hand out at the woman, and she fell as well. He jumped up and stomped his foot as he thrust both hands out.
The woman twisted on the ground. “I yield,” she uttered.
He stopped, breathing heavily. Effie expected him to walk over and help her up, but he made no motion toward her.
The woman slowly got back to her feet, and they shook hands. They didn’t show any friendliness toward each other, parting as soon as the handshake was over and returning to their seats. Reela’s instructor came into view from wherever she was watching the duel.
Effie barely made out her words through the window. “Reela…duel…who would…her?”
Effie watched Reela stand and glance around the room.
The instructor said something else in an urging tone. Finally, the man who’d just been up stood again. He and Reela went to the front, where she defeated him in less than two breaths time.
He barely shook her hand after, refusing to even look at her face. Effie hoped it wasn’t because of Reela’s scar but from disdain or embarrassment.
Their instructor dismissed them shortly after. Effie hid behind a wall that she knew Reela would pass by, testing her friend’s ability to sense her presence. She tried to think no thoughts, nothing that could alert Reela that Effie was going to sneak behind her.
When she tried to empty her mind, though, for some reason Brady jumped into her thoughts as if he’d been waiting for his opportunity. She cursed her mind. Why did it like to torment her?
If only I could forget about Brady as easily as the Slugaren I need to remember.
Reela peaked around the corner. “What are you doing, Eff? Trying to sneak up on me?” She had a proud grin.
“Just waiting for you.” She calmly dusted off one shoulder of her marred training gown.
“Right,” Reela said, offering her arm. “We have some time before dinner. Shall we go home?”
“Yes.” Effie wrapped her arm around Reela’s as they walked.
Effie looked around to confirm that hardly any of the psychics were speaking to each other or even walking together. It was the opposite of the mages in her group after battle training was over.
“Why aren’t you psychics friendly with each other?”
“Did you see any of the duels?” Reela asked.
“Yes.”
“That’s why. Often we train on each other, and it’s painful—especially for the loser. It’s not easy to be friendly with someone who hurts you. Don’t you remember how angry you were when I used psyche on you?”
“I see. So that’s why you have no friends?” Effie was mostly joking.
“Exactly. And it’s even worse when we can sense each other’s unfriendliness.”
“You told me earlier there are many psychics who still can’t do much.”
“That’s right.”
Effie checked to make sure no one could overhear them. “Then what do they do during battle?”
“Like the chemists, we also spend time training with weapons. Those who aren’t strong in psyche have swords and armor during battle to fight with instead. Sometimes we train with each other on Warrior’s Field, though I never have to.”
“Alex never mentioned seeing psychics.”
“Alex has barely noticed we’re there, I’m sure. He’s always busy with the other warriors, and his instructor is always screaming, though I never know what about.”
“Are any of the psychics good with a sword?” Effie asked.
“Some of the men are decent. But I can’t see many of them ever defeating a Krepp.”
“So what’ll they do during battle?”
Reela had a breath. “The same as many of the chemists, cower to where they’re safe.”
Effie thought of Marratrice. Steffen had said regretfully that she shouldn’t have been fighting. Reela must’ve sensed Effie’s change in mood. She leaned over to kiss Effie’s temple.
“Marratrice was brave,” Effie said.
“Yes, as were many of the others who died.”
They passed by Redfield, stopping in front of the wall where the names of those who’d fallen were inscribed. It was common for people to visit the wall, but no one else was there at the moment.
More names had been added after the battle in Tenred. There were hundreds, so many names stretching on and on.
When they continued walking, Reela asked, “Mind if we walk by Warrior’s Field? I want to see how Cleve is faring with his group.”
Effie smirked in silence.
Reela tossed her hand. “Let’s hear it.”
“Nothing! I just like seeing you embarrassed. I’m also curious how Cleve is doing with Zoke and Alex.” A question she’d meant to ask earlier crawled its way back to the front of her mind. “What happens when two psychics of poor skill duel each other?”
“They don’t.”
“Why not?”
“It would be like two mages who aren’t skilled enough to cast fireballs aiming Bastial light at each other. Nothing would happen.” Reela stared at Effie with raised eyebrows, waiting for something.
“What?” Effie asked.
“Why haven’t you told me what happened with you and the Slugari? I heard you nearly killed everyone with a massive fireball. Some of it even flew out of the training area.”
Effie shouted, “How’d you already hear about that?”
“During lunch, the mages in your group were talking about it. Everyone was huddled around them because the Slugari came into the dining hall with them.”
“So everyone knows?” Effie asked, her body burning with shame.
“Many do. What’s wrong?”
“I really did almost hurt a lot of people and Slugari,” Effie said. “It could’ve been avoided, but I was an idiot. I couldn’t remember a few simple Slugaren words.”
All of the humor in Reela’s face was gone. She spread her arms to offer Effie a hug. “It’s fine, Eff. People are excited about what you can do.”
When they embraced, Effie felt better.
T
he smell of the grass of Warrior’s Field always made Effie think of sweaty men and hard work. She couldn’t recall when this association started, but it had to have been since coming to the Academy. She and Reela walked along its edge. Effie didn’t know where the Group One warriors trained, but Reela seemed to.
Effie had glimpsed the men fighting many times, as Warrior’s Field was on the way to the dining hall from her classroom. She’d never stopped to watch, though. She’d witnessed men being struck hard in the legs, chest, and arms. Even with the tough leather they wore, she could see from their faces how painful it was. She’d even seen one man hit in the face, the sight of his bloody nose difficult to forget.
It was hard to imagine Alex being violent. He was so gentle with her. The memories of him decapitating Krepps felt distant, like it wasn’t even him.
Rarely did she find a bruise along his arms or legs. She’d asked him if he often had aches that didn’t show up as marks.
“No,” he’d said. “If it hurts, usually there’ll be a bruise.”
“Why do you hardly have any bruises, then?”
He’d showed her a smug grin. “Because Zoke and I rarely lose.”
She wanted to see him fight, along with Zoke and Cleve. Unfortunately, their group was sitting, listening to Warrior Sneary. Their backs were to Reela and Effie.
“How often do they fight each other?” Reela asked.
So it seemed her friend wanted to see the same thing as she did. “Only about a third of the day is spent dueling, Alex told me.”
There wasn’t much to see. Cleve sat on one side of Alex while Zoke sat on the other. Cleve’s size made him stand out, giving him the appearance of being older than he was.
“Shall we go?” Effie asked.
Reela stared for another breath before she nodded. “Alright.”
But as they started to leave, the young men stood. Many grabbed their wooden swords.
“Wait,” Effie said. “It looks like they’re going to fight.”
Four men took their places, two on each side. They often dueled four at a time, but sometimes Effie saw three against two, even four against two. When she’d asked Alex about it, he’d explained that those who were outnumbered were never expected to win, though it did happen. It was more of a training exercise for when the same thing happened in a battle.
It was difficult for Effie to tell what was happening between the four men she didn’t know. They danced around, swiping their weapons at each other. Everything seemed so carefully planned, as if choreographed—attacks, ducks, lunges, weaves. Then someone grunted when he was struck on the arm.
“Hit,” Sneary called, and everyone stopped.
Effie’s heart jumped when not only Alex and Zoke came up next, but Cleve as well. He was partnered with a warrior she didn’t know.
Her competitive side spoke for her. “Cleve’s going to lose against Alex and Zoke.”
Reela arched her eyebrows. “If that’s what you think, you’re going to be surprised.”
“Want to make a wager?” Effie had little idea who would win. She was just looking for some fun.
“What do you have in mind?”
Effie thought of what she might want from Reela. Immediately, a brilliant idea came to her. “If Alex’s team wins, you have to run over there and kiss Cleve. Then run back without a word.”
“My Bastial stars, does it have to be so embarrassing?”
“Yes.”
“And you’ll do the same to Alex if Cleve’s team wins?”
“Yes.”
Reela started laughing nervously. “Fine.”
They shook hands.
“Cleve better win,” Reela muttered.
Cleve attacked Zoke with a hard slash as soon as Sneary yelled for them to start. But the Krepp blocked it with his weapon. They had both hands on their swords as they pushed against each other, trying to knock the other off his feet.
Alex was busy fending off Cleve’s partner but managed a quick swing at Cleve’s side. He turned and kicked Alex’s arm before the wood reached him. Zoke took the opportunity to swipe at Cleve but missed, for Cleve already had rolled forward toward Alex, who was distracted fighting with Cleve’s partner.
“Behind!” Zoke yelled, and Alex leapt forward to avoid Cleve’s unseen sword. Cleve must’ve known Zoke was going to attack him, for he turned with his sword ready to block the overhead slash before he had time to see it coming.
“Hit!” Sneary yelled.
Effie was confused at first, for she was certain Cleve had blocked the attack. But then she noticed Alex’s opponent hopping around and nursing his hand. She’d won the bet, but she was too awestruck by what she’d seen to enjoy her victory.
“Bastial hell, how is Cleve so agile at his size?” Effie wondered.
“He has good manipulation over Bastial Energy. Whenever he’s fighting, it’s constantly flowing through his limbs, giving him extra strength so he can move quickly.” Reela squeezed Effie’s hand. “Please don’t make me go over there and kiss him.” Her cheeks already were red.
Before Effie could decide if her guilt outweighed her desire to see the ridiculous sight, she noticed that some of the warriors were turned toward them and seemed to be talking about them. Alex and Cleve walked over to listen.
Reela confirmed it. “They’re talking about us.” She sounded curious. Effie took it to mean the psychic didn’t know whether it was good or bad.
Someone must’ve said something heinous, for one laughed while the others shook their heads and stepped away. It left one man shrugging—the one who must’ve spoken first. He had very short brown hair and a square jaw.
“What?” he said, laughing. Effie barely could hear him. “Am I wrong?” he asked loudly.
Effie had never seen such anger on Cleve’s face. He trudged toward the young man, practically frothing at the mouth.
But Alex was closer to the short-haired man, and he punched him in the face with a wide swing of his arm. The man grunted and fell. He grabbed his cheek and moaned.
Cleve stopped and unclenched his fists. Sneary came over, drew his sword, and hit Alex in the back of his leg, causing Alex to groan and fall to a knee.
“Now run a lap!” Sneary yelled. “Around the entire field, not just our section!”
Alex hobbled off and started into an awkward jog.
When Sneary turned to rejoin whatever conversation he was having with a different cluster of warriors, Cleve knelt down and grabbed the back of the short-haired man’s neck. He said something Effie couldn’t hear. Then Cleve nearly lifted him by his neck and shoved him. The man gladly let his momentum take his body away from Cleve and joined a small circle of other warriors with a quick look over his shoulder.
With some anger still in his eyes, Cleve quickly walked toward Effie and Reela.
“What was that?” Effie asked him.
“Nothing. Stupid warrior stuff.” He put his hand on Reela’s back, turning her south—away from the field. “You both should go.”
Reela turned and kissed his cheek. “I’ll see you at the dining hall,” she said.
Cleve nodded.
“There,” Reela said as they continued toward their student house. “I kissed him.”
“Fine,” Effie said.
They walked together silently, the image Effie had just seen repeating over and over. She hooked her arm around Reela’s.
“That definitely wasn’t just ‘stupid warrior stuff,’ ” Effie said, imitating Cleve’s deep voice.
“No, it wasn’t.”
Effie had a feeling she didn’t want to know what had really happened. But her curiosity wouldn’t let it go.
She had her chance to find out later when she and Reela went to the dining hall and found Alex eating alone. They waited in line for food and then sat with him.
“You’re all by yourself?” Effie asked.
“Sneary made me leave battle training early as punishment for hitting someone.” He was unusually distant, his tone sa
d.
“What happened with that warrior?” Effie asked. “What did he say?”
Alex looked across the table to Reela. He swallowed his food, his gaze falling back to his plate. “Nothing.”
“So it was about me.” Reela spoke calmly. “You know you’re going to have to say it. Just get it over with.”
“Cleve won’t be happy with me if I tell you.”
“Then he doesn’t have to know,” Reela said.
“Fine, but keep in mind that Kwin is an idiot.”
“Is that the short-haired man you hit?” Effie asked.
“Yes.”
“It doesn’t seem like you to hit someone like that,” Effie commented.
“I wasn’t going to hit him. I was going to point out his ignorance. But then I saw the look on Cleve’s face as he came at Kwin.” Alex chuckled. “I was worried Cleve was going to kill him, so I intervened.”
“It was about my scar, wasn’t it?” Reela asked.
Alex nodded. Going back to eating, it seemed he wished to say no more.
“Tell me exactly what he said,” Reela insisted.
“Why does it matter? He’s an idiot, like I said.”
“Wouldn’t you want to know?” Reela asked. “I’m going to make you tell me if you don’t just get it out.”
Defeated, Alex sighed and looked around to make sure Cleve wasn’t there. “Someone else said that it was sad what happened to your face. Then Kwin said, ‘Oh, is that Reela? Yeah, she used to be pretty. Now she’s just another ugly, useless psychic but with big ears.’ ” Alex thrust out his hands. “But others don’t think that.”
Reela’s eyes were watery. There was a tremor as she spoke, “What? That I’m ugly or that I’m useless?”
“Neither!” Alex whispered with furious intent. “He was just being mean for the sake of it. He doesn’t know what you’re capable of. He’s never seen you fight.”
It was too late, Reela already was deeply saddened. She didn’t cry, but she neither ate nor looked up from her plate. Effie was about to get up and hug her when she saw Cleve and Zoke come into the dining hall.
Alex muttered a curse. He leaned over the table and whispered, “Reela, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to tell you. Try to ignore what Kwin said. It’s not the truth.”