LITMIR.BIZ

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the student.

      “Time for lunch everybody!” yelled Weapons Master Caren. This was greeted by whoops of joy. Britea breathed a sigh of relief as she went in search of Danai and Navos.

      After a few moments, Henrick followed her.

       #

      “Hey, look who turned up,” said Navos as Britea hurried up to them.

      Danai was surprised to see her. “What are you doing here?”

      “I ran into Master Caren in the hallway, and, well…it’s a lot more complicated than that. Anyway, he advised me to join the combat and defense class. I thought you two wanted me to join?”

      Danai chuckled. “I was joking. Master Caren must think you have potential though, or you wouldn’t be here. Welcome to the club. Let’s get some food.”

      The three students joined the growing line.

      “So, how’s your day been?” asked Navos as they snatched their choice of food and found an unoccupied round table.

      “I had my first assessment this morning…” Britea’s voice trailed off when she saw who was headed in their direction. “What does he want now?”

      The two older students looked up to see a nervous young male student approaching them with his tray of food.

      Henrick Walters.

      “Friend of yours?” asked Danai with a smile.

      “I—”

      “May I sit with you? Britea suggested maybe I should.”

      Everyone looked at her as she felt her face heat up.

      “Yeah, grab a seat, friend. I’m Navos.”

      “Danai Riverun,” said the female fire wielder before taking a sip of water.

      Henrick introduced himself while Britea watched him closely.

      “So, Master Caren recruited you as well?” Britea asked.

      “Um, yes. He walked into class, had a few words with Instructor Melvin and the next thing I knew, the weapons master is calling my name and ordering me to follow him.” He paused for a second then asked, “Did the three of you have a similar experience?”

      Navos shook his head. “Nah. I came to his class and asked if I could join. He asked me to wield, then asked me about my martial arts experience, and just like that, I was part of the class.”

      Henrick and Britea looked at Danai.

      “I was advised to join the class a week after I arrived, and I must say, I’m glad I did. It’s quite enjoyable.”

      “That move you used against Navos was pretty impressive. Which martial arts form was it?” asked Henrick.

      “Weltonian calisthenics.”

      Henrick and Britea stared at Danai while Navos laughed at their stunned expressions.

      “You’re not the only one who was surprised to learn that. And even after three years of sparring together, she still gets me with those moves most of the time.”

      Danai just smiled and kept eating.

      “Calisthenics?” mused Henrick. “Well, I expect being seafarers, your people must run into a lot of pirates.”

      Danai shook her head. “No. More like run away from. Once we sight pirates, we sail away like the wind. We also try not to venture into areas they frequent. My people only fight if there’s no other option.”

      The younger male student seemed a bit confused. Britea wondered what kind of preconception had been shattered by Danai’s casual reply.

      “So, Britea, you get placed yet?” asked Navos.

      She shook her head. “No, I have a few more assessments coming up.”

      “I don’t understand. Which assessments are you talking about?” asked Henrick.

      Britea sighed inwardly. “I’m a late wielder; I just got here over the weekend. Warden Asteros has me preparing for assessments so they know which classes would be suitable for me.”

      Henrick blinked at her, and she waited for the usual reaction of disbelief.

      “You’re a late wielder?’

      “Yes.” She knew she sounded a bit testy, but the last hour had been stressful enough, and she was getting so tired of this reaction.

      “That’s rare. How did you find out? Did anyone get hurt when your ability manifested?”

      Danai raised an eyebrow and shared a silent look with Navos.

      Britea forced herself not to snap. “It was spontaneous, and no, no one got hurt. Instead, I got to join this college to learn more about wielding.” She hoped Henrick got the hint and would stop asking her more questions.

      “Seven more minutes!” Only Henrick and Britea were surprised at the instructor’s loud announcement.

      “Eat fast, my friends,” said Navos cheerfully. “Just don’t choke.”

       #

      Weapons Master Pietor Caren sighed happily as he let himself into the private quarters reserved for instructors.

      “Ah, you’re back,” said Warden Sammel Asteros when the instructor walked into the kitchen. The warden was putting the finishing touches on a meal of spicy vegetable fried rice with chicken soup and warm bread. “How was your day?”

      The weapons master grinned. “It was brilliant, actually. How was yours?”

      “Not so brilliant, I’m afraid.” Sammel carried two trays of warm food to the dinner table. “I had to deal with some pushy naval intelligence agents.”

      Pietor’s smile disappeared as he followed with a tray of warm, tasty-looking bread. “But they took your report seriously, didn’t they?”

      “That’s not the impression I got when they left.”

      “Hmm. Let me change and wash up quickly, and then you can tell me all about it. By the way, the meal looks good.”

      “Yeah, thanks. It’s your turn tomorrow.”

      Pietor ran to his room to wash up and change, and then the two wielders sat down to dinner. As they ate, Sammel described what had occurred earlier in the day.

      “I hate to say this, but it doesn’t look like they’re taking the attack on the Windrider seriously,” said the weapons master.

      Sammel nodded. “I spoke to Headmaster Clayre about it, and he said we should leave it alone. It’s not our responsibility.”

      Pietor raised an eyebrow at the bitterness in his friend’s tone. “You’re worried something worse is on the way.”

      The warden sighed. “I have no idea, but I feel Namiran warships in our waters is an ominous sign. I don’t buy their excuse that they just happened to wander into our territory to save the Windrider. ”

      “Neither do I. The sad thing is our opinions clearly don’t matter in King Wilhem’s court.”

      The front door opened before Sammel could say another word.

      “Evening, my fellow wielders,” announced Eowise breathlessly as she entered the dining room. She paused when she saw the food on the table. “Oh, save a plate for me.” The female instructor rushed off to change.

      “No hurry, dear,” shouted Pietor. “I’ll make sure there’s nothing left before you get back.

      “Don’t you dare!” yelled back their housemate. Both seated wielders chuckled, and soon enough their colleague returned in a loose, long light-blue cotton

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