LITMIR.BIZ

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muttered something behind her and the group of girls surrounding the noble laughed.

      “What was that?” asked Instructor Droye brightly.

      “Oh, I was wondering what dances she knows. We’re all dying to know,” said Lianne innocently. “And it’d be nice if she could perform for us.”

      The dance instructor nodded and smiled. “That sounds like a delightful idea.”

      Britea clenched her fists so hard she almost cut the skin of her palms with her fingernails. “I don’t know how to dance.” She felt angry and humiliated.

      Lianne gasped as if stunned. “But I heard farmers and peasants love to dance all the time when not working the fields. Surely, you must have learned something growing up in your village?”

      “As I said,” repeated Britea through gritted teeth, turning her head to glare at a smug-looking Lianne. “I don’t dance.”

      “No, no, we’ll have none of that,” said Instructor Droye. Both girls turned to her. “Dancing is a wonderful way to both relax and communicate. We will teach you.” She nodded at Lianne. “Lady Arkei is an accomplished dancer and shall partner you to help you learn the steps.”

       By the Abyss, no!

      “I shall do my best,” said Lianne with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

      Britea shot a desperate look at the instructor, certain the senior wielder could see through Lianne’s fake sincerity. But there was no sign Instructor Droye was aware of the bullying taking place right in front of her.

      “Right. Now that’s settled. To your places everyone.”

       #

      Britea was both relieved and exhausted as she read the plaque on the dark-oak door: Beginners Wielding Class for First Years . The dance and etiquette class had been awful, and Lianne was to be her partner for the foreseeable future. Throughout the entire class, Lianne had kept mentioning how peasants were so uncivilized. Several of her questions still reverberated through her mind.

      “Do peasants eat off the floor?”

      “Oh, I heard when they wish to empty their bowels, they use holes in the ground. Is that true?”

      “Do they wear shoes?”

      “I heard farmers’ daughters have to sleep in the barn to make sure the livestock don’t escape into the wild. Is this true? Do you sleep on the hay or the dirt? Do you even know what a bed is? I’m surprised you know how to read. However did you manage that?”

      And on and on it had gone. Lianne kept asking if this or that was all true, but Britea had held her tongue as her rage had grown.

      And through it all, Instructor Droye was oblivious to it all. Of course, Lianne never said anything when the cheerful instructor was nearby.

      As the time had passed, the verbal barbs had gotten more and more cruel, made worse by the fact that the nearby students giggled or laughed when they overheard. No one had come to her aid.

      Right now, Britea felt like screaming. It was times like this that made her think of running away from the school. But then Lianne and her friends would win. Britea closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

      Stay calm and put her out of your mind. Move on to the next class. She looked up again at the plaque on the door. Britea really didn’t want to be in the most junior class. She had wielded up to the fifth tier! She had moved an entire ship!

      With Kahl’s help, you idiot! thought Britea, as she realized immediately how childish her behavior was. But the truth was, she was scared. After what had happened in dance and etiquette class, what if this one was worse?

      Standing here is not going to make this next class go faster. Get on with it. You’ve faced Namirans and sea serpents. You can do this! She took another deep breath and opened the door. The sounds of excited children filled the air as Britea entered the class. The first thing she noticed were the four enormous transparent cauldrons at the front of the class. The one closest to her was filled with leaves, the second with clear water, the third with fine sand, and the fourth with red coals. She finally turned to face the class, and her heart sank when she saw her fellow junior wielders.

      It was as she had feared. She suspected the oldest student was thirteen, the rest much younger. For a long moment, they didn’t notice her as they chatted and laughed with each other. Then one of them saw her.

      “Good day. Are you a new teacher?” asked a fresh-faced boy of about twelve.

      Britea winced internally. “No, I…I’m a new student.”

      The boy stared at her, and gradually, the rest of the class began to take note of the conversation.

      “I’m to join you for training.”

      The junior wielders looked at each other in consternation.

      “But you’re old!” exclaimed one of the students.

      “How old are you?” asked a young girl.

      Britea blinked, a bit intimidated by the boldness of the students. “I’m—” The door opened abruptly behind her, saving her from answering.

      The whole class stood up as Instructor Eowise Shelley marched into the class.

      “Good afternoon, Instructor Shelley!” chorused the class while Britea stood to one side feeling useless.

      “Good afternoon, class.” The instructor gave Britea a brief glance. “This is Novice Britea D’Tranell. She’s new to the college and to wielding, so she’ll be joining us for training. Britea, take a seat at the back.”

      Feeling curious eyes on her, she quickly escaped to the rear of the class. The instructor waited for her to be seated before addressing the class once more.

      “Stand and recite the Wielder’s Creed.”

      Britea found herself scrambling to her feet as the younger voices began to speak in unison. She found herself impressed by how well the junior wielders had memorized the words. The instructor in the meantime was walking around the class as she watched the students closely.

      “Very good,” said Instructor Shelley when they were done. She suddenly turned to a young boy in the second row.

      “Describe the first tier.”

      The male novice remained standing as the others sat down. “The first tier is the first and easiest level of wielding. Seven times shall one wield the same shape.”

      “Well done, Zaren. Class, what does the first tier represent?”

      “Stability,” came the chorus.

      “And though the first tier is the easiest, it is also the most important. Without mastering it, you cannot proceed to the second tier.” The instructor’s gaze lingered for a moment on Britea before moving on.

      “Which is why we shall practice it in every lesson, even when you graduate to a higher class. As we proceed, I will remind you that you can only wield in class under supervision and never in your dorms or the rest of the school grounds. Is that understood?” Once again, she glanced briefly in Britea’s direction.

      The special attention was beginning to feel odd.

      “Yes, Instructor Shelley,” chorused the class.

      “Now, I will demonstrate the first tier for air.” The instructor took a bunch of leaves from the cauldron before her and closed her fist around them. She held out her right fist, and as she opened it, a small tornado of leaves formed on her palm.

      “Ahh,” exclaimed the students in wonder. Britea couldn’t help but be impressed. The senior wielder’s control was perfect. Instructor Shelley let the students watch for a bit longer before she collapsed the wield.

      “Now,

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