My defense stances are beginning to weaken, and with every move, Sabra has a counter, even utilizing previous Cordiver elements into her approach. Sun burn me, she is a fast learner.
Nothing I do is surprising her anymore. Until one of us falters, I am stuck.
Think, think, think.
I groan internally at my idea, but know it’s my best shot.
Sabra starts to shuffle toward me, tilting her head so she can see through her good eye. The other is puffed nearly shut from one of my jabs. She fakes right, then kicks low. I block. Then she turns around, swinging her leg in an arching kick. Damn, she’s learning.
But I’m already there. My left foot connects with her face and my ankle crunches and buckles under the contact. She left her defense to my injured side open as I predicted, writing off that I wouldn’t push through the pain.
She must not know how stubborn I can be when I’m determined to win.
Sabra goes down hard, and my vision blots with stars. I manage to remain standing on my right side long enough for Hogsmith to call me the winner.
I keep my pain compartmentalized until the infirmary, but by then, my facade fades and the pain sweeps in. Tears stream down my face. I’m relieved I passed this final with full marks, but my bodyhurts. Nurse Panacea comes over at once, muttering and cursing the “archaic practices” the academy still uses and hands me a small vial of swirling silver liquid.
“To help you sleep… and for the pain,” she says.
I gulp it down and welcome the instantaneous damper on the pain, like a gentle numbing fog. Sleep comes fast, and when I wake the next morning, a large glass bowl of water sits on my bedside table with a singular glowing lily floating on top.
39
Ceremony of Stones
The Stone Ceremony is quickly approaching, where all first year cadets will either receive their stones and continue in their Watcher training or they will be admitted into the WatchGuard infantry, where at least they can thrive in the non-magic channeling infantry to finish out their three-year term.
My week has consisted of waking early to study for finals, resting during the afternoon, then staying up late into the night with Atlys, Cadex, and Damaris for training. On occasion, Atlys will make us duel in an attempt to change up opponent size, stature, and style.
As huge and intimidating as Cadex can be, I’ve learned he’s predictable and uses my small stature and speed as leverage.
Damaris, on the other hand, is a walking weapon. Nothing surprises them. As the Commander of the Coredivers, they are ruthless, cunning, and absolutely incredible to watch demolish anyone who dares challenge them.
Last night was the longest I have lasted battling Damaris.
Two fucking minutes.
I don’t regret my attempt, though my sore muscles would disagree. I need to be ready for the third task. Ever since Ramona overheard Ragnar from the Jord team talking about the third task happening sometime after the ceremony, I have been mentally preparing. How the Jord team found out, I’ll never know. Perhaps all of this decorum has been hiding the fact that no one seems to be playing by the rules. Wincing from my aching muscles, I pull on the Watcher blue cloak over my formals and make a mental note to visit the healing springs tonight after the ceremony is over.
“Looking sharp, Akemi,” Ramona calls from her vanity where she is currently trying to hide the newly dyed red streaks in her hair. Her family is visiting for the ceremony, and they definitely wouldn’t approve of the new color.
Good thing Ramona’s never much cared for rules. She is at least putting in a valiant effort not to overtly display the bright red streaks.
“Not as sharp as you,” I say half-crediting the latest addition of daggers in her baldric. Leaf surprised her yesterday with a pair of Elven claw daggers, made custom from the Forest Tribe. These daggers are quite rare and can only be made when a roc sheds one of their sharp baby claws before hitting maturity.
Ramona chuckles. “I suppose no one is as sharp as me.” She pats her daggers lovingly.
We finish getting ready in our formals and head down to the large hall just north of the main atrium. Immediately, my heart begins to quicken at the sight. We haven’t had any classes in this part of the castle, and I see why. The Watch is set up for military training, magic channeling, and other more practical purposes, notthis. The room before me is beautiful.
Marrow would have loved this room.
A stage of gleaming white marble fills the front half of the hall. Rows and rows of light blue seats face the stage on the main floor, and with each tiered section, the seats become darker in color, as if disappearing into the sky itself. The dome ceiling is covered with painted scenes of the Old World with a large, circular stained glass window in the center.
Instinctively, I reach inside my pocket for the familiar scrap of Teller fabric. Marrow’s smooth voice fills my head.I want you to take it. Have it on you as a reminder to be bold. I know you are destined for greatness.
Are my achievements enough? Am I enough?
You are destined for greatness, Marrow says again as if he is standing right next to me.
