“Novice, a word,” Proctor Bishop said as Gregory gathered his things. Yukiko stepped to the side to wait for him.
“How may I help you this time, Proctor?”
“Do you know why I picked you?” Bishop asked.
“Because we had the same body type,” Gregory recited what she had told the class.
“I could have picked any of the women in class as easily.”
Gregory sighed, “Because besides them, I’m the thinnest, least muscled person in the class. It spared any of the women from baring their bodies to the rest of the class.”
“Exactly. Most of them won’t see it, but your friend with you does. Do you still think of your friend Delarosa?”
Gregory blinked. He was at a loss when he realized he had not been thinking of her nearly as often as he thought he would. “Occasionally,” he said after a moment.
“A word of advice; relationships between magi and non-magi don’t work out well due to the difference in our lifespans,” Bishop replied, a sad smile on her lips. “You don’t have to forget her, but you need to accept that fact.”
“I will keep that in mind, Proctor,” he replied, bowing to her.
~*~*~
“Greg?”
“Huh?”
“Thank you again.”
“It’s okay, Yuki,” Gregory said.
“Can I ask about the scars?”
“Bane wolf,” he said, thinking back to the attack. Silence followed his two word answer and he sighed, then explained. They reached the mess hall just as he finished telling the story.
“Amoria… she is your—?”
“Friend,” Gregory finished for her quickly. “One of my best friends. We can’t be anything more, and she knows that. I made her promise to find happiness when I left. Magi loving non-magi never works out because of the difference in how long they live,” he said, restating Bishop’s admonishment.
“Oh,” Yukiko said, “I see.”
“Let’s grab our snacks and get moving. We don’t have a lot of time before conditioning.”
“Yes.”
After waiting in the line for a few minutes, they asked for a snack instead of a meal. One of the eurtiks handed them each a small sack. Taking the bags, they left the mess hall and headed for their next class. While they walked, Gregory pulled out one of the jerky cubes and began to chew on it.
When they reached the training hall, a note at the entrance instructed the novices to report to the orange arena. They picked up their pace, and located the arena with orange flags flying over it. They made it inside and an apprentice directed them out onto the arena floor. A handful of other novices were already waiting, and a few had snacks in hand, as well. Moving off to the side, Gregory took a seat and focused on eating, using the cheese and fruit to help temper the aether rush from the jerky.
More novices arrived, many of whom Gregory did not know. He called out to Nick, Michelle, and the others that he knew when they appeared. He tucked the empty snack bag into his pouch to return it later and got to his feet.
“How is your class?” Gregory asked when Nick got close enough.
“We’re doing well. Glad we don’t have all our classes with Hayworth. He’s on the first floor, thankfully.”
“Aether introduction was weird,” Michelle said. “The proctor disrobing in front of us was rather shocking, and she made Fureno disrobe with her.”
Fureno was a little red at the ears, “I didn’t want to, but I wasn’t going to argue with a magus. Now everyone thinks I’m the weakest one in our class.”
“She picked Greg to go up with her for our class,” Yukiko told them.
“Yeah, the thin guy over there… his arm is all scarred up,” a novice’s voice drifted over to them.
Gregory glanced over to see one of the other students from his class with a group of other novices. “Great. It’s going to spread.”
The bell sounded the thirteenth hour and as the last chime rang, a man in a cyan kimono walked out onto the arena floor. Gregory nodded; it was indeed the fourth person he and Yukiko had seen at breakfast. Instead of looking studious like he had this morning, he stalked forward like a hungry tiger. Gregory swallowed as he watched the teacher size each of them up.
“Fall in!” the man shouted.
Some of novices knew what he meant and quickly formed up into ranks before him. Gregory was doubly glad for his friendship with Nick, because he had explained this to Gregory over the last week. Now, Nick stood near the front while Yukiko and Gregory were farther back.
“Move it!”
The rest of the novices scrambled to get into lines like the ones that had already formed. Seven ranks of twelve novices eventually stood facing the magus.
“You will always form up like this when told to fall in, understood?”
A score of voices shouted back at him, “Yes, Magus!”
The instructor glowered at the novices. “You will always answer with a ‘yes, sir,’ or ‘yes, Magus,’ understood!?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Yes, Magus.” The echoed and jumbled voices yelled back.
With a sniff, the magus began to pace up and down the ranks. “I’m Magus Paul Erichson, and I will be your instructor for physical conditioning. If you displease me, you will be doing extra conditioning. Understood?”
“Yes, sir,” came the loud reply.
Paul was swiftly in front of a novice in the front, almost nose to nose with him. “I can’t hear you, Novice!”
“Yes, sir!” the novice yelled back.
“Most of you have never had any training, which means the first week is going to be torture for you. We will be working to get all of your weak, soft bodies into some semblance of healthy and fit. Twenty laps around the arena— run!”
Nick took off right away, and those behind him in line were quick to follow. Surprisingly to Gregory, Hayworth and the people with him did likewise. After a moment, the entire class was running. Paul followed them with a switch in his hand, swatting at anyone who was not running as fast as he wanted them to.
Feeling ready to collapse after the last lap, Gregory sucked in air like a bellows as he continued to pace. Even though aether churned inside him, his breathing was returning to normal faster than most in the class. Yukiko was pale, sweaty, and having trouble catching her breath, tripping and falling. Going to her side, he got her up and walking.
“Deep breaths,” he managed to tell her. “It’ll help. Mother taught me this as a kid.”
Yukiko wanted to lay back down, but leaning on Gregory, she kept walking and doing her best to breathe deep. After a minute, she was feeling better and was able to walk on her own again.
“What’s this? It’s not time to nap,” Paul bellowed. “Fall in!”
Less than twenty people were able to stand up straight. The rest were bent over, still gasping, or on the ground by the time they got into something resembling ranks.
“Pathetic! A mere twenty laps and you think you’re done?” Paul scoffed at them. “Last five people not on their feet will be switched until they can stand.”
Novices struggled harder to get to their feet, sucking in air. Paul was already among them and switching people before everyone knew it. Cries of pain filled the air until everyone was on their feet.
“Novices, you are here to be made into the weapons of the empire,” Paul said, standing in front of the class again, his face grim. “Some of you might find some way to leverage a clan or family into sparing you the worst of it, but all of you will see combat, and at least half of you will die a bloody, messy death. The more you struggle and the more you fail, the more likely you’ll be among the dead.”
He let his eyes rove from one novice to the next, snorting. “I can guess who the unfortunate ones are going to be. But if you pour your heart and aether into training, you might— just maybe— survive. Now, spread out an arm’s length apart from the people next to you, and again before and behind.” He waited a moment for them to comply. “Passable. Now, first row, a step to the right. Third row, a step to the left. Fifth row, step right. Seventh, to the left.” Walking down the length of the ranks, he nodded slowly. “We will begin stretching. We will start with this every day from now on. If you fail to keep up, you will have extra laps running.”
~*~*~
Gregory felt his muscles burning. His aether was a dim coal inside him and his brain was full of fog when the eighteenth bell chimed.
“Dismissed until tomorrow,” Paul said as he strode from the arena.
“He’s a demon,” one of the novices whimpered, forcing themselves upright.
“How are we going to survive this?” another asked in horror as they watched Paul leave.
“Yuki,” Gregory asked, “you okay?”
“I feel faint,” Yukiko replied as she slumped to her knees.
“Dinner. We need to eat for our aether,” Gregory told her, holding out a hand.
Looking up at him, Yukiko nodded, “Yes, I know.”
Taking her hand, he pulled her upright. “Bath first,” he told her. “The water will help ease our muscles.”
“He’s right about that,” Nick said with a nod, not looking as worn as they felt. “We’re heading there ourselves.”
“Okay,” Yukiko added, leaning against Gregory. “Just go slow, please.”
Making their way from the arena floor, Gregory was shocked to see how many novices were still sprawled in the sand. Silently thanking his mother for teaching him how to breathe to get his breath back as a kid, Gregory knew he would have been with them otherwise.
“We survived,” Fureno mumbled, limping along.
“The first day,” Nick replied. “Tomorrow will be worse. He was merely feeling us out today, finding out who could excel and who would collapse first.”
“That doesn’t fill me with hope,” Gregory muttered.
“You stayed upright most of the time,” Nick said with a respectful nod. “You’ll be fine if you can keep that grit.”
Conversation fell off as they made their way to the training hall and split into male and female groups for the baths. They spent twenty minutes soaking before more people began to show up. Taking that as their cue, the novices left and went to the mess hall. The nineteenth bell chimed as they made it to the door.
Inside, it was moderately busy, with two other groups of novices eating already. It was obvious they had skipped the bath, as dirt was smeared on cheeks, necks, and in their hair. Gregory went through the line almost in a daze, not recalling what he ordered, only that the eurtiks served him with smiles.
Taking a seat next to Yukiko across from Nick, Gregory blinked at his tray. One bowl held salad, while the omnipresent soup took up a second. Red meat sliced into thin strips was on his plate alongside brown rice. His cup was full of a sparkling yellow liquid that smelled of apples. Condensation was collecting on the outside of the cup.
Gregory was surprised at how long it took his aether to return to normal. It burned just barely brighter than usual, but he felt sated and content by the time he finished. Yukiko sighed appreciatively as she set her empty cup down.
“I feel exhausted,” Michelle yawned. “I’m going to bed early tonight.”
“A good idea,” Nick nodded. “Greg, Yuki, we’ll see you for conditioning tomorrow.”
“Night,” Gregory replied.
“Of course,” Yukiko replied. “Sleep well.”
Pushing themselves to their feet after the others, Gregory and Yukiko walked slowly to drop off their dishes. When they turned to leave, Gregory recalled the bag from lunch and turned it over. Yukiko followed suit, reminded by him.
“Many have forgotten. Thank you,” the otter eurtik said with a smile. “Keeper Dia will be unhappy tomorrow.”
“I’m glad it won’t be us that caused her ire,” Gregory replied as they turned to leave.
“Greg… would you like to stop by and play some Go before bed?” Yukiko asked, brushing some of her blonde hair behind her ear.
“Not tonight. I feel as exhausted as Michelle,” Gregory replied, his eyelids feeling heavy. “Sorry, Yuki. Maybe tomorrow?”
“Okay, tomorrow. Thank you for helping me in class.”
“I do what I can,” Gregory smiled. “I’ll need your help with economics.”
“I’ll gladly return the favor, then.”
Gregory made it to his room in the dormitory, his steps dragging by then. He got his clothes set out for the staff, collapsed onto his mat, pulled the blankets over his head, and fell fast asleep.
