Battle Camp: The Rebellion V. 2

Hello, everyone! Some of you old folks might remember my first story, Battle Camp: The Rebellion. I assure you, this is 200X better than the original. I have completely rewritten the story. As a result, it is longer and much, much better (not a surprise considering the first time I wrote it I was 11). I don't know if I should even bother making a feedback thread considering most of you will post on here anyways...

***IMPORTANT*** I am busy, but don't worry about this being updated infrequently *coughAGOScough*. This is complete. If I'm not updating it's because I forgot, and you should spam my wall to get me to remember. I'll try and update every week or so. If you want me to update sooner SPAM MY WALL. If I stop updating this, you are the ones at fault, not me. I'm telling you now: PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF I'VE FORGOTTEN TO UPDATE BECAUSE I PROBABLY WILL DO THIS FREQUENTLY. Thank you so much, you guys are awesome.

Love and Kisses,
Lady

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PROLOGUE

The soldier turned down the hallway and walked to the third door on the right. From the outside the room looked no different than any of the others in the hall. The soldier knew differently. This room seemed to whisper promises of blood and betrayal. Many tales were told about what lay behind the wooden door. The soldier couldn’t help but feel a bit uneasy as he knocked on the door. He didn’t need to wait long for admittance into the room.
“Come in.” The soldier did so. “I’ve waited four days to hear from you. What took so long?” said the man in a flowing black cloak. The man, along with his choice of attire, looked remarkably out of place in the unremarkable room. Bookshelves lined one of the walls, and the desk that the man sat at was covered with maps and papers.
The man, in contrast with his unorganized desk, had an aura of formality surrounding him. His black hair was styled in a neat fashion and his face was shaven. His clothing wasn’t uncommon in its color or weave, but it appeared as if not a thread was out of place.
“I apologize for the inconvenience, Sir,” The soldier said, respect and awe threaded into his words. “Some of the recruits were very skilled.”
“I hope so. That was the plan,” The man said without emotion, fingering his letter opener. The soldier shivered. Some of the guardsmen had told him stories about that letter opener. It was said that the blood that had been shed with the small knife had turned the diamond at its hilt red. Suddenly aware of his silence, the soldier cleared his throat.
“Would you like me to list the skilled recruits?” he said quickly, trying to cover up his lack of speech. The man in the black cloak nodded. “There was a knife thrower named Luke with spectacular instincts. He knew we were coming for him, but he didn’t expect us to know his strengths. We didn’t lose any men to him, but it took quite a bit of planning. That is one reason why we were late.”
“I’m not interested in hearing your excuses. Continue on.” The man in the flowing black cloak had a way of making you feel inferior with scarcely a glance in your direction. The soldier was beginning to understand why the other soldiers had voted him—the newest addition to the guards—to inform the cloaked man about their tardiness.
“Of course,” The soldier mumbled. “There was a mage, Rora, who had tremendous skill. I suspect she is born of the High Ones.” Actually, the soldier suspected no such thing. He had overheard the magic teachers talking about the mage, and that was where this idea had come from. “She had badly injured one of the soldiers sent to retrieve her. She herself was injured with a fire spell.” The man in the black cloak simply nodded for the soldier to continue. He seemed almost uninterested. “It took nearly ten men to take down a boy named Shorlorn. He had tremendous strength and carried many weapons. In the process of getting the boy here this morning, he was critically injured.”
“I will speak with the soldier responsible later. Give them my message and have them meet me here tomorrow at this time.”
The soldier nodded, wishing he was not the one to give the bad news. He himself had yet to be punished, but stories about the man in front of him had reached every corner of the world. “There was one other. His name was Talon.” The man, who was previously running his fingers across the binding of a book, straightened his back and gave the guard his full attention.
“Go on, please.” Although his face spoke of indifference, his body language suggested rapt attention.
“He is a very skilled swordsman, and he had a partner. A girl named Annabel. No matter how many soldiers were sent their way, they defeated them together. Today, just a few hours ago, we managed to separate them and take the boy. His injuries were minimal.” The soldier didn’t dare ask why they were told not to take the girl as well, as she seemed as good, if not better, than the boy.
“Overall, the job was carried out well. Please relay this to the rest of the guards and soldiers. You are dismissed.”
The soldier nodded his head respectfully and exited the room. Once outside, he could breathe freely. He had known when he accepted this job that it would not be easy. Nothing at Battle Camp ever was.

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Thank you very much for getting this far, it means a great deal. If you'd like me to change the formatting at all to make this easier to read, I'd be happy to do so. Also let me know if you have any questions whatsoever. I'd be happy to answer them!

All comments, questions, critiques, and haters are welcome here--I don't discriminate. If you want to hate, though, please be creative about it. Engage my senses with some vivid imagery explaining how terrible my story is.

Once more, thank you very much.

 

Actually, there is no "Volume 1." The V in the Subject stands for version, not volume, so this is the second version of the first book in the series.

Sorry for the confusion!

 

Oh my gosh, really? Thank you so much! Eek! Thank you thank you thank you!

 

Whoa! Look at me. Two updates in one week? Unheard of!

Here's the first chapter. I hope you enjoy it!

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CHAPTER ONE
Talon

Talon woke up quickly, thinking some loud noise had startled him awake. The strange feeling of being jerked awake was actually due to the magical bindings keeping him unconscious being released. It was like having a blindfold ripped off of his eyes.
Talon sat up to discover that he was in a room full of people around his age in various states of waking up. Before he could observe his surroundings more carefully, the metallic scent of blood caused his stomach to roll. After a quick check of his body, Talon deduced that the blood was not his own. Although he had a few small cuts and bruises, he had no substantial injuries.
Talon looked to his left to see a pair of shockingly green eyes staring at him. The girl they belonged to had long, white hair and seemed to be absorbed in her thoughts. Her hair was white, but her face was youthful. The girl held her right arm close to her body. It seemed to be burnt, but there was no blood. Talon noted this then turned to his right. He immediately regretted this decision.
A boy, perhaps a year older than Talon, was lying on his stomach surrounded by a pool of blood. He didn’t seem to be conscious. Talon had a strong stomach, but the sheer amount of blood was enough to make anyone edge away. Mages rushed around him, using their powers until they were spent. One of them collapsed onto the floor after overworking herself. With the combined effort of the mages, Talon watched as the gash on the boys back faded to a scar. There was no doubt in Talon’s mind that the boy would have died if it were not for the healers.
One of the mages broke away from the group surrounding the boy and approached Talon. The man seemed worn out from healing the impressive wound, but he hadn’t nearly used all of his magic.
“Would you like me to heal your cuts?” the man asked, politely.
“Sure,” Talon said, not quite knowing what to expect. He had seen healings before besides the one he just witnessed, hadn’t he?
The magic, unseen without the aid of Talon’s own magic, made quick work of his few injuries. The man gave Talon a polite smile and then went over to the white-haired girl. Before he could say a word, the girl thrust out her injured arm. She didn’t seem aware of her actions as she was still staring off into space. The man healed the burn on her arm. It was obvious to Talon that it took a lot more work than his small cuts had.
Talon followed the man with his eyes as he weaved his way across the room, healing everyone’s injuries. Only one person refused the healer’s help, insisting that he was fine. He had several leather knife sheaths sewn together and strapped in an “x” around his torso. The boy inspected his knives as if for the first time. Talon ran his fingers over the hilt of his sword. It was covered in a thin layer of leather attached with a thin but durable wire. Talon felt comfortable with this weapon by his side, although he couldn’t remember using it ever before. He was positive that he could wield it with confidence.
The boy to Talon’s right stirred. He sat up seeming a little stiff, but otherwise fine. Talon saw that he had one sword attached to his belt and two that he strapped across his back after pulling his tattered shirt back on. Talon imagined having that much metal on him. The swords by no means looked light, but the boy seemed very strong. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and turned to Talon.
“What… what’s going on?” the boy asked. A few other people had started murmuring to each other as well.
“I’m not sure. I don’t think anyone here does,” Talon answered truthfully. He looked around the dim room. The only light came from torches placed at regular intervals on the wall. The whole place looked like some kind of manmade cave. “Do you know where we are?”
“Not a clue. I’m Shorlorn,” he said, not seeming too concerned. Talon wouldn’t either with that many weapons.
“Talon,” he said, starting to look for a way out. If there was no explanation soon, he wanted to leave. There seemed to be only one exit; double doors guarded by two men. Talon thought he could take them on his own, but he couldn’t remember doing that before. In fact, he couldn’t remember ever fighting before. “Hey,” Talon said, waving a hand in front of the girl to his left. She didn’t respond. “Are you okay?” There was still no response. He turned back to Shorlorn.
“What do you remember?” Shorlorn asked as he unstrapped the swords from his back and examined them.
“Nothing,” Talon admitted, deciding to trust this boy. “What about you?”
“Same as you.” The boy smiled. He may have seemed older and stronger than Talon, but when he smiled he just seemed like a really big kid.
“I can’t even remember if I should remember anything.” Talon’s head started to hurt just trying to wrap his head around this situation. He had to get a grip. Think. There was something going on here. “I just need to think. Maybe I can remember… something.”
Talon closed his eyes. He didn’t know what he should think of. What was important? What was important to him? Talon ignored the persisting pain in his head and continued to repeat these questions. An image was appearing in his mind. Talon couldn’t be sure if he had conjured it out of desperation or if it was a real memory. Either way, he explored it.
The image was hazy, but it was of a person. The person had blonde hair that was long enough to identify them as a girl. The image inspired something within him. He knew this person. This girl was important to him.
“Hello?” Shorlorn asked. His words dragged the image away from Talon and brought him back to reality. A feeling of loss replaced the one of familiarity that he felt when he saw the girl. “So, did you remember something?”
“I think so, but I’m not sure. If I did remember—”
“That’s it!” The girl sitting next to Talon finally spoke. She turned to look at Talon, her mind no longer seeming to be disconnected from her body. “Memories,” she said as if this one word explained everything. “I have to do something about this.” Once again the glassy-eyed look slipped over her eyes replacing her momentary excitement.
“I wish she wouldn’t do that,” Talon said, frowning. He ran his hand over the floor, still trying to figure out where he was. His hand came up dirty. He examined his fingertips. They were covered in a fine red-brown dust. He brought it too his nose and inhaled. It smelled of must and something else. Something metallic. At first Talon wrote it off as the lingering sent of blood from before, but after closer inspection, Talon realized his mistake. “Iron,” he declared, holding his hand up for Shorlorn to see.
Shorlorn ran his own hand over the ground and inspected it. “I guess. How did you know?”
“I’m not sure. I just know. It’s like my brain supplies me with information, but not memories.” Talon saw red veins of the mineral surrounded by dark grey rock in the walls. “Yes, it’s definitely iron. We seem to be underground. Why would they, whoever they are, put all of us in an iron mine? I think there are other minerals here, too.” Talon saw other colors in the floor, walls, and ceiling that suggested a kind of metal that he couldn’t identify.
“I don’t know, but I get the feeling that we’re going to find out. I mean, they can’t just expect us to sit around here forever, can they?”
“No, you’re right. They’re waiting for someone. They seem to be nervous, too.” The mages, having done their job, were gathered in a fidgeting cluster against one wall. Even the guards seemed uneasy. Talon did a quick headcount. “There are sixteen… captives including you and me, seven mages, and two guards in this room. I’m sure there are more guards somewhere, but I’m not sure about the mages or captives,” Talon reported with certainty.
“Do you really think we’re captives?” Shorlorn asked, dubiously.
“No, I was joking. I’m sure they’d be completely willing to let you out of that door if you wanted to go.” Even though Talon remembered nothing, sarcasm came naturally to him.
Shorlorn chuckled. “Okay, point taken. But I still don’t—”
Shorlorn was cut short by a banging noise as the doors opened up. The guards and mages straightened their backs respectfully as a man, who was dressed in a black cloak, entered the room. He was followed by two guards who took their places by the original two. Captives edged out of his way, making a path for the man to walk in. Although his cloak brushed the dusty ground, it didn’t make a sound, nor did it get dirty. The only sound in the room was of breathing, and even that seemed muffled.
The man walked to the front of the room, seeming to tower over everyone despite his average stature. He looked powerful. He even seemed to smell powerful. Talon understood why the mages and guards seemed nervous. Talon’s own fear tainted his mind, but he pushed that away. This was the man behind everything. This was why they were all here. Talon tried to glean what he could about this man from his appearance. It was a frustrating task. He was of average height. His features were average as were his clothes. Even his shoes seemed average. The only remarkable thing about him was his pale skin and dark hair.
“Welcome,” the man said, in an average voice with no trace of an accent. Despite this, it demanded absolute attention. “Welcome to Battle Camp.”

 

Sorry, sorry, sorry! I am SWAMPED right now with homework (why oh why did I take all honors classes?) and on top of that I'm finally taking Driver Ed (shoot me now pls), so I have zero time to do the homework... *sigh*

ENOUGH EXCUSES! Here is chapter two. Enjoy! (aslo,-- aslo? ASLO! LAZLO! Also, I have a tumblr. Do you have a tumblr? I would love to communicate with you and follow you if this is the case in the tumblr-sphere. I am a fandom blog, though, jtlyk.)
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Chapter Two
Rora



As soon as she was remotely conscious, Rora dragged herself out of the magical bindings that kept her asleep. She was the first one to wake, but the others soon followed. As soon as she was completely awake, she knew something was wrong. She felt a slight tingling sensation that made her skin itch. She knew that this was bad, but she wasn’t sure why. She lifted her right arm up to scratch her left one, but decided against it when a dull pain grew sharper. She looked down to see she was injured and held that arm protectively to her chest.
Something’s going on, Rora knew immediately. I should be… But before she could complete the thought, all memories of where she should be slipped from her head like water down a drain. Rora retreated into her mind, hoping to find some answers there. She magically detached her conscious from her body and explored her mind. It was strangely empty in her head. There was plenty of information there, but something was missing. The facts were all there, but she couldn’t figure out how she knew them. As she traveled deeper into her mind, she grew less and less conscious of her body, but her arm no longer hurt, so with what control over her body she had left, she relaxed.
The deeper she travelled, the emptier her brain got. Once Rora was so deep she no longer was aware of her body at all, she knew something was incredibly wrong. There was something lurking in the back of her mind, and the closer she got, the more her skin itched. She was almost there, when she was jerked back into her body by a word.
“If I did remember—”
“That’s it!” Rora exclaimed, finally understanding what was missing. She understood what was wrong. “Memories.” Her voice seemed to echo in the empty depths of her mind. “I have to do something about this,” she said, more to herself than the boy who had made her aware of her missing memories.
Once again she dove into her mind, ignoring everything but the thing lurking in the very back. Once she made it, she stared in awe. It was a mind block, as she had come to suspect. She had never seen one so beautifully crafted. It was huge, expanding forever in both directions. It was perfectly smooth and incredibly tall. There was no way to climb over this or walk around it. She didn’t know how to face this. All Rora knew what that she was going to get her memories back somehow.
She searched her mind for her magic. It was right at the center. Her magic was a perfect silver sphere shining like a beacon of hope against the dark shadows the mind block created. She would have to improvise because she didn’t know how to destroy this mind block. She took what was the equivalent to a handful of magic and threw it as hard as she could at the dark wall in front of her. The magic did nothing. Half of it absorbed into the mind block, and the other half bounced back at her. Rora gritted her teeth, and tried again, only with a lot more magic. The magic slammed against the wall. This time, there was a small dent in the wall. It was almost unnoticeable.
This was going to take a long time. Rora continued to throw her magic against the wall, and the dent grew steadily bigger. The results were slow and unrewarding, but Rora kept at it. Rora was about to throw more magic at the wall, but she felt a dragging sensation. She turned to see someone else’s magic pulling her out of her own mind. She spun back around to see the wall fading into the background. She didn’t make a sound as her consciousness reattached itself to her body. She looked up to see a man dressed in a black cloak staring right at her.
“As I was saying, this is Battle Camp. Your home. Here you will train for a possible battle. You will become the heroes of this generation. You have all been selected because of your talents. I believe you can endure the training set out before you. You will not do it alone. No, you will have a team.
“In each team there will be a commander, a mage, an archer or knife thrower, and a protector.” People whispered aloud, wondering what position they would be chosen to fill. Rora didn’t need to guess. She knew she would be the mage. “When I call your name, I want you to stand up and walk over to me. Commander, Alex.” The man paused. “Hurry up now, we don’t have all day.” A boy with dark brown hair and matching eyes walked up to the front of the room seeming dazed. “Mage, Jonas. Archer, Ari. Protector, Patrick.” They all walked to the front without hesitation after their names were called. “Follow the guard out.” The four of them walked silently towards the door where a guard detached himself from the other three and led them down the hallway.
“Commander, Talon.” The boy sitting next to her, the one who had helped her discover her the mind block, stood up and walked to the front on the room with squared shoulders. He seemed to command attention almost as much as the man in the cloak did. Rora noticed that most of the people in the room had their eyes trained on him as he stood in front of the room. “Mage, Rora. Knife thrower, Luke. Protector, Shorlorn.” Rora stood up along with a large boy with three swords and another boy with sandy blonde hair and several throwing knifes. “Follow the guard,” the man said, his eyes on her commander, Talon. When they reached the door, he started up again. “Commander, Derrick. Mage…”
The hallways were brightly lit with torches, and the only sound was of their feet hitting the ground. The guard led them through a maze of hallways that Rora did not pay attention to. Instead, she observed her “team.”
The knife thrower, Luke, was closest to her. He seemed to be the most nervous out of all of them, but he hid it well. Rora did a quick spell to discover how everyone was really feeling. Luke was a lot more nervous than he let on. Shorlorn, their protector, was hungry, but that was about it. It amused Rora that he wasn’t worried at all. Their commander Talon’s emotions consisted of skepticism, disbelief, and a healthy dose of doubt. He started when she touched his mind to discover his emotion. He swung his head around to make eye contact with her. Rora realized that he had to have magic to be able to detect her.
Before he could ask what she had done, the guard said, “This is your room that you will share.” They walked in, but the guard stayed outside. Rora chose the room closest to her, the one on the front left. Luke was behind her and Talon was beside her. Shorlorn took the remaining room. Once they were situated, the soldier walked in. There was a large pole in the center of the room, about a foot and a half in diameter. The soldier grabbed a wooden shaft that was sticking out of it and pulled. An opaque white cloth came out with it. “This is to section of the room for privacy. You’ll notice that each room contains a bed, a desk, and a dresser. In your dresser there are three copies of the outfit you are wearing. In—”
“Wait, why copies of our outfits? Why not something like a…” Talon struggled to find the word he was looking for. “A uniform?” he said, finally.
“What you’re wearing is what you’re most comfortable in,” the guard answered. “Now, in the bottom drawer you will find your battle suit. You will not need that yet. On your desk you will find the materials necessary to complete your assignments. An extra pair of shoes can be found under your bed. All will be explained to you once you have been through every one of your classes. Classes will be starting very soon. Take the map on top of your dresser and go to the Training Room.” The guard exited their room without another word.
“Classes already?” Luke asked, picking up the map and examining the marked parchment.
“I guess so,” Talon said, sitting on the edge of his bed.
Rora knelt down to examine the extra pair of shoes beneath her bed. The soft slippers were exact replicas of the ones she had on her feet. Some mage must have created them while she was still unconscious.
“Rora, are you coming?” asked Luke. He stood in the doorway waiting. Everyone else had left. “It is Rora, right?”
“Yes, my name is Rora. I’ll be right there,” she said, sliding the slippers back underneath her bed. She stood up and brushed the red-brown dirt off of her white dress. When it wouldn’t come off, she used a simple cleaning spell and walked towards Luke. He was standing open mouthed in the doorway. “What?” Rora asked.
“It’s just…. That was really cool. You just waved your hands and it was clean.” Luke held the door open for her, and she stepped out.
“Yeah, well, I am a mage. We can do some pretty cool things.” Rora jogged a little to catch up to Talon and Shorlorn, who were talking in low voices about something.
“So I’ve gathered,” Luke murmured. “What do you think about having to take orders from our ‘commander’ Talon?” Luke didn’t seem too thrilled about it.
“I haven’t really thought about it, I guess. I don’t want to have to take orders from anybody. I just hope that he can keep a level head in a stressful situation and give clear orders. That is, if we have to listen to him.”
“I’d imagine you would have to take orders from me,” Talon said, a small grin on his face. “I just hope I can trust you to trust me. That, and to shield your spells when you want them to be secret.”
Rora glared. “Maybe I didn’t want it to be secret. Maybe I wanted you to know—”
“What? Wanted me to know that you were poking around in my brain? I don’t think so.” Talon narrowed his eyes at her.
Rora looked at him, confused. Didn’t he know that it was just a simple emotion spell? The answer was clear: No. He did not. “I just wanted to know how you were feeling,” Rora said. Talon wrinkled his brow in confusion. “It was just to see your emotions.”
“Oh,” Talon said. “That’s good to know.” Talon stopped right outside of what their maps said was the Training Room. “Look, I’m going to make the decision to trust all of you right now. There’s something going on here, and I’m not sure what, but I’ll need allies to find it out, and so will you. Okay?”
Rora nodded, having a newfound respect for Talon. If he could tell something was up wanted to find out what, she would follow him. Maybe she would tell him about the mind block later. Luke and Shorlorn also nodded. Talon smiled at them, meeting everyone’s eyes.
“I’m glad I can trust you,” he said, and opened the doors to their first class.
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So, how many of you read the terrible first version I posted, like, four years ago? I'm just wondering because I want to fangirl over my characters (how pathetic, right?) and their budding ships but I don't want to spoil anything for you.

Important notice: Dog goes woof, cat goes meow, bird goes tweet and mouse goes squeak. Cow goes moo, frog goes croak and the elephant goes toot. Ducks say quack, and fish go blub, and the seal goes ow, ow, ow. But there's one sound that no one knows... What does the fox say?

LOVE YOU ALL.

Good night, dear readers.

Good night...

 

Here you all are! It's nice to know that so many of you have read the first one and are still reading this one.
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Chapter Three
Luke



Luke may have nodded to Talon after his speech, but he had yet to make a decision regarding trusting him or not. His instincts told him that Talon would stay true to his word, but Luke didn’t know if he could even trust himself. Luke looked at his shoes and pondered this as he walked into the Training Room.

“Hello! You must be my first class,” an overly cheery voice greeted them. Luke looked up to see a tan, blonde woman so looked athletic. “I’m going to be your Training teacher. I’ll ring this bell,” she paused to ring it, a big brass bell in one corner of the large cave room. “at the beginning and end of every class. Now, I would like you to line up in this order: commander, protector, archer, mage.” Luke took his spot. “Oh! It seems we have a knife thrower in this group. How wonderful!” The blonde woman said. “Now, you may refer to me as ma’am. The rules in this room are, one, you must be respectful, and two, you must follow orders. Following orders is very important. Now, I’m going to lead you through some stretches and then teach you some basic stances when using a sword. Not all of you will have to use a sword in your lifetime to defend yourself, but it’s very important to know how to use one. That’s why we’re starting with that.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Luke said, along with all of his teammates, scowling at the way she treated them like they were children. He followed her through several stretches, and then learned three simple stances. Luke thought they were easy, but Rora seemed to be struggling to stay balanced. The teacher hardly took notice. She seemed to be examining Talon and Shorlorn, who performed the stances as if they were second nature.

“Alright, now that I’ve taught you the stances, why don’t we put them to use?” our teacher asked, pointing to a tan mat in the middle of the room. It didn’t look as if it would provide much cushion if one were to fall on it, Luke thought. “Shorlorn, Talon, come stand on this mat and put on the padding here. Good, good. Now, I want you two to spar! Okay?”

Luke’s first thought was to feel bad for Talon. Shorlorn was almost twice his size, and he had three swords! Then Luke felt relieved that he wasn’t going to be the one fighting Shorlorn. He would surly fail. Luke watched Talon look at Shorlorn as if from a whole new perspective. In a way, he was. He had previously seen him as an ally. Now, he was an enemy. Luke would have some serious respect for his commander if he managed to pull this off.

“You two can start whenever you’re ready,” our training teacher said, stepping away from the mat. She crossed her arms in anticipation and stood on the balls of her feet as if ready to leap into the battle herself.

Shorlorn and Talon both drew their swords. Shorlorn still seemed baffled at having to fight Talon, as he was so much larger. Talon just seemed to be calculating his odds of winning. If his face was anything to go by, they were in his favor. Luke smiled slightly. The poor guy actually thought he had a chance. Shorlorn decided to make the first move and took a swing at Talon. Talon just stepped out of the way, without swinging his own sword.

Shorlorn was confused, but he swung again and again. Talon continued to dodge, not bothering to use his sword. Every time Shorlorn swung his blade, Talon would nimbly shuffle out of the way. Luke could see sweat forming on Shorlorn’s brow. He seemed to be tiring out, while Talon seemed absolutely fine. Then Talon struck. It was so fast that if Luke had chosen that moment to blink he would have missed it. Surprised, Shorlorn let his guard down and his sword went flying. Luke cringed at the sound it made when it collided with the stone wall. Shorlorn held his hands up in a surrender position, as Talon’s sword touched his throat. He seemed dazed and unsure of what had happened.

“Well done, Talon!” the teacher said clapping. “Very well done!”

“Thank you, Ma’am,” Talon said, winking at her. He was quite the charmer.

“Do you have any words of wisdom to offer your opponent?” she asked, seemingly unaffected by Talon’s playful wink.

“Yes, actually.” Talon turned to Shorlorn.

“Of course he does,” Rora muttered. “He has to share his infinite knowledge with all of us, doesn’t he?”

Luke laughed quietly. Talon turned and gave a smug grin. Somehow he had heard the quiet comment. Rora turned red.

Turning back to Shorlorn, Talon became surprisingly serious. “Strength isn’t everything. In every battle there is power, and you have to be the one controlling it to win. Strength does give you power, but I regained that power by tiring you out. You have to think strategy.”

It was very smart, and Luke understood that Talon knew what he was talking about. He didn’t voice this aloud because he didn’t want Talon to overhear and smile that smug grin again. It made Luke feel inferior and silly. He imagined Rora, who was just getting control of her flaming cheeks, felt the same.

“Strategy is definitely a big part in swordplay,” our teacher agreed. “Now, it’s Luke’s and Rora’s turn!” Neither Luke nor Rora moved. “Come on, you two! Get on the mat and take a practice sword. I know you’re inexperienced, but you’ll catch on right away.”

If “right away” meant never, she was spot on. The awkward mock-battle was humiliating compared to Talon and Shorlorn’s. Rora could barely lift her sword, and she kept falling down because she couldn’t balance. Luke was a bit better but not by much. With the added advantage of being able to lift his sword, he won the battle.

“Great job, Luke!” the teacher said, a false smile plastered onto her face. “Now, both of you, I’d like to show you a few tricks over here.”

The training teacher led them over to a different mat and had Talon and Shorlorn demonstrate a couple of ways to disarm an opponent, and then they moved on to what Luke was dreading.

“Now, it’s time for archery. Or, in Luke’s case, knife throwing. If you’ll all just watch me, I’ll show you how to assemble a bow.” After learning the basics with a bow, Shorlorn, Talon, and Rora all got to shoot one. The teacher walked over to Luke. “I’ll give you a few pointers if you need them, but first I’d like you to show me what you can do. Okay?”

With a dry mouth, Luke nodded. They said he was a knife thrower, but was he really? He wiped the sweat off of his hands onto his shirt, and then pulled a knife from its sheath. He took a deep breath and steadied his hands. The constant tic-tic of arrows hitting the target calmed him. He pulled his hand so the hilt of the knife was by his ear… and threw it. With a flick of his wrist, the knife slammed into the center of the target with a resounding noise. Or, perhaps that was just the ringing in Luke’s ears. He threw another knife. And then another. He went faster and faster, gaining confidence with every knife. Once he had emptied every sheath, he allowed himself to breathe.

“Well, looks like I don’t need to help you, after all,” the teacher said, a twinkle in her eye as if she had known this all along. Luke examined her retreating figure, thinking that possibly she knew quite a bit more than her cheery exterior let on.

Luke looked at his teammates, who had stopped shooting to watch him. Talon was grinning and shaking his head.

“I don’t see why we have to learn to shoot a bow when we’ve got you on our team,” he said. Rora nodded in agreement and looked at her target. Luke looked, too. She was doing a lot better than she had been with a sword. In fact, none of them were terrible, but Talon was right. Luke didn’t see the need for them to learn to shoot, either. He was better than the three of them combined, and he didn’t feel bad about thinking this. It was the truth, and everyone knew it.

“Oh, dear!” our teacher exclaimed. “It seems that we’ve run out of time. Your next class is in the magic room. Be quick about pulling your arrows out of the target.” Luke pulled each of his knives (which were embedded in the target all the way up to the hilt) out of the target as fast as he could. Once he had them all in his sheaths, the teacher rung the bell. “Off you go!” she said, smiling.

Luke walked out of the Training Room with Rora.

“You’re not half bad at archery,” he commented.

Rora flushed pink. “Actually, what you mean is that I’m not half bad at magic.”

It took Luke a few seconds to understand. “You were using magic? Did it ever occur to you to try? You could be good,” he said, frowning.

“I did try, and I couldn’t hit the target if it were twice its size!” Rora complained. “There’s only one thing I’m good at, and that’s magic.”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” Luke said. “You’re probably good at a lot of things. When I know you better, I’ll let you know what they are.”

“I can tell you one of them,” Talon said from behind them. “You are spectacular at complimenting me.” Rora glared at him, but Talon just grinned. “What? It’s true. You said I had infinite knowledge and that I’m so nice because I’m sharing it with all of you.”

“I did not say that!” Rora said vehemently.

“You didn’t? Do enlighten me. What did you say?” It was clear to Luke that Talon was teasing her, but Rora didn’t seem to notice.

“I said…. Okay, maybe I did say that you had infinite knowledge, but I was joking! And... and you knew that. Just… Ugh!” Rora tore Luke’s map out of his hands and stomped off to find the magic classroom on her own.

“Looks like we’re not going to get along,” Talon said, holding back a smile. “If she can’t take a joke, she’s not going to survive with me sleeping in the same room as her.”

“Come on, let’s get to magic so you can apologize,” Shorlorn said.

“Apologize?” Talon said, seeming genuinely confused. “I did nothing wrong. Surely she’ll realize that.”

“Maybe.” Luke scratched his head. “But if she doesn’t, Shorlorn’s right. You’ve got to apologize. We’re a team, remember?”

“Yeah, all right,” Talon agreed. “I’m not sure if I’m good at apologizing.”

Luke stared at him dubiously. “You can’t say ‘I’m sorry’ to Rora?”

“No, I can. I just don’t think I’ll be very good at it,” Talon said, thoughtfully. “I’m sorry,” he tested. “No. I’m definitely not good at apologizing.” Luke and Shorlorn just stared. “What?” Talon asked. “What?”

Before they walked into their Magic classroom, Luke decided two things. One of those things was that Talon was definitely one of a kind. The other was to trust him.
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Well, there you have it.