Chapter 18 of 20

Chapter 18 - Early Morning Exercise

September 5

When I turned over in bed, inches from my face and rubbing the sleep from her eyes was Filomena. She looked at me confused for a moment, before backing away. That was when I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. I turned to see a very disgusted Sarah turn and leave.

“Wait, I-”

THUD

“Ow!”

Amy rolled over from across the room, and right off the edge of her bed. Filomena got up and stretched, unconcerned. Sarah was gone.

I sighed. All I wanted at that moment was to go right back to sleep and pretend this had been a dream, but I knew that it was my first day of school, so I rolled off the bed and onto my feet. Plodding over to the dresser, and pulling out my uniform for the day. I had elected to go with trousers, because Ms. Proctor said they would be warmer in the winter. I kind of wished I had been brave enough to choose the skirt.

I washed my face in the little sink in our room, and grabbed my clothes to wait in line for the showers. Filomena silently joined me. I’ve never entirely felt comfortable in girl’s only spaces. I am always worried that I’ll come off as a creep, no matter how innocent my intentions are.

Groundskeeper’s advice about not living my life based on what other people think filled my head. It was solid advice, but difficult to follow in real life. I tried to summon even a fraction of Groundskeeper’s confidence, and walked into the locker room.

The entrance didn’t have a door, just a frame and a winding path that made it entirely impossible for anyone outside to look inside, not that anyone but girls were even able to get onto this floor. There were a dozen shower stalls that doubled as changing rooms and a line in front of each. Girls chatted amiably in line and no one even batted an eye at me. Or Filomena, which was nice but strange. It seemed like anywhere we went, we drew attention.

Freshly showered and changed with no issues, I returned to the room to see Amy struggling to get her cape on.

“Here,” I said, dropping my dirty clothes unceremoniously on the floor by my bed, “Let me.”

“Oh. Thanks, Max! I can’t seem to get the thing to clasp right.”

“Yeah, I had some trouble too at first. Groundskeeper told me to practice it over and over again until I got it right.”

“Who’s that?” Amy gave me a quizzical look.

“Um… that’s kind of a hard question. She’s my…,” I paused searching for the word.

What was she to me? There was a small part of me that just wanted to say she was my mom, but still a sharp pain in my heart at the thought. Calling her my guardian didn’t fully express just how much she had come to mean to me in the short time we had known each other. Groundskeeper would have laughed at me. Not in a mean way, but because she tended to laugh her way out of any awkwardness.

“Hey,” Amy put a hand on mine, “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“I’m not upset or anything,” I sputtered stupidly, “It’s just kind of a whole complicated thing to try and explain.”

I finished clasping the half cape on her, and grabbed my own from the table and swept it on deftly.

“Wow! That looked so cool!” Amy clapped her hands excitedly, “Let’s head down to the common area. I overheard someone saying they were going to tell us what we’re going to do next down there.”

We made our way downstairs, where lots of identically dressed students milled about while a man who seemed to be all muscle stood in the entrance eyeing everyone appraisingly. His dark skin contrasted with the long white hair braided in long braids and pulled back in a ponytail. His goatee was shaved short, and across one eye was the nastiest scar I had ever seen.

The bell gonged again, and a few students rushed in at the last moment.

“I will have your attention,” the man said, his deep voice carrying an intensity that made it clear he was to be listened to, “My name is Hazo Mai Kauri. I understand that may be difficult to remember so you may call me Coach Thickmist. It is my job to ensure that you are all physically fit enough to survive the wilds of the Hollow Lands.”

There was a general murmuring from the students as they attempted to discuss this latest development. Some were excited, others nervous, but it was all silenced with a gesture from Coach Thickmist.

“I also know that many of you did not expect that there would be a physical component to your studies here, but it was our founder’s belief that a sound body leads to a sound mind and a sound mind is the greatest asset to a mage.”

One of the students spoke out, “Coach Thickmist?”

“Yes, there is a question. Can you come to the front so that I may address you face to face.”

There was another murmur among the students as the one who spoke rolled her wheelchair to the front of the crowd.

“Ah, yes, I think I see what you might be about to ask, but please go ahead.”

“Well, as you can probably imagine there is only so much physical activity I can manage given my condition. Is that going to be a problem?”

“Not in the least. It is my job to ensure that you are equipped with the tools you need to survive. I have worked with many students who are disabled in one way or another. There is always a way to work around it, especially with the power of magic at our disposal. I look forward to working with you to achieve your full potential.”

He looked solemnly over the rest of us, “That goes for you all. The Hollow Lands are dangerous not only mentally but physically. What we are training you to do here, if no one has told you yet, is to maintain the balance between our two worlds. That means being able to beat the odds and do what needs to be done. I will be pushing every one of you to what will seem like the impossible, but I assure you that you are capable of more than you think.”

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He paused as we all thought about what he was saying.

“Now if there are no more questions, please follow me to the training grounds.”

He turned and walked out the front door of Den House.

Most of us had to half jog to keep up with the coach’s long strides. He half turned and watched us.

“I see none of you are out of breath yet. Each morning, you will run this route to the Den House training grounds before the second bell. If I see you are not out of breath when you arrive, I will make you run back to the beginning and do it again, until you are.”

We made our way through a wooded area behind the main building of Den House. The trail was well worn, and the dirt was packed hard from what must have been centuries of students going the same way every morning.

“When we arrive,” Coach Thickmist said, “I will pair you up. One member of the pair will come with me and grab two staves. We will begin with a basic attack-block sequence. I expect you to put effort into both your attacks and blocks. The rhythm will be even, I don’t want anyone getting hurt on their first day. Ha. Except maybe the odd bruised finger. It happens, and you’ll quickly learn to avoid hits with your fingers.”

We continued on for a good half an hour through dense woods, before the training grounds appeared. A large circle of wooden poles, thick as old trees, marked off a dirt clearing. There were already older students at the far end, under the watchful eye of a short woman barking commands at the two in the middle who seemed to be having some sort of practice match.

This was my first time seeing the older students. Ms. Proctor had said that the Freshman and Juniors spent the first half of the school year here at the main campus while the Sophomores and Seniors started at the Hollow Lands campus. Part way through the year, unless you failed the midterms and didn’t achieve the rank of Third Circle Neophyte, the two groups would switch.

I wasn’t the only one who had stopped walking and stared at the practice match. The two juniors, one a blonde girl with her hair back in a serious practical braided ponytail, the other a lithe, lean boy with his hair buzzed practically to the scalp he had the faint wisp of a soul patch on his chin. The two were moving in practiced strikes, blocks and parries. Each hit of their staves clacked loudly with the power they were using. Neither held back, or paused, and after only a minute, the match was over. The girl had swept the boy off of his feet, and held the large knobbed end to his throat.

“Bang!” she yelled.

“The match is over! The winner is Veronica. Kevin you need to watch more than just your opponent’s staff. Just because it’s a fight with weapons doesn’t mean that’s all you have to use.”

“Neophytes! To me!” Coach Thickmist bellowed, and we all ran to where we were supposed to be. There were quite a few red faces that looked as red as mine felt.

“You two will be a pair, and you two, and you two…”

“Hey, roomie,” Amy said, “Looks like we’re partners, I’ll go grab the staves.”

“Yeah, sure.”

I was distracted because the girl from that day by the bathroom was waving at me. I waved back and started to walk over to her, when I ran headlong into another student, and fell to the ground with an oomph.

“Watch where you’re going, idiot.”

“Sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Hey, are you alright?” the girl came over and asked.

“Yeah. Sorry about running into you.”

“Just watch where you’re going.”

The boy turned around and started joking with his friends.

“Well, he’s friendly. Anyway, I missed you after the sorting ceremony. I was looking for you, but someone said you had already gone home.”

“Oh, yeah. I… I did. That reminds me, I forgot to ask your name- well, both times we met.”

“Oh, I’m Malissa. Nice to meet you.”

“Hi, I’m Max.”

“That’s a fun name.”

“Thanks, I picked it out myself.”

She looked at me with a face that made me realize that probably didn’t make a lot of sense.

Stupid. Of course she isn’t going to get it.

“Well, I just mean-”

“Hey, you two!” Amy interrupted my stammering explanation, “Max, I got the staves. Here’s yours. You ready? Oh, it’s bathroom girl. You two planning another secret rendezvous?”

“My name is Malissa, and no we are not.”

“Ok! I’m Amy. C’mon Max, let’s go!”

“Sorry. It was nice meeting you.” I said as Amy dragged me away.

We listened as Coach Thickmist explained how to make sure we were far enough away from other practicing groups, what strikes we were practicing and how to block them.

“We will be practicing with full force, but at a slow pace,” he said sternly, “One person will hit while the other blocks, then you will switch and the blocker will attack while the attacker blocks. Go slowly, and no fancy stuff. That will come later.”

Amy and I squared off after making sure we were far enough away from anyone else. We quickly got into the swing of things, Amy attacking and me blocking, then I attacked and she blocked. It was pretty simple once you got the hang of it. We slowly started getting faster.

I didn’t realize that we were going too fast, until Amy swung her staff and I missed my block. I took the blow full force into my upper arm, and felt the bone snap. I almost didn’t realize anything was wrong, until suddenly the pain was demanding my attention, and Amy was beside me asking if I was okay.

“I think I broke something,” I said, surprising myself with how calm I was being.

“Let’s get you to Coach Thickmist, and-”

“Yes, I am already aware. I allowed you to make this mistake because it was likely to be non-fatal, and we can fix you up quickly enough. Before we get you medical attention, what was the lesson you learned, young lady.”

His voice wasn’t judgemental. He wasn’t angry. He seemed as though he only wanted us to have learned something from our mistake, so I tentatively answered, “if something seems simple, that doesn’t necessarily mean that it is?”

“Hmm. I like that, it is not a bad lesson. I was leaning more towards listening to those with experience is the best way to learn. Well, you, what is your name?”

“Amy, sir.”

“Amy, please take your partner to the infirmary.”

“I don’t know where that is.”

“Ah, yes, it is only the first day. Here,” he held out his hand, and a tiny wisp of light hovered above it, “This will show you the way. Follow it closely, the halls of the main building are not as linear as they might seem.”