Taitenschild

8-1 || Winged Blasphemers (Part I)

'Trainees!' bellowed Sten. 'Hold and gather!'

The warrior-trainees sighed in relief as the words cut through the middle of their hundred-and-somethingth repetition of an unarmed combat drill. After hours of practising punching, kicking, blocking and falling in sequence, even the strongest of the lot were bruised and fatigued.

Eliah lay flat on the ground where a merciless Loker tossed her during the last drill, staring up at the sun, unable to muster the strength to get up. A shadow dropped across her face as Balint walked over and cocked his head in an expressionless gesture of silent concern.

Behind him, a very grumpy and bruised Ketill – his sparring partner – limped past and grumbled, 'Falling is stupid.'

Eliah groaned and propped herself up onto her elbows. 'I never thought I'd say this, but I think I actually agree with him.'

Balint frowned. 'I would have thought someone who falls as often as you would understand the point of this training.' He offered her a hand. 'If you didn't know how to fall properly, you'd injure yourself a lot more. Just look at Ketill.'

Eliah pulled a face but didn't disagree. Exhausted, she let Balint pull her to her feet.

'Thank you,' she muttered.

He just shrugged. Together, they moved to join the others. Sune glanced sideways and inclined his head as Eliah slipped into line beside him and Loker. Loker, however, frowned and opened his mouth to say something. He was quickly shoved aside by Balint as the bigger boy took up the spot between him and Eliah.

Rubbing his shoulder, Loker scowled up Balint and kicked him lightly on the ankle.

Balint blinked at him. 'What?'

Loker lowered his voice to a hiss. 'Don't act like it's not obvious. You've been following her around like some kind of loyal dog since the incident with Sune. She did something to you at the Temple, didn't she?'

Balint shrugged. 'Not really. It was more that I did something to myself.'

'You won't get anything out of being nice to her, Balint. Just look at her; she's trouble waiting to happen.'

Balint's eyed Loker carefully, lips pressed together to hide his thoughts.

The other youth glared back. 'What?' he snapped.

'Mother Helene once said something similar about you.'

Loker went stiff, but any response he may have had went unsaid. A shadow blocked out the sun as the two boys looked up and found Sten standing right in front of them, staring them down.

'Are you two done conspiring?' asked the Trainer, his voice dry.

'Yes, sir,' said Balint.

Loker just looked down at his feet and mumbled something along the lines of an apology.

Sten eyed them for a moment longer, and then sighed and cast his eye across the entire line. 'There will be a Feast today. I've received word from the Marshal that Tyrant Ylva and the Titans will be returning from their trip beyond the Gate, and they will be escorting a small party of Aeren.'

He paused as the warrior-trainees digested that information, the looks on their faces ranging from open disgust to barely hidden excitement. He cleared his throat loudly and they stood at attention once again.

'It is expected, trainees, that you will treat our... guests with the utmost respect. The Aeren are a proud and cunning people, and they have not set foot on this mountain in over a century. Any perceived slight may be used to break the Treaty, so be on your guard and mind your tongues. Understood?'