Burning Night: A Tale of the Everburning City

Chapter 11, Part 3: Adrian

Adrian ate and drank with giddy eagerness, devouring his food almost as quickly as he set it on his plate. He was grinning as he finished, happily washed his dishes, and practically had to herd a few of his companions towards the practice swords.

"I'm not that keen to have my nose bashed-in, Keates," Gerald muttered, as Adrian handed them practice weapons.

"I'll be gentle," Adrian promised.

"It's Farah I'm worried about," Gerald rebutted. "You have family in Oversight?"

Farah gave Gerald a polite nod. "I'm impressed that you noticed. My sister's an evaluator. She taught me the basics, hoping I'd follw her path."

"Oversight's loss. I'm hoping that being murdered doesn't hurt too much," Gerald said, as he pointed his practice sword at her.

"Keates, you're with me today," Caitlin said. She stopped about eight feet away from him, and held her padded practice sword loosely in her hand, pointed to the ground.

"Why me?" Adrian asked.

"Because I have this feeling that you're going to get really good at this," Caitlin said. She then shifted into a stance, pointing her right foot towards him. "You picked up a Salamander like you were born to it."

"You think so? You and Gerald both crushed target practice," Adrian reminded her. Instinctively, he shifted his left foot and spread his legs wide.

"I've been practising with a Salamander for years," Caitlin reminded him, her expression firm and her words harsh. But she smiled just after she spoke, and gestured with her head towards Farah and Gerald. "Gerald's secretly a Crafter slumming it down here with us, until he becomes an officer and launches a coup to make himself the City's emperor."

Adrian glanced over just as Gerald laughed, just long enough for Farah to thrust forward and connect her practice sword hard into his shoulder.

Adrian scoffed. But as he laughed, he felt somewhere in the back of his awareness as Caitlin lunged at him. Adrian stepped to the side, shifted his weight, and tapped the point of his practice sword into Caitlin's side.

Adrian's blow knocked his friend off balance, and he watched Caitlin tumble forward, landing with her hands spread forward and hitting the ground with an almost comical-sounding grunt.

"See?" Caitlin asked, as she pushed herself to her feet, and shook her head. "You're an ash-bitten natural at this, Keates. You didn't even look at me to know when I moved."

"Just luck, Caitlin," Adrian said, as he set himself in a stance, sword pointed towards her.

"Snowball's chance in the Spire, Keates. Let me show you," Caitlin said, as she stepped forward and began to swing.

Adrain saw the swing before it came, saw both the arc and its range. He leaned left just a little, just under a foot, and felt the wind sweep against his chest as Caitlin's sword passed. Just as it passed, Adrian stabbed at her side with a quick, half-hearted thrust that only cause her to stumble.

"Simmering pus boil!" Caitlin exclaimed, as she limped away from Adrian and clutched at her side. "See? You're a soldier, Keates."

"Shall we test that?" Sergeant Varnell asked. Adrian turned, surprised to find the sergeant standing nearby. "Trask, you'll assist Dremora."

Adrian took two steps backwards, to give himself some space. Elliot Trask was already advancing on him; his practice sword levelled at Adrian's chest.

To his surprise, Adrian could see the mistake in Trask's motion. Elliot's arm was almost fully extended, his weapon no threat until he pulled it back. Adrian lunged at him, dodging just past the outstretched sword and striking Elliot in the chest as he rolled around him.

Caitlin lunged after Adrian, but her movements were easy to read for Adrian, who pushed Elliot into Caitlin's thrust and countered with his own, striking her in the shoulder.

"Spit and ash, Adrian!" Trask said, as he stood up and rubbed at his side. "You have skills."

"No," Varnell corrected Trask. "Adrian knows what fear feels like. Knows it well enough that it doesn't rule him when it gnaws at his guts. Keates, stop goofing around and partner-up with Respelli. The two of you aren't going to learn much from anyone else here. Trask, with Dremora. Raeth, with me."

He heard Gerald mutter something, at which point the old Sergeant moved like a viper and smashed her practice sword into his shoulder hard enough to knock Gerald to his knees.

"Speak up, if you ever want to speak in front of me," Varnell said to Gerald, in a menacing rasp that reminded Adrian of an oncoming storm. "You are here to become a soldier, recruit. And soldiers do not simper."

"Aye, ma'am," Gerald replied, as he rightened himself and took a step back.

"Better. Now, what were you saying, recruit?" Varnell asked.

"I see a hospice bed in my near future, ma'am," Gerald replied, just before he swung his sword at Varnell's chest.

Adrian was surprised. Gerald's swing was swift and straight, but something was missing in the strike, almost as if Gerald were practising the motion rather than trying to hit Sergeant Varnell.

Varnell ducked beneath it and struck Gerald in the stomach. "You're holding back? Why?"

"Habit, ma'am," Gerald responded. "Pulling my punches has been a part of my life since I was ten."

"Well, let's see if we can't get you over that habit," Varnell said, as she discarded her practice weapon.

Even the wind held its breath, as Varnell drew her sword.

"Ma'am," Adrian said, stepping forward.

As Varnell looked at him, he saw her first motion in his mind's eye, a straight thrust, straight between his eyes. He knew he could block it, but he knew he wouldn't dodge the blow to his leg that would follow it.

Yet when she looked at Gerald, standing with one hand open, pointed towards her, all Adrian could see was the sergeant's death.

"Even now, Raeth?" Varnell asked. "I've drawn naked steel that I've used for decades. I remember the Fifth; I remember killing. You understand the danger, but you're not afraid? Why?"

Strangely, Varnell hesitated for a long moment, before she sheathed her sword and turned away. "You're more afraid of yourself. That isn't something I can help you with."

"Keates, Respelli, let's see how you two do against each other," Varnell said, dismissing Gerald. "Everyone else, back to your practice."