Tarrin's sword cut through the air, his arms trembling under the strain. Sweat dripped down his forehead, stinging his eyes.
—Swoosh.
'Again.'
He reset his stance, ignoring the ache building in his shoulders, and swung. The impact rattled up his arms, making his fingers tingle.
"You're leaning too far forward," came a calm voice beside him.
Tarrin flicked his head to the side and caught Sergeant Taylor standing there, her gaze sharp and unreadable.
He gave a quick nod, adjusted his stance, and swung again. "Like this?" he asked, wiping his sleeve across his forehead.
Taylor shook her head, arms crossed. "You're muscling it. Swordwork isn't about strength—it's about flow. Use your whole body."
She lingered long enough to watch one more swing, then, with a small nod, turned away, already moving toward another cadet.
Tarrin exhaled and kept at it, hammering the movement into muscle memory. He lost count of how many times he slashed before the bell rang, signaling the end of the session.
He straightened, glancing around. The others were already filing out, some limping, some grinning, most just exhausted. Not wanting to be left behind, he hurried after them.
"Hey, man, how'd it go?" Riko asked, jogging up with a sheepish grin. A thin cut ran down his cheek like a badge of shame.
Tarrin barked a laugh. "At least I didn't get slapped around by a dummy."
Riko scratched the back of his neck, wincing. "Wait till you fight it yourself, hotshot. It's no joke, I'm telling you."
As they walked, Jayden piped up. "Anyone know what's after lunch?"
Tarrin shrugged. He hadn't bothered looking that far ahead.
"Scarbane introduction," a flat voice said.
Tarrin jolted slightly, turning to find Lucas materialized at his side, hands tucked casually into his pockets, looking as unbothered as if he'd been there all along.
After a short walk to the cafeteria, they grabbed trays and found a table near the back. Lena joined them midway, sliding into a seat with a tired sigh.
Tarrin stared down at the pile of something pretending to be food. It looked like mashed regret.
Wincing, he scooped a bite into his mouth—and blinked in surprise. It wasn't half as bad as it looked.
He was midway through chewing when a cool voice cut through the background noise.
"Can I sit here?"
For a second, Tarrin thought he was hallucinating. He turned, expecting a mistake—and found himself staring straight into Celith's icy eyes.
His mind scrambled for a response. Then instinct kicked in. He flashed an easy grin and tapped the seat beside him like they'd been old friends for years.
"Hey, sure. Why not?"
Celith didn't waste a second. She slid into the seat, her movements sharp and precise, already digging into her food without another word.
Tarrin glanced around the table. Riko's jaw was hanging halfway to the floor. Jayden looked like he'd just spotted a unicorn.
Lena blinked once, clearly surprised but recovering faster. Lucas, of course, remained as stoic as ever, poking at his tray without sparing Celith a glance.
'Unfeeling bastard,' Tarrin thought dryly.
He caught Riko's stunned gaze and mouthed, Told you.
Riko just gawked back, still processing the sudden twist of fate. Jayden, poor guy, looked like this was only the third girl he'd seen in his life, after his mom and Lena.
Breaking the silence before it could choke them all to death, Tarrin leaned slightly toward Celith.
"So, Celith, how's your day treating you?"
She lifted her head slowly, her cold stare pinning him in place.
"Fine," she said, her voice clipped and cool.
Tarrin, naturally, didn't relent. "Saw you earlier with the sword," he said, grinning. "Who taught you? Those moves looked straight out of a bloody movie."
Celith stared at him for a heartbeat before replying, "My grandfather."
Tarrin racked his memory—and then it clicked. 'Right. The Scarlord.'
He leaned forward, undeterred. "Anyway, you want to train together tonight?"
Around him, his tablemates visibly stiffened, already imagining his head flying off his shoulders any second now.
But it never happened.
"Sure," Celith said simply, without even blinking.
The air around the table froze. Even Lucas briefly paused mid-bite.
"Same place as last time?" Tarrin asked, shooting smug looks at everyone sitting there, one after the other.
Riko stared at him like he'd been stabbed in the back. Jayden just looked like he was rethinking reality itself.
The stunned silence was broken when Jayden finally found his voice. "You two... met before?" he asked, sounding about as confident as a kitten in a thunderstorm.
Tarrin turned to Celith, half-expecting her to deny it. Instead, she just nodded, unfazed.
Tarrin grinned wide enough to split his face. The smugness in the air was so thick you could cut it with a knife.
"Well, there you have it," he said, leaning back like he owned the place.
He gestured around the table dramatically. "Celith, I think it's time you met these fine... people." A pause. "Barely people, really."
First, he pointed at Riko. "This is Riko. First guy I met here. Acts like a thug, but deep down, he's softer than a fresh loaf of bread."
Riko just glared at him, deadpan, clearly debating whether to strangle him or sue for slander.
Tarrin moved on without missing a beat. "The golden boy next to him is Jayden. Looks soft, but he's got a bite. Watch your fingers around him."
Jayden stared down at his food, face burning, probably regretting his life choices.
"Then there's Lucas," Tarrin continued, nodding to the boy quietly eating. "Resident nerd. Smart in a terrifying kind of way. But softer than both these clowns combined."
Lucas finally looked up from his tray, giving Tarrin a look sharp enough to cut glass. Tarrin, naturally, didn't even flinch.
"And lastly," he said, turning to the girl beside him, "we have Lena. A true ray of Spire-shine. Honestly, it's a miracle she's willing to hang out with the rest of us degenerates."
He ended the grand introduction with a cocky grin, waiting for Celith's reaction.
She just stared at him, a strange look flickering in her otherwise cold eyes.
Maybe wondering if this idiot had reforged his spine out of steel—or if he'd just been born without a sense of danger in the first place.
Nobody knew what went on inside the frozen fortress of her mind.
Tarrin leaned in slightly, whispering out the side of his mouth, "This is the part where you usually introduce yourself..."
Celith shot him a sharp, cutting look. But after a brief, tense pause, she gave the barest nod, like a queen granting mercy.
"Hello. I am Celith Sahrin," she said, her voice cold enough to frost the air, as if she were greeting a room full of enemies rather than a few bumbling cadets.
A heavy silence followed—until Riko let out a laugh, patting a stunned Jayden on the shoulder. "Come on, even village boy here knows who you are."
Jayden just blinked, looking like he might spontaneously combust from secondhand embarrassment.
Lena, finally shaking off her shock, leaned forward, curiosity sparking in her eyes. "How did you two even meet?"
Tarrin glanced at Celith, giving her a chance to jump in. All he got in return was a blank, dead-eyed stare that practically screamed, Don't you dare.
He sighed inwardly. Figures.
"Well," he said, grinning as he turned back to the table, "it's actually a funny story. Remember the day Felix decided it was a good idea to stab me?"
A few groans and winces echoed around the table. They remembered.
***
The rest of lunch passed without drama. No Felix showing up to stab anyone, no new cadets trying to make a scene.
Just the steady clatter of trays and the quiet hum of conversation, the calm before the next storm.
With Celith now in their ranks, the six of them gathered at the domestic rail station, waiting for their line to arrive.
The platform buzzed with energy—cadets milling about, loud conversations, the occasional bout of laughter—but their group stuck close together.
After about ten minutes, as more and more cadets from their battalion joined the crowd, the train finally pulled in.
The ride was uneventful, filled with the usual dumb jokes, insults tossed like coins, and Riko losing every verbal spar he entered.
Tarrin caught Felix sneaking glances at Celith, looking like he might have a stroke right there in the aisle. Tarrin didn't even bother hiding his grin.
When they disembarked, the sight before them made even his smirk fade.
Massive buildings loomed ahead, made from material so dense and fortified that it practically radiated intimidation.
Tarrin had never seen walls like that—solid, brutal, built to survive a war, not house people.
Sergeant Vincent was already waiting for them, arms crossed, a predatory grin on his face. Tarrin immediately shot a glance at Riko, who returned it with a look of pure dread.
"Alright, sweet cheeks," Vincent called out, voice carrying easily over the crowd, "let's get you pretty little newbies acquainted with the beauties."
Tarrin arched a brow and looked to Riko, silently asking what fresh hell they were about to walk into.
Riko leaned over, whispering just loud enough for their group to hear, "He means the Scarbanes, genius."
Tarrin's stomach sank.
Jayden, oblivious as ever, asked, "Wait, this is a Scarbane containment facility?"
"Of course, man," Riko said, slapping the back of Jayden's head lightly. "Just look at the walls. Ask Lucas what kind of beating they can take."
All eyes swung to Lucas, who withered under the attention and muttered, "They're rated to contain a Scarforged... maybe even two if the bindings are reinforced."
A heavy silence settled over them after that. Tarrin just sighed. 'Perfect. Another day, another chance to die stupidly.'