The training fields were covered in heavy, gray fog as the morning broke. The rogues were already drawn and prepared, but the scent of the last battle was still present, with half of the ground coated in ash. New recruits made up half. The survivors were the others, and they stared at me as if unsure whether to bow or retreat.

Matilda and Maya were near the field, but Matilda's expression was mysterious and her arms were crossed. Edwin had likewise retreated, staring at me while writing on a ...