It was the morning's crisp, dry air on my skin. The training field was springing up, dust rising under feet, and ringing out, the metal swinging true to time at all.

"Keep your guard up!" In the distance, Theo was barking next to the warriors.

I wiped sweat from my brow, gathering my breath. My arms burned, but I didn’t lower my position. The fighter opposite me, a large rogue named Bran, smirked through his mask of filth.

"Are you still standing?" he said in jest.

I circled him and ...