The next morning, Tavin awoke bleary-eyed to the sun already climbing above the horizon. He was late. He shot up, threw on his boots, and darted out the door. He didn’t bother going down to town, opting instead to cut directly through the forest, running directly to his new makeshift training ground.

His heart thundered as he focused as hard as he could on his destination. It was all downhill, and in his sprint he could feel that he was losing control of his momentum. He ducked ...