Tei day was the day I would finally learn something about the medieval weapons favored in the Union. I was excited to learn, as it was a huge blind spot for me despite having spent my whole life fighting.

  Only Ressa among my roommates was absent for this one. She’d chosen Divination, which made perfect sense considering her slight build.

  The class was in a large hall, and standing against the wall was a series of long wooden poles with cloth-covered padding the size and shape of basketballs on one end.

  I followed Torma, Yoru, and Ellaazi over to them, where each of them picked up a pole that roughly matched their height. I found the closest match for me was a little taller, but on lifting it, it wasn’t horribly heavy, so I selected it and followed my friends to line up.

  The Master arrived a few minutes later and nodded, satisfaction on his face to see us all standing to attention, waiting.

  Name: Karal Oneus

  Title: Master of Weapons

  Level: 40

  Class: Warrior/Tradesman

  “Morning, all,” he said, coming to stand in front of us. He was a barrel-chested, grim-faced Archon with golden hair cropped so short that in certain lights he looked completely bald.

  “Pick a partner and spar. You all know the basic forms of attack and defense now, so the rest of this year is entirely dedicated to practicing them. One lesson a cycle isn’t enough to instill these skills properly into your muscle memory, but I hope most of you are making use of the gym in your free day to hammer home the lessons. Those of you that do will develop into fearsome warriors.”

  I saw a number of heads nodding, including Arun’s, who looked custom built for heavy weapons. To my surprise, I also saw Yoru nodding as well. Having been busy all free day, it struck me that I hadn’t ever asked what the others had been up to. I’d just assumed they’d chilled out all day.

  “Choose your partners and begin. We will be mixing partners up every so often to keep you on your toes.”

  With those words, the class all shuffled off into various positions across the hall, pre-selected partners already chosen. I looked at Torma first, but he’d already paired off with Ellaazi. I felt the big paw of Yoru land on my shoulder.

  “Me and you, Adam. You are still small. But a better fit than either of those two for me. It will be better.”

  “For you or for me?” I said, every inch of Yoru’s seven-foot-plus frame suddenly appearing in high definition.

  “Awesome,” I said, trying not to gulp as I followed him to a space on the floor. “Is this a good time to tell you that I’ve never done anything like this before?”

  He turned to face me, looking genuinely confused. “You have never fought before? I thought fighting was your calling on your home planet.”

  I nodded. “It was. But never with weapons. It was either fists or guns.”

  “Guns?”

  “Machines that fire out little bits of metal very fast.”

  “I see. That is a surprise. We will go slowly, and together, we shall discover how transferable your skills are. To begin with, you’re gripping your training glaive too firmly.”

  I looked down at his hands and saw he did indeed have a loose grip, yet the way he held it suggested a silent readiness. I adjusted, then waited.

  “Ready?” he asked patiently.

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  “As I’ll ever be.”

  He moved fast. Padded glaive swinging around from the side. I jumped back, but he changed the momentum and turned it into a thrust that thumped into my chest and sent me staggering back a few paces.

  I felt embarrassed more than anything. I wasn’t sure how to combat the move, but I knew it wasn’t what I’d done.

  He paused for a moment to let me recover, but I’d already set my feet and went at him with an overhead strike. It was a little wild, and he turned it away with the head of his weapon before smacking me in the ribs with the pole.

  I winced and staggered back. That would leave a bruise.

  Except… I could heal myself now!

  Correction. I could heal myself once Yoru had finished teaching me a lesson. He came forward, same move as before, swinging from the side.

  I jumped back again, and again, he changed the momentum to thrust forward. This time, I turned my body to avoid the blow, and in my joy at a successful evasion, I lost a little focus, and he clobbered me with his next strike, sending me to the floor.

  I sat rubbing my head as he came to stand over me.

  “It appears your skills transfer poorly, Adam.” He leaned forward and offered a hand. I took it gladly, and he hauled me up with a smooth strength.

  “Any pointers?” I asked.

  “Yes. First, remember you have a weapon. Second, remember it has multiple parts and not just the head. Third, remember if you step back, you keep yourself in the pain range. A step back may be prudent with fists, but with a pole arm, it is a recipe for disaster. In a battle, you keep pushing forward, or you will be skewered.”

  I could just about follow what he was saying, but without experience, it was hard to fully comprehend.

  “Can I do your attack slowly and you show me what you would do against it?”

  He nodded. “A fine idea.”

  We set up to fight again, and I mirrored his stance. I brought my weapon around in a wide arc like he had to slash. He brought his weapon up to catch my attack on the mid-shaft. Then he elbowed me in the face, sending me sprawling to the floor.

  Before I knew it, I was being hauled up again, shaking my head.

  “You used your damn elbow! That’s cheating.”

  I could feel his rumble of a laugh in my chest. “What do you think we are doing here, Adam? This is fight training. If you held one of your… guns?”

  I nodded.

  “What happens if your opponent is too close or…”

  I held up a hand. “Stop. I get it. I’m being stupid.”

  “I’m glad you agree. Again?”

  I offered a feral grin, determined not to be embarrassed this time, and swung again. He blocked again and stepped in. I pushed the mid-shaft into him while I regained some distance.

  He slid his weapon around and tried to smash my toes with the butt. I danced out of the way, and he clonked me in the head with the padded part of the weapon.

  I looked up from the ground at the vegetarian monster. “I hate you, Yoru.”

  He rumbled again and offered his hand. His eyes flickered past me as I regained my feet. I looked back to find that the Master was standing watching us.

  “And what exactly is this storm of fecal matter?”

  “This is Adam, Master Oneus. He is new and a novice with heavy weapons.”

  Oneus frowned. “If you are so incompetent with weapons, then why choose my class?”

  It was my turn to frown. There were multiple obvious reasons. I was so tempted to reply with the first that came to mind—I’d already picked enough magic classes, so I was stuck with this one.

  But I wasn’t here to start a crap-slinging contest. Head down, arse up, Adam. You can do this.

  “Sorry, Master Oneus. My world no longer fights with weapons such as these. I’m competent in unarmed combat, and I wanted to broaden my skill base.” I lowered my voice conspiratorially. “And let’s face it, a choice between Divination or Heavy Weapons is no choice at all.”

  He studied me for a painfully long moment before nodding. “Improve fast, Adam Henshaw. Or I will be asking the Dean to remove you as an unwanted distraction.”

  The way he spoke to me made me want to salute, but I held it back.

  “Of course, Master Oneus. It’s top of my list.”

  Seemingly satisfied, he headed off to observe the others in the class.

  Yoru nudged me. “I think he likes you, Adam. Good work.”

  “Likes me? He just threatened to kick me out of the class!”

  “Exactly. You’re still here. That means you’re practically family.”

  I shook my head at the ribbing. “Come on, gigantor, we’ve got work to do.”

  He shook his head. “That is no way to talk to your Heavy Weapons savior.”

  I chuckled. “Maybe not, and before this goes any further, I want to say thank you. I can tell you’ve put a lot into training with this, and I’m holding you back. I promise I won’t take up any more of your time after today. I’ll train on free day to try and not be utterly awful.”

  He thumped me in the chest with the end of his weapon. “We will do it together. I like teaching, and I get a lot from it. The act seems to cement the ideas and theory into my own mind, so do not worry. I am still improving myself.”

  “Very philosophical of you, Yoru. Ellaazi would just bite me, I reckon.”

  “I doubt it,” he replied, a narrow grin on his thin lips. “She has standards.”

  I would have laughed, but he swung the bloody training glaive at me again, and the next two and a half hours were a blur of pain and desperation.

  By the time the lesson had finished, I was utterly exhausted—more so than in any other class. I dragged my feet to Command, where the whole year was present, and was grateful for the well-hidden seats at the back where I slouched and possibly even dozed.

  Three hours later, I was no wiser about command or leadership, and I was in no way ready for Dueling Weapons. So it was with great relief when the teacher finished the third most boring lesson on the timetable and informed us that our Dueling Weapons was off. Apparently, the teacher was away on official business.