Idly gnawing on her lip, Nym stuck her pencil beside her ear, pinching a few strands of hair in her fingers and slowly wrapping a spiral around the writing utensil. The Courier exam was probably her easiest, but it still required some thought, and actually writing the responses was taking more time than she’d expected. Frowning towards the wall-mounted clock, she tugged the pencil from her hair, painfully plucking a hair with it. Her pen moved quickly across the page, describing the optimal response to a situation in which the point of contact for a contract misrepresented something, intentionally and illegally. They’d barely touched the complexities of Courier-government relations in Roose’s lessons, but the long and short of it was to kick the problem up the ladder until someone had the authority to deal with it. If illegal actions had already been committed, it was policy to defer to local law enforcement in addition to internal Courier personnel, and she indicated as much in her answer.
Three or four more not-particularly-complex answers and she was finished. She gave her answers a once-over, nodding with satisfaction when she checked the clock and saw that there were less than ten minutes left in the exam period. Beside her, Loria had her hands folded calmly in front of her, her eyes shut. On the other side, Cliff’s foot was tapping a slow, persistent beat, his chin bobbing along to some silent song. Nym took the time to fold her arms in front of her, burying her head in the crook of her elbow and zoning out until Roose called time. For their first exam, they’d been allowed to leave when they finished, but this time their teacher had some announcements he had to make.
“Alright,” Roose called, standing up from his desk and finding his normal place behind the room’s lectern, “Time’s up. Gather your papers, please.” There was a collective sigh of relief from around the room as all sixteen of the first-year apprentice Couriers deflated simultaneously. It wasn’t that Roose’s exam had been difficult, but this was everyone’s last exam, so they were all pretty happy to see its end, Nym included. A moment later there was a stack of papers in front of Roose, and he beamed around the room. “Congratulations on finishing your exams! I know you are all eager to do – well, whatever it is you intend to do to celebrate your achievement, but before that, I have a few announcements I need to make regarding the third Hands-on and the upcoming harvest festival.” Nym’s ears perked up at mention of the third Hands-on – this was the first time anything had been said about it.
“I know we’re still, ah – basking in the afterglow of the second Hands-on,” Roose continued, earning a snort from Cliff and a sigh from Loria. It was a euphemistic way to describe the ongoing discipline review, to be sure. “However, our next excursion requires a bit more preparation time on our end. Unlike the first and second Hands-on training exercises, each team will be sent to a different location. To help us prepare for that, I’ve got a survey I want each team to fill out.” Loria’s hand immediately shot up, and Roose grinned. “If you are asking, Loria, the survey is about what types of jobs you are interested in completing as Couriers – monster exterminations, repair jobs, personal requests, government requests – things like that.” Loria nodded, her hand falling back down. His description excited Nym a little – her father mostly specialized in monster extermination and other combat-related contracts – security, escorting, things like that – but she wanted to try different kinds of jobs before she decided on her own specialty. She had a bit of an embarrassing fantasy that she would be suited to espionage or some other job that was always romanticized in stories. “There’s not too much of a rush, as the next Hands-on is still several weeks out, but I would like each team to submit the survey by next week. Any questions?”
He glanced around the room, but nobody’s hand went up, so he continued. “Regarding the harvest festival, a couple of things: first, normal classes resume next week, and your parents, siblings, and other guests are invited to come by and watch us as we work.” His eyes took on a mischievous glint. “I have a few specific plans, but we’ll get into that later. Second, as you well know, the harvest festival will end with a dance hosted by the academy. Attendance is encouraged, but not mandatory – I know I’ll be going, at least. Tickets are free for everyone who wants to attend, but your guests will need to RSVP – just get me a number of attendees at least two days before the dance, and you should be good.” Nym swallowed – her father would definitely want to go to the dance, and the thought of watching him socialize with her professors just about horrified her. “There will also be a dinner hosted by the headmistress for guests the day of the dance. Tickets for the dinner are not free, and if your guests are interested in attending, come find me and I’ll get you the form.” She’d have to ask her father about the dinner when he arrived.
“Finally,” Roose said, “the schedule for research and club presentations is nearly finalized, and I’ll be sending copies over to the dorm in the morning.” He paused for a moment. “I think that’s it,” he said with an emphatic nod, “Before you go, I need one person from each team to come grab the survey. Nice job, again, on finishing your exams, and good luck with the festival preparations!”
As soon as he finished talking, Cliff leapt up from his seat beside Nym and nearly sprinted out of the classroom, knocking the door open and rushing out of sight. Loria let out a sigh, frowning towards the doorway. “There goes my hope of filling out the survey right now.”
“Roose said we have time, but – what’s got him in such a rush?” Nym asked, waving a hand at Thalos as he came over to them, survey in hand.
Loria shrugged, frown on her face. “I’m not sure. All I know is he’s been incredibly busy the last few days – I’ve been trying to get a minute of his time to talk about the – ah, inferno node he made me, but every time I see him he’s rushing off somewhere.”
“How is it, by the way?” Nym asked. They’d had their Advanced PMT exam the day before, and Loria had had the unfortunate luck of drawing Vincent as her sparring opponent. It wasn’t quite the guaranteed loss it had once been, since they knew how his Gift worked, but he’d shocked the class by opting for a fencing saber instead of his normal rifle. Loria had still made a good showing for herself, though, ultimately taking two wins of the three spars.
“It’s good,” Loria said simply, “It feels a little different from my old node, but, really, it’s a shock how smoothly it functions.” She shook her head. “My father’s personal engineer designed my old node, and Cliff – well, this is exactly what I wanted to talk to him about, if he wasn’t so busy.” She turned towards Thalos. “Any idea what he’s been up to?”
Cliff’s roommate dropped the survey in front of Loria, taking the seat Cliff had just vacated. “It’s his research project with that priest – Brother Paolo, I think?” Thalos shrugged. “Cliff said the guy’s been working himself to the bone to get something presentable done by the harvest festival.”
Nym let out a noise of understanding. “Jenna said Cliff had carried some professor to the infirmary – she seemed a little unsure of the details herself, but I guess that’s the same guy?”
“Well, whatever it is, I hope he’ll have some time to meet within the next week,” Loria said, scanning the paper in front of her. After a moment, she looked up. “This shouldn’t take us long at all – we’re supposed to indicate our interest in certain jobs from 1 to 5.” She slid the paper over to Nym. It wasn’t particularly complex, a long list of jobs ranging anywhere from ‘public service’ – whatever that meant – to academic consultation to private security. “It might take us some time to come to an agreement,” Loria continued, “but I doubt anyone will be too disagreeable.” A month before, Nym would have laughed at her naivete, but, truth be told, team B had been getting along remarkably well over the past few weeks.
“I’ll force him to commit to an hour of time with us,” Thalos said, “maybe we can corner him during lunch or dinner one day.” He looked at Nym. “How are you doing on your festival preparation? You have to do some presentation on a monster, right?”
A surge of stress rippled down Nym’s arms. “Yeah – I’ve got my monster picked out and everything, and I’ve got maybe two-thirds of the research done, but I still have to work through some accounts of encounters and assemble it into a palatable presentation.” It wasn’t particularly difficult work, but it was a lot of reading and organizing notes and just about every tedious academic job she hated.
“What did you end up picking?” Loria asked.
“Nightwyrms – they’re a high level monster that occasionally pop up in northern Marifond and Umber. My dad ran into one on a job one time – it’s one of his favorite stories to tell.” That was the secret weapon of her presentation, her father’s firsthand account of fighting a Nightwyrm. There was a vote that happened at the symposium, and they’d be distributing a few awards. She didn’t actually expect to win anything, but she didn’t want to embarrass herself, either.
Loria nodded. “I’ve heard of them – nasty things, they should make for a pretty good presentation. If you need any help with the research or if you want to practice your presentation, let me know.”
“I will, thanks,” Nym said. She glanced around the room – team C was huddled to one side, presumably filling out the survey as Loria had wanted, but almost eveyrone else was gone. She turned to Loria and Thalos. “You guys want to head back to the dorm for dinner? I’d suggest we go into Westholden for a proper dinner, but, well – our probation.”
“Basking in the afterglow,” Thalos said dryly. Nym let out a laugh, and Loria shook her head. As a team, they got up and left the room – exams were done, but it was on to the next thing.
***
“Your name is Nymia Durand, correct?” Nym recognized the woman as Dr. Ignis, one of the two doctors who’d accompanied the apprentice Couriers on their first Hands-on training. At the time, she’d been all smiles and matronly kindness. At the moment she was wearing an anonymous, neutral frown, but Nym wasn’t particularly surprised, considering the circumstances.
Hands placed firmly in her lap, Nym nodded. “Yes ma’am.” Honestly, no one called her Nymia, but she wasn’t about to correct the panel of interrogators before her.
“My name is Dr. Ignis, and these are professors Jericho and Muldon.” The two men beside her were similarly stony-faced, though professor Jericho offered an amicable nod when Dr. Ignis introduced him. “We’ve been tasked with the unfortunate duty of overseeing your apprentice Courier team’s disciplinary review. Do you understand why we’ve asked to interview you today?”
Nym fidgeted at the question, feeling like a chastised child – which, she realized, was not too inaccurate a description. “I think, uh – we submitted statements on what happened during the Hands-on, and now you want to get first hand accounts of what happened.”
Dr. Ignis nodded. “That is more or less correct. We have a few questions we’d like you to answer.” She paused, and for a moment, some kindness snuck its way into her expression, her eyes crinkling slightly as the edges of her mouth went up. “Don’t be nervous, dear, just answer honestly and you’ll be fine.” Nym nodded, and the doctor’s neutral expression returned. “If you would, please give us a brief account of your experiences during your second Hands-on training, beginning with the circumstances leading up to your classmates injury and ending with the arrival of Templar Roose and Dr. Harkin.”
Sucking a breath through her teeth, Nym nodded. “Alright. It started – uh – our task for the second Hands-on was building a bridge.” Over the next couple of minutes, she told the story, to the best of her ability, of Thalos’s injury and their response to it. Some of her memories were vague, lost in the heat of that moment, but when she said as much, Dr. Ignis told her not to worry about that, so she didn’t. Honestly, she was a bit nervous at first, but once she got talking, the story flowed surprisingly easily from her memory. “-and, well, the injury healed up, just like we hoped. Most of the way, at least – halfway through healing the hole in Thalos’s hand, Loria chucked her PMT away and it – uh – exploded.” She swallowed at the booming memory – if Loria had been half a second slower, they might have all been injured that day. “Some time later, Dr. Harkin and Roose – er, Templar Roose, that is – popped out of a tree and brought us back to Clearspring.”
Dr. Ignis nodded, sketching a few quick lines on the paper in front of her – all three of the professors had been taking notes throughout her story. After a moment, the doctor looked up at her. “Is there anything you’d like to add?”
Nym’s mouth opened, and she was about to say no, when a conflicted feeling surged in her chest. She’d only really noticed it as she was telling her story – most of the sentences started with ‘Loria did this’ or ‘Cliff did that’. “Just that every step of the way I trusted Loria’s judgement – I wasn’t just following along. I was thinking about what was the right decision, and deferring to her when I couldn’t decide.” She paused for a moment before continuing. “We talk a lot about emergencies and how we should respond, but I don’t think I really appreciated it until Thalos was on the ground with a hole in his stomach.”
“Thank you,” Dr. Ignis said. She glanced to either side of her. “We’re going to be asking a few questions about your state of mind, now. Just answer honestly, please.”
Nym nodded, and the man on the doctor’s left – Professor Muldon, Nym thought, made to speak. “You said that your teammate, Clifford, came up with the plan of – ah – tampering with PMT nodes to assemble the makeshift healing node. Can you tell me what that discussion was like?”
Nym blinked – the question was already framed in a pretty negative way, but she tried not to sound defensive as she answered. “I think – well, Cliff seemed to have some kind of epiphany – probably something with his Gift. We talked a little bit about the risks before Loria ultimately made the decision to go with his plan.”
Professor Muldon’s lips stretched to a wide, flat line. “And at any point, was it mentioned that Cliff’s plan would involve breaking several rules we set out for engineers engaged in field activities at this academy?”
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Nym rubbed at her forearms with her hands – it was chilly in the room, and the atmosphere made it seem even colder. “I mean, of course it came up – I think I even mentioned it myself. But we thought Thalos was going to die if we did nothing.”
“So you decided to risk all of your lives on the thought of saving Thalos’s?”
“Risked our-” Nym felt herself growing indignant. “Cliff said he – that is, Loria decided-” She cut off, shaking her head as she collected her thoughts. “Professor, we risked our lives when the fought the Spike Spitter. We risked our lives when we wandering in the wilderness by ourselves. I mean – we had with us guns and spears and our PMTs. If we get on the wrong side of those, we risk our lives. I think – ah – when we all signed up for the academy, we expected to risk our lives. This time, we just did so in a different way.”
“A different way that’s explicitly forbidden by the academy’s rules,” Professor Muldon pointed out.
“A different way that we thought would save our friend’s life,” Nym said, setting her jaw and crossing her arms.
Dr. Ignis leaned forward. “If, at the time, you knew this disciplinary review would be coming, would you have acted in a different way?”
It only took an instant before Nym shook her head. “No. Of course not. I trusted Loria and Cliff, and I was worried about Thalos.” She worked her jaw for a moment before letting out a sardonic laugh. “Even if you ended this interview by telling me I was expelled, I don’t think I would regret what we did.” There was a tense beat of silence after she said that, and she almost immediately regretted it – what she said was true, but it almost sounded like a challenge.
“Let’s shift topics for a moment,” the other professor, Jericho, said, “do you feel that you were adequately prepared for your second Hands-on training?”
Nym frowned, head tilting to the side. “You mean – did we do enough research before the Hands-on? Well, for example, I knew about the Spike Spitter – it was on our list of monsters for the area. We made plans to deal with most of the threats, though our plan for some of the higher level monsters was just ‘get out of there as soon as possible.’” She shrugged. “Yeah, we probably could have prepared better, but I don’t know if any amount of preparation would have affected how we responded to Thalos’s injury.”
Professor Jericho smiled thinly. “Allow me to rephrase – in your apprentice Courier courses you prepared for your practical training. Do you feel that, in the lead up to the second Hands-on training, you were adequately informed of the risks involved with field work?”
Frown deepening, Nym shrugged. “I mean, we went over survival skills, talked about all sorts of hypothetical situations. I suppose we weren’t given that much education about actually repairing the bridge, but I assumed they assigned that task to us because Cliff is basically a wizard with anything like that.” She wasn’t quite sure of the point of the question. “As for other dangers, like monsters – we started sparring after the first Hands-on, and I’d say that our coordination improved by leaps and bounds from that.” Finally, she shrugged. “So yes, I guess, I think we were prepared – it was just bad luck, what happened.”
Professor Jericho nodded, scribbling down whatever he deemed noteworthy on the pad in front of him. “How would you describe your professor, Templar Roose’s teaching style?”
“Roose?” Nym said, blinking, “He’s – well, somewhat loose, I guess, in how he instructs us. Lots of open ended questions and very willing to entertain whatever random aside we want to go on in class. He can be a bit enigmatic, and I think he might enjoy confusing us, but he’s a really good teacher. He’s helped me out personally, and I know I’m not the only one. I think everyone in our class likes him.” That certainly wasn’t true of all of her professors – there were a few who had less than stellar reputations, but Roose was not one of them. “Is he – I mean, why are you asking about Templar Roose?”
Dr. Ignis smiled slightly. “We’re just trying to cover our bases, dear. Don’t worry about it.” Nym nodded, still feeling unsure. The interview went on for several more minutes before they dismissed her. When she arrived at the interview, she hadn’t been particularly concerned, but by the time she left, she was.
***
Three loud bangs on her door pulled her from dreams of Nightwyrms and dancing. Her eyes flicked open, her gaze scraping across the ceiling, down the wall, and settling on Penny’s empty bed. For an instant she wondered if her roommate had made it back the night before – she’d gone out with some classmates from her and Jenna’s Intermediate PMT class the night before, and as far as Nym knew, she hadn’t come back. Penny had mentioned a thing she had going with one of the guys in that class, so Nym would have to remember to pry the dramatic details from her later on.
Her worry for her roommate was interrupted when three more angry slaps on the door rang out. She let out a wordless cry for whoever it was to hold on, drowsily pulling herself out of her bed and trying to shake the exhaustion from her limbs. She’d been up late into the night researching Nightwyrms, and she didn’t have to check her clock to know that it was still early. Her feet touched the floor and she jumped to her feet, grasping for balance as her tired muscles protested at the sudden movements. She glanced down at herself, making sure she was decent. She’d slept in her clothes, so her shirt and shorts were a little wrinkled, but they’d do.
The third round of noisy pounding on the door had just started when she got her hand on the knob. Between the second and third smack, she wrenched the door open and found herself glaring at a fist about to collide with her face. Her eyes widened, but thankfully, whoever it was managed to stop his fist before it smashed into her nose. While she was still processing her shock, she was suddenly wrapped in a tight hug. Letting out a yelp, she struggled for a moment before she recognized the shirt, the height of his shoulders, the feeling of being hugged.
“Dad?” she cried, returning the hug. Immediately, all exhaustion was gone, and she returned the hug. A moment later she pulled away from the hug to see her father’s grin, toothy and wide. “What are you – when did – did you have to knock so loud?”
He let out a bark of laughter, a little louder than was probably proper so early in the morning, and slapped her shoulders. “I wanted to surprise you, get the blood pumping!”
Nym frowned, pulling out of his grip and crossing her arms. “But what if my roommate was here?”
His mouth opened, then closed, and he looked over her shoulder at the empty room behind her. “Well, she isn’t, is she? Now come on.”
He moved to wrap an arm around her shoulder and drag her out of the room, but she ducked underneath, stamping her foot on the ground. “Hold on, dad, slow down – come on? And do what? I just woke up!”
“Oh, I know but – well I showed up a day early because I was so excited to see my little girl, right? I figure this is the perfect opportunity for us to spar, especially after all the progress you’ve been talking about in your letters.” Well, that explained some of his excitement, at least. She felt a pang of annoyance at him referring to her as his little girl, but if she protested, she knew he’d be calling her nothing else for his entire visit.
“Just – give me a minute to get ready, dad. Brush my hair, put on some actual clothes.” She supposed it was probably better to hold off on a shower if she was about to work up a sweat, but she still wanted to be at least a little presentable. A new thought occurred to her, and she frowned. “Actually, I’m not sure if I’m even allowed to spar you. Normally, it would probably be fine, but with my team’s probation…” She shrugged. There was no way that her dad’s excitement would be ruined by something like that, but it might temper it enough that she could actually wake up before she had to fight him.
“Ah, right – your mother mentioned that, something about a Spike Spitter and breaking the rules? You’ll have to tell me all about it on the way to the sparring rings.”
Nym let out a weary sigh. “Dad, I’m saying we need permission if we want to spar. Here – Templar Roose said he would be dropping by the dorm this morning to bring out the festival’s schedule. We can wait for him downstairs and ask him for permission when he gets here.”
He stared at her for a moment, and she knew that he was deciding whether to just strong-arm his way past whatever was in his way – in this case, petty little things called rules and regulations. Thankfully, he seemed to be feeling reasonable, so he just nodded. “Fine. It’ll give me a good chance to have a cup of coffee – plus, whatever your cook was making in the dining hall smelled fantastic. Might as well fuel up before we get to fighting, yeah?”
“Right, Dad – I’ll meet you down there.” Before he could say anything else, she shut the door on him. She felt a smile rising to her face as she turned and moved to get ready for the day. Her father had always been a bit of a whirlwind, but it was great to see him.
***
“I never would have thought you, of all people, Roose, would be the one teaching my daughter – especially after you left the alliance.” Her father had his quarterstaff bouncing on one shoulder, walking beside Roose as he led the way to the sparring rings. Nym and Thalos – their medic for the spar – followed behind them.
“It’s Templar Roose now, Aramis,” their teacher replied with a grin. He’d given them permission to carry out the spar as long as he was able to attend – Nym figured he actually just wanted to watch father and daughter fight, but that was fine by her. “And you know how it is with life – one thing leads to another, and you’ll start as a Courier and end up as a Magepriest teaching at an academy.”
Nym’s father let out a bark of laughter. “I’m not sure that experience is as universal as you’re making it sound.” Roose shrugged, and her father shot out a fist, punching him lightly in the shoulder. “I saw you’ve got the fancy red trim now. You’ll have to tell me what led to that.” As she watched them talk, Nym felt a surge of discomfort – she had some sense that her father and Roose knew of each other, but by the looks of things, they were closer to friends. A horrifying thought.
Roose’s smile fell slightly from his face. “Maybe, if time permits.” An awkward silence settled between the pair, leaving Nym wondering what sort of story was behind Roose’s ordination as a Templar.
Her father looked over his shoulder, slowing his speed until he was walking beside Thalos. “Sorry for waking you this morning – it’s Thalos right?”
Thalos bobbed his head tiredly. “Yeah, Thalos. And don’t worry about it, uh – should I call you Mr. Durand, or would you prefer the Puppetmaster?”
Another bark of laughter from her dad. “Just Aramis will do, son. Tell me, you’re on my daughter’s team, right? How’s she representing the family legacy?”
Thalos flicked a glance towards her, his expression neutral. She knew him well enough to figure that he was deciding whether or not to tease her. “She’s a skilled figher and a good friend,” Thalos said, turning back to her dad, “though, considering how much she boasts about you, I’m not sure how anyone could stand up to that legacy.” Nym winced – there it was.
“Boasts about me, you say?” her dad said, looking past Thalos towards her with a grin. She grimaced. “It does an old man proud to hear something like that coming from his precious daughter’s friend.” Before she could voice a protest, he continued. “Tell me about yourself, Thalos. I heard you had a rough brush with a Spike Spitter – nasty things, those. How are you feeling about it?”
Thalos paused for a moment to consider, and Nym swallowed – her father was anything but delicate with his words, and she worried Thalos might be a little more shaken than he was letting on about the whole affair. “I’m fine,” he finally said, “the recovery was worse than the injury itself – I hardly remember what happened besides a sharp pain in my stomach and a bad dream about rats gnawing at my stomach and hand.” Nym and her dad pulled matching faces of disgust, and Thalos shrugged. “Sorry – probably should have left out that last part. Anyway, it’s part of the deal, walking between cities. You get used to it after a while.”
“Thalos grew up on the road, mostly,” Nym explained.
Her dad nodded. “That explains the outlook, then – from the sound of it, you’ll make a good Courier, Thalos, so keep at it. Try to rub some of that maturity off on Nym, would you?” He paused to frown. “Not literally, I mean – well, not while I’m around. I suppose you’re both grown adults and everything.” He scratched awkwardly at his eyebrow as Thalos studiously avoided looking at either of them.
“Dad,” Nym snapped – why, exactly, had she been excited to see him, again?”
***
“So what are we going for?” her dad called across the sparring ring, “first contact or until you get frustrated?”
Nym frowned, bouncing the end of her quarterstaff on the ground. “What if I manage to land the first hit?” He smiled across the ring at her, but said nothing. Finally, she sighed. “Fine – until I get frustrated or I land a hit.”
He nodded. “Sounds good to me. Roose, if you would?” At the same time, they both shifted into identical stances, quarterstaves held at the ready – he’d taught her to fight, after all. She took a deep breath, trying to clear her mind of all anxieties and annoyances – she was just sparring her father, after all, she’d done this a thousand times. Still, she knew this time was a little bit different – it had been months since they’d last sparred, and she really, really wanted to show him how much she’d improved.
The countdown came, and as soon as Roose yelled “start!” they both sprung into action. She reached down, brushing her fingers across the ground and launching a pillar of earth from the ground with her Gift, aimed directly at his face. He easily smashed the rock aside with his staff, but his eyes widened in surprise, and he flashed her a grin.
Even as he was smiling, four balls of earth formed in the ground around him. There was a brief tugging before four perfect spheres levitated in the air, slowly starting to spin around him. He used an earth node to form the earth – making spheres that perfect required extreme skill, she knew – and then grabbed those balls of earth with his Gift to create angry, orbiting projectiles that were inclined to crack the heads of anyone dumb enough to fight him. Of course, this time, that was her.
She dashed towards him, keeping track of each of the four orbs as she struck towards his chest with her quarterstaff. It was an effort of concentration, fighting with him – lose sight of one of his puppets and you were going to lose, one hundred percent of the time. He easiily deflected her attack, but she spun the staff, following it up with three more quick slashes at his head and a stab at his chest. Nodding appreciatively, he batted each one aside, following her aggression with a handful of his own strikes, probing at her defenses. She managed to weather the attack, grunting in frustration when she spotted one of the orbs hurtling towards her out of the corner of her eye. With an effort of magic, she summoned a wall of ice to block the orb. The ball of hard earth easily smashed through the crystalline wall, but it slowed enough that she was able to duck under its trajectory.
They exchanged a few more blows with their quarterstaves. Despite her best efforts, he easily blocked or deflected each attack, while she already she felt angry stripes of pain up and down her limbs where his weapon had smashed through her guard.
Hissing a frustrated breath, she jumped backwards as one of the orbs came hurtling by, swinging her staff in a full, two handed arc, smashing the orb and shattering it into dust. Shock rang down her staff into her hands, painfully ricocheting up her arms. She grit her teeth, trying to push past the numbness as her father redoubled his aggression, landing four quick hits to her sides.
She felt a prickling in her spine, instinct formed after years of sparring with the man in front of her, and she dove to the ground, losing grip of her staff as an orb of earth hurtled over her head. With a frustrated yell, she slammed both her palms in the ground, forcing as much strength into her Gift as she could muster. Seven angry fists of earth sprung up around her father, a barrage of angry rock and stone. After an instant, she felt the soft impact of two orbs of earth dropping harmlessly on her back, and when she looked up, she was annoyed to find him standing on top of the mound of earth her attack had formed. He was grinning, but there was an impressed look to his eyes. “You’ve improved.”
She rolled until she was sitting, grabbing her quarterstaff from where it lay, discarded on the ground. He hopped down from the pile of dirt – loose, now that she’d dismissed her Gift, and extended a hand to help her up. “Maybe, but not enough yet, huh?”
He shook his head. “Nonsense – that last attack nearly got me, and if it did, I would have been feeling it for a while.” He squeezed her shoulder with a hand, and she winced – everywhere was sore from where he’d struck her. “Honestly, if you keep improving like this, I’m going to have to go up to five projectiles if I want to keep pace.” She sighed – if he was fighting at full strength, he could control more than twenty puppets. And they wouldn’t be simple balls of earth – spiked metal balls, knives, and all sorts of other, deadlier weapons. He was the Puppetmaster, after all, and his puppets dealt death. Still, moving up from four puppets to five, that was some kind of victory, she supposed.