Nym was, at the best of times, a pretty good student. She wasn’t great, like Cliff or Loria – no one was, at least among their Courier class – but she was pretty good. Unfortunately, as she stared down at the pop-quiz on her desk, she realized it was not the best of times. With an annoyed sigh, she grumbled to herself about injustice as she scribbled her answers – names plucked from her vague memories of the last week of lectures, almost none of which were probably correct. It wasn’t her fault that there were more interesting things than history going on at the moment.

The harvest festival was winding up for its big finale, the Harvest Dance, and that alone was enough to distract most of the student body. Penny had kept her up late the night before, droning on about her date to the dance in far too much detail. He and Penny were in the same PMT class, but Nym had never shared more than a passing greeting with him. He was big, as tall as Cliff and as wide as Percy, and he was dumb as a rock. Well, not dumb, maybe, but he was the type to nod along to everything you say and frown and shrug whenever you asked him what he thought. If Thalos was the complex type of quiet, Penny’s date was the simple type. Which, Nym realized, might be why her talkative roommate liked him so much.

She sighed again, looking over her answers once more before mentally throwing her hands up in resignation. Her exam scores had been good enough that she could suffer a single botched pop-quiz. Dropping her pen, her eyes wandered the lecture hall, where she was relieved to see that most of her classmates wore similarly frustrated expressions on their faces. She allowed herself to relax a bit – at least they’d all be failing together – and her mind started to drift back towards the dance. It wasn’t really her biggest concern at the moment. That spot was taken up by the looming discipline inquiry – she jumped back and forth between calling it waste of time and a cause for concern. At the moment, she was thinking the latter, so she really shouldn’t be thinking about the Harvest Dance – but honestly, could she be blamed for being excited? Everyone else seemed to be obsessed with all the spectacle and romance of it. She knew, in certain social circles, this kind of event was common – networking, hunting for spouses, and just flaunting wealth, she guessed. With her parents’ work, she’d never actually attended something like the Harvest Dance. So yes, embarrassingly, she found herself a little more excited than she really ought to be.

Her eyes settled on one girl in particular across the room, but when she looked up from her desk, Nym found herself quickly looking away. Her name was Tia, and they shared a couple of classes. Somewhere in Penny’s lengthy ramble the night before, she’d thought about finding a date for herself, and Tia’s face might have popped into her head. It wasn’t that she wasn’t interested in romance – she’d grown up on stories of her father’s over-the-top romantic gestures to her mother after all. How could she not be? But, at the same time, she wasn’t quite sure on the specifics of what an academy romance looked like. At some point she’d asked Jenna how her relationship with Cliff came to be, and the other girl had just shrugged. “I liked him, he liked me,” Jenna had said, “we started spending a bit more time together. Then more, and then even more.” It wasn’t much of an explanation, but then, Nym couldn’t really press for details without Jenna starting to ask questions she wasn’t prepared to answer. Her eyes drifted back to Tia across the room, widening when they made eye contact. It held for a moment, and Tia flashed a smile, then Nym looked away. It was far from the first time that had happened, and if it happened any more, the other girl was going to get suspicious.

Not trusting her eyes not to wander further, Nym looked back down at her quiz, reading the first question over and over, mind elsewhere, until her professor called time and the TA went around to collect the quiz. When she’d handed her paper off, she threw her arms up, leaning back to yawn and stretch a tightness out of her neck. Next was lunch, then a couple more classes, then she’d go and watch the Dueling tournament. She’d be cheering for Loria, of course, but hopefully Percy and Jenna would also make it through the preliminaries. And then, after that, another day of classes, before- “Nym?” a soft voice said, cutting off her thoughts.

Nym’s eyes shot open, blinking as she sat upright. Her mouth opened when she saw Tia standing in front of her desk, and clicked shut a moment later when she realized she had nothing to say.

“Oh – sorry,” the girl continued, smiling apologetically, “I – um, were you-” She cut off, blinking a few times, as if she was similarly tongue tied.

“Don’t-” Nym squeaked, “I mean – no need to apologize. You just surprised me – I was thinking about something.” Instinctively, her hand came up to brush her hair behind her ear – what kind of expression had she worn while she stretched? She hoped it wasn’t too ridiculous. “What do you – I mean, what is it?”

“Well,” Tia said, lingering on the word for a moment. She seemed to be avoiding eye contact. “It’s just – I was wondering if you would like to eat lunch together. There’s something I want to ask you.” Nym was staring at Tia’s face. Was she – blushing? Suddenly, her eyes locked with Nym’s, and they were looking at each other. “It’s about the Harvest Dance.”

***

Jenna let out a sigh of relief. “Safe.”

Nym’s eyes flicked to her friend before settling on the board in front of them. There were a hundred-something names in twenty-something groups listed in a tight print that just barely strained her eyes to read. “Found your name?” All around them there was a press of people, searching for their names on the list, hoping for a good draw.

“Yeah,” Jenna said with a nod, “Group K. I should-” She paused before nodding again. “I got a little lucky. Mostly first year students in my group, and mostly seminarians.” Nym grunted understanding. She hadn’t thought about it before, but she could guess that upperclassmen would be stiffer competition, as would cadets. “And there’s Percy, Group D. Loria-”

“Group U,” Jenna’s roommate said from the other side. The tone of her voice was stiff.

Jenna let out a little hiss when she read over Loria’s group. “Ouch.”

“What?” Nym said, looking between the two curiously, “unlucky draw?”

“Not exactly,” Jenna said, her eyes narrowing, “most of the group is fine, but she drew the winner of last year’s tournament, a third year cadet named Tyburn.”

Nym nodded as she found the name on the list, just under Loria’s. “Does that mean – ah – if she loses to him…” Nym trailed off.

Jenna shook her head. “No, she can still make it to the bracket, even if she loses to him. It will be much harder to get a good seed, but-” She cut herself off with a shrug. “As long as she places in the top half of her group, Loria will be fine.” That lined up with what Nym knew about the rules. Basically, the first day was to cut the number of duelists – around one hundred and thirty – down to sixty-four, seeding them and setting them up for the proper bracket stage the following day.

Nym frowned as she looked over at Loria – the girl was always a little hard to read, but now especially. They’d hardly gotten a word out of her since lunch. Nym knew she was focused, but she guessed that her team’s commander was also feeling a little nervous, not that she’d ever admit it. Nym knew that the Fireshell General had won the dueling tournament every year of his attendance, and she’d recently learned that Loria’s older brother had done the same. Her friend was made of sturdy stuff, but the pressures of expectations could weigh pretty heavily, Nym knew.

Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

“I, for one, have full confidence in Loria,” Cliff said. Nym paid him an amused glance. He was looking much better rested than he had over the past week, and he’d even managed to comb his hair. “And Percy and Jenna, for that matter.”

Jenna smirked at him. “Cliff, you have no idea who we’re fighting – or if we’re any good, for that matter.” Cliff gave a shrug like that didn’t matter to him, and Nym felt herself laughing. For everything he was a genius at, Cliff was basically clueless when it came to fighting. Sure, he had a mind for magic and a creative streak, but stick him in the dueling club’s tournament, and Nym had no doubt he’d lose every match.

There was a crackle from a magetool speaker, and a dull voice informed the crowd that the first fights would start in ten minutes, and that participants in the tournament should make their way to their group’s designated dueling ring. Cliff turned to the rest of them. “So – division of labor. I’ll go and cheer on the lovely Jenna, Nym-”

“Loria,” Nym said.

Cliff nodded seriously. “Right. Deb and Penny, stick with Percy. And Thalos – pick your poison.”

Cliff’s roommate eyed him steadily. “I feel obligated to follow you and make sure you don’t do anything that will embarrass Jenna too much.” Cliff looked affronted, but Nym saw Jenna mouth a silent thank you towards Thalos.

Their little group separated, Nym following just behind Loria, trusting that her friend would lead her to the right place. For a moment, she considered whether to make conversation, but, judging by the stiffness of Loria’s spine and the set of her jaw, she’d hardly want to respond. Oh, well. Either way, Nym would cheer for her when she won. And if Loria lost, well, Nym would cheer then too.

***

Watching Loria fight in the dueling club was odd for Nym. She’d gotten so used to her friend’s dominating performance in their advanced PMT class that her performance in the dueling ring seemed subdued by comparison. It wasn’t that Loria was bad, but the girl’s biggest strength was how seamlessly she combined her spear skills with her PMT. In fact, as far as Nym saw, there was no one better than Loria among the first year students at integrating both halves of magetool fighting.

In the dueling tournament, it was clear that she didn’t quite have the same advantage. She certainly wasn’t unskilled with her spear, but, from what Nym could tell, she was basically as good when using a PMT as when not. In the ring in front of her, there was a crash of wood on wood, a yelp, and a soft round of applause. Nym saw Loria sigh before moving forward to help the Seminarian to his feet. She’d won her first fight. PMT or no, Loria was skilled.

Her friend nodded towards her opponent, who returned the gesture before they split up, walking to opposite ends of the ring. “Five minutes until the next duel,” the advisor called. He was one of the military teachers. Nym recognized his face, though she couldn’t remember his name.

Loria spotted Nym and strode over. Greeting her with a slap to the shoulder, Nym grinned. “Congrats on the win.”

“Thank you,” Loria replied, slotting herself next to Nym and leaning forward to stretch her back. Some of her earlier stiffness seemed gone after that first fight, but she still had a tension in her voice. “Though if I’d lost that one-” She finished the thought with a grunt, standing upright and running a hand through her hair, pressed down with sweat.

“So you just need to win one more to make it through to the bracket stage, right?”

“Unless either of the others manage to upset Tyburn – which isn’t likely – yeah. One more.” Loria’s eyes drifted across the ring, and Nym followed her gaze to see a girl in a Cadet’s uniform. She was as small as Penny, but she looked even more intense than Loria. “She’s good, and we’ve never fought in club practice, but I think I can win.”

“I have complete faith in you,” Nym said, bumping Loria with her hip.

Her friend turned an amused smile her way. “You sound like Cliff.”

“Except I actually know a thing or two about fighting, and about you,” Nym replied. Loria shook her head, and Nym smiled. “I wonder how the others are doing.” She looked towards the other dueling rings, but through the crowds it was impossible to recognize any of her friends.

Loria grunted. “I would be shocked if Percy lost any of his preliminary matches – and only slightly less so if Jenna did.”

“They’re that good, huh?” Nym said – she knew they were both accomplished fighters with their PMTs, but from what she’d heard, Percy was on another level in a duel.

Loria raised an eyebrow towards her. “If you’d like to go and find them and see, now would be the time. I think my next fight will be against Tyburn, and I’d rather not have anyone witness that embarrassment.”

The comment brought a thought to the front of her brain, and she couldn’t stop herself from asking it. “What about your father? Is he coming to watch?”

Loria didn’t seem to react, and her answer seemed to be devoid of emotion. “No, he’s too busy.”

“I – ah, see,” Nym stuttered. Reaching up to squeeze Loria’s shoulder, but the girl didn’t react. “I guess I will go check on the others – but I’ll be sure to rush back for your fight with Tyburn. If anyone’s going to eke out a win, it’ll be you – and I wouldn’t want to miss that.”

***

An ugly red welt was slashed across one of Loria’s cheeks, but she looked like she didn’t even notice as Nym wrapped her in a hug. “Well fought,” Nym said, her smile nearly as large as her friends.

As expected, Loria’s second match, against Tyburn, had resulted in a loss. The third year cadet wasn’t the overwhelming presence Nym had expected, but still, his skill with a saber was undeniable, and each of his matches had ended nearly as quickly as they’d started. The welt across her face was from a well-placed slash with his saber – Nym thought that the medic would have healed it if Loria asked, but her friend was a little too prideful for that.

The third match turned out to be the more exciting watch – Loria’s opponent also used a spear, and the pair were closely matched in skill. The girl was as intense in technique as she was in demeanor, and Nym had little doubt that if she were the one in the ring, she’d have left with more than a few bruises. Ultimately, Loria’s longer reach had given her a few more chances to score hits and the ultimate victory – two wins and one loss, enough for her to make the bracket stage.

“Can I confess something to you?” Loria said as they moved to return her spear to the weapon rack.

Nym blinked. “Of course.”

Another member of the dueling club called out a greeting to Loria, and the girl returned a nod before turning to Nym with an embarrassed smile. “I thought I was going to humiliate myself today.”

“Humiliate yourself?” Nym said, “How?” It was – odd, hearing something like that from Loria. In Nym’s mind, the girl was a pillar of confidence. But of course, everyone had moments of doubt.

Loria sighed. “Just – trip, or sneeze, or something that would cause me to lose stupidly, but – that’s not really the confession.” She took a deep breath. “No, I thought I would humiliate myself in front of my father.”

“Oh,” Nym said, suddenly feeling awkward. She’d asked about him on an impulse before – but of course, Loria would be more concerned about his presence than Nym was. “Was he – I mean, did you-”

“I thought he might come to watch, yes,” Loria said, “but when I saw that he hadn’t, I was, well, relieved.” She turned a self deprecating smile towards Nym. “Strange, right?”

Nym thought back to her own father, and how he’d helped her with her presentation. “I – well, no, I don’t think it’s strange.” Though she couldn’t exactly empathize. She knew she’d have been disappointed if he didn’t come to cheer for her. “Jenna told me last night that she was nervous about fighting in front of her mother – apparently she’s really strict.” Nym shrugged. “I guess your dad’s the same way?” It made sense, from everything she’d seen and heard from the Fireshell General. By the standards Loria held herself to, her father had to be completely unreasonable.

Oddly, though, Loria shook her head. “No, that’s not quite it – it’s just-” She cut herself off with another sigh. “Sorry, it’s nothing – especially since I managed to avoid humiliation.” She started walking faster. “Come on, let’s find the others – I’m sure if we listen close enough, we’ll be able to hear Cliff causing a scene wherever he is. It should lead us right to Jenna.”

Nym watched her friend for a moment, wondering what she should say to try and comfort her – she’d obviously noticed that Loria’s relationship with her father wasn’t quite as simple has Nym’s relationship with her own, but she had no idea how to address that – or if it was even her place to. Her pondering was cut off when she heard a distinctly Cliff-like shriek carry over the crowd, and she sighed, picking up her pace to catch up to Loria before she disappeared into the crowd.