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An Education in Magic and Magetools
Chapter 8 - Friends and Teammates

Chapter 8 - Friends and Teammates

The spear bounced in Loria’s hands with an ingrained rhythm, so familiar it felt like a second heartbeat. Her mind was clear as she waited for the signal. She’d considered half a dozen strategies, but in the end she went with what had best served her so far. Unbridled aggression.

A barked command to begin and three fireballs burst into existence above her. She threw the first straight forward and took off at a dash. Her opponent, a cadet with a lopsided sneer and a crooked nose, stepped up and jerked his shield towards her. She was still a good bit away, but she dove to the side as her first fireball exploded in the air, smashed by some invisible force. He swung his sword and she dodged again as a line of earth was torn from the ground.

Closer now, she sent her other two balls of flame spinning in opposite directions, hoping to occupy his focus so she could get in range. His Gift let him project force from his weapons; she couldn’t let him keep any distance. He blocked the projectiles easily enough, but it bought her enough time that she was nearly on top of him. With a yell of exertion, he stepped forward, swinging his sword as spikes of ice sprung up in her path.

Loria grimaced, smashing the first spike with her spear and kicking through the second. She tried to slip by the force from his sword, but it caught her on the shoulder. Pain rippled down her arm as she stumbled to the side. He followed up with another shield bash, but she dove to the ground, slipping under the invisible attack. As she scrambled back to her feet, she manifested a fireball straight above him, pulling it down towards him.

He was about to lash out again when he noticed the fire. He got his shield up to block the ball of flames, but that was just the time Loria needed to get within spear range. Her first strike was blocked with his sword, but with the next, she knocked aside his shield. A quick jab to the chest and two more to the stomach and he was curled over, gasping for breath.

“And that’s enough,” Lieutenant Ulster barked from off to the side of the ring. “On your feet, Gallio, let’s talk about what happened.” Loria looked at her sparring partner. He managed to pull himself into a squat, but he was struggling to regain the breath she’d knocked from his chest with her last flurry of attacks. For a moment she thought about helping him to his feet, but judging by the heat in his eyes, he’d only take take the gesture as an insult.

A few steps forward and the Lieutenant whirled around to address the rest of the class. “Alright, tell me, why did Loria win this spar?” He scanned the group of eighteen bystanders, the rest of their Advanced PMT Combat class. “Vincent, how about you?”

Vincent Reed was the boy who’d made the speech at the Entrance Ceremony. He was one of only four seminarians in the class – Loria had seen him win three spars, and she still didn’t understand what his Gift did. “She was faster, more aggressive,” Vincent said, “Before Gallio could muster a proper defense, she was on top of him, and – ah – Loria is quite proficient at short range.”

“Quite proficient indeed,” Lieutenant Ulster said, giving her a little smile. He turned back to the rest of the class, and Loria grimaced. “Yes, Loria was fast and precise, as we’ve come to expect from her. So, we know why she won – why did Gallio lose?” He scanned the class again. “Nym, tell me.”

The short girl blinked, brushing her bangs from her face. “Well, um-” she started, “I think-”

“We’ve talked about this, Nym,” their teacher interrupted, “there’s a reason you were placed into this class – the advanced class – none of this ‘I think’ or ‘it might be’ nonsense. Have some confidence. You’ve got eyes like the rest of us – why did Gallio lose?”

Nym swallowed, rolling her shoulders as she nodded. “Right, uh, sir – well, Gallio, he didn’t really use his PMT until Loria was too close.”

“Anything else?” the Lieutenant said expectantly.

“Well,” Nym said, her brows furrowing slightly, “I think- I mean – he should have tried to stay away from her. His Gift lets him fight comfortably from much further than Loria, but he still stood still and just waited for her to come to him. It would have gone better if he kept his distance and therefore his advantage.”

“Well put, Nym,” Lieutenant Ulster said, turning to Loria and Gallio. “What do you two think?”

Gallio ground his teeth before speaking up. “Everything they said seems correct.”

“And you, Loria?”

She stuck her chin out as she spoke. “I was caught off guard by the spikes of ice, and I got hit by one of Gallio’s attacks as a result. If I had been less predictable in my approach, I might have been able to avoid that attack. Also, this spar further illustrates my weakness when dealing with opponents at a range. I should diversify my PMT tactics or carry a sidearm to handle these situations.”

Lieutenant Ulster chuckled, shaking his head. “You are being too critical of yourself, Loria. It’s one thing to set a high bar, but it’s quite another to dismiss your own achievements to focus on your faults. You did wonderfully. And Gallio,” he said, turning to the still-scowling boy, “Your gift and your PMT are tools to fight – it’s fine to focus on one, but you should not neglect the other. Think of them like your hands. Sure, a right-handed person might primarily use that hand to get things done, but they’re not going to ignore their left hand when they have to lift something heavy, are they?” Gallio only scowled harder, and Loria felt a similar expression coming to her face. “Now clear out, you two, it’s time for the next spar.”

***

“What put you in a bad mood?” Nym asked as they made their way from the sparring rings back to the dorm. They were the only two Couriers in the Advanced PMT course, and after their first fight, Loria had grown quite comfortable talking to the other girl. “Was it when you knocked that smug cadet on his butt or when Lieutenant Ulster followed up by heaping praise on you.”

Loria frowned, tugging at the sleeve of her uniform. It had been an adjustment, switching from her military-adjacent clothes to the apprentice Courier uniform. Though she had to admit, the clothes were quite comfortable, even if they were a bit looser than what she was used to. She had to fight a constant need to press and tug them along their seams, and sometimes she couldn’t help it. “What did you think of my fight?”

Nym shrugged. “You were good, as usual. The whole thing was what? Twenty seconds? And Gallio’s no pushover, either.”

“You didn’t see any problems with the way I fought?” She had to stop herself from tugging at her sleeve again – she did not want it to become an annoying tick.

“You said it yourself, didn’t you? You could have taken a less predictable path, you’re bad at range, yada yada.” Nym waved her hand in front of her, clearly not understanding where Loria’s frustration came from.

“I did, but-” She pressed a breath out of her nose. “Did you hear what Lieutenant Ulster said? I did wonderfully – I shouldn’t be too critical.” She shook her head. “You have to see something wrong with that! It’s a class! I’m supposed to be critical to learn things.”

Nym smiled incredulously. “So the problem is he wasn’t critical enough today?”

“It’s not just today!” Loria said with an exasperated huff. “So far, he’s not offered me one bit of criticism – it’s honestly getting ridiculous at this point. And I think it’s because he was a subordinate of my father, and-” She cut off, her eyes widening – that particular bit of information was supposed to remain a secret.

“Oh?” Nym said, sounding not at all surprised, “Lieutenant Ulster was a member of the Fireshell Regiment? I didn’t know.” Loria made a choked sound, staring, shocked, at Nym. The other girl grinned at her. “What? You didn’t expect me to be a little curious after you said our fathers had worked together? There aren’t that many people with the last name Faldmen, and the Fireshell General is not exactly unknown. It doesn’t take a genius to make the connection.”

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“Have you told anyone?” Loria asked sheepishly.

Nym shook her head. “Of course not. You didn’t tell me, so I figured you wanted to keep it secret. I don’t know how long that’ll last, though – I’m pretty sure some of the people in our PMT class have already recognized you – I think I heard them muttering during your spar today.”

Loria sighed. “I guess it was naive for me to hope that it remained a secret.”

“With the name and how you act – yeah, pretty naive I’d say.” Nym grinned..

“Do I really act that strangely?” She was just acting like she was raised – she knew it was a little rigid, but that wasn’t a bad thing, was it?

Nym laughed. “I wouldn’t say strangely, no, especially compared to some of the other apprentices.” Loria immediately thought of Cliff – she’d thought his behavior was bad on their first day, but since then, it seemed like every time she took notice of him, he was doing something odd or getting into trouble – most recently, he’d repaired the dorm’s oven half-asleep when the cook came out apologizing one morning that there was no breakfast. He’d been late to their morning class, and Sister Aster had not believed his explanation. She might have spoken up to support, but he didn’t seem particularly put out by his lateness. “It’s just,” she continued, “you’re pretty obviously military through-and-through, and with the way you’re able to fight, connecting you to a famous general isn’t quite that big a leap of logic.”

Loria frowned. “I see – You know, I enrolled in the Courier College because I didn’t want special treatment, but now, here we are-”

“Special treatment,” Nym finished with a nod. “I get it. I mean, my dad is not as famous as yours, but he’s pretty notable, at least in the world of Couriers. It’s a lot of pressure, trying to live up to his standards – I mean, I already put enough pressure on myself, but if everyone started looking at me with expectant eyes, I don’t know if I could take making any mistakes.”

“Right,” Loria said, though that was not quite it. She wasn’t trying to live up to her father – it was impossible, as far as she saw it. For one thing, her father was larger-than-life, and she wasn’t sure any amount of hard work would bring her up to his level. For another, though, she didn’t have his Gift. She shook her head, discarding her annoyance for the moment – dwelling on the frustration would do nothing to fix her problem. She may not have inherited her father’s greatness, but a forward-looking attitude was something learned, not given. “What role do you want for your team?”

Nym blinked at the abrupt topic change, but managed an answer after a few seconds. “Anything but technician, I guess,” she said, “I mean, I could be the tech, but my dad always helped me with tuning my PMT, so I’d rather not.” The schedule was for them to be assigned to their teams the following day. Honestly, Loria was excited. Not because she particularly anticipated working closely with her peers, but because their Courier class had so far been a disappointment – they’d gone over the basic structure of the Courier Alliance as well as a dozen basic skills every Courier needed – map-reading, basic first aid, wilderness survival guidelines, and a handful of other things she’d been able to do at the age of ten. According to the upperclassmen, the curriculum didn’t properly start until after they were split up into teams, and for that, at least, she was excited.

“You’d be the commander?” Loria asked. Nym gave her an odd look, and she realized the question could be seen as offensive. “Ah – not that you wouldn’t be a good leader, I just- you don’t really seem the type to step up for that kind of job.” When it was just the two of them, Nym seemed more than willing to talk, but the more people were around, the quieter she got. She always seemed a bit uncomfortable when she was the center of attention.

Nym chuckled at Loria’s fluster. “Don’t worry, I get what you mean.” She tilted her head to the side. “Hmm, I guess you’re right – I wouldn’t really want to be the commander, but I don’t think I’d be the first one asked. If I did get asked, though-” She shrugged. “I’d do it. What about you?”

“I’ll do anything the team needs,” Loria said immediately. She had spent a good amount of time reflecting on it over the past weeks. Of the four, she felt least qualified to be the scout – as much time as she had spent outdoors, the subtler side of the job seemed not to play to her strengths. She was good with numbers and organization, so she could be a serviceable quartermaster, and though she was no PMT expert, she’d been tuning her own for years. And, of course, she would be more than happy to take command if it was given to her.

“That’s the most Loria answer you could have possibly given,” Nym said with a smile. She leaned forward, threading her arm in Loria’s, dragging her along at a faster pace. “Come on, all this talking is making me hungry, and I need a shower before Gift Mastery.”

***

The edge of the saber caught her across the knuckles, and her spear was sent tumbling to the ground. She hissed a breath between her teeth, shaking her hand to get rid of the pain. The tip of the weapon pressed against the bottom of her chin for a second before falling away.

“Got you,” Jenna said with a triumphant smile. All around them, the other members of the Dueling club were involved in their own spars and training. It was one of the largest clubs at the Academy, with well over a hundred members.

“Why weren’t you this good when we did our spars on the first day?” Loria complained as she pinched her crushed knuckles in her uninjured hand. She wasn’t sure if there was any actual health benefit to it, but putting pressure on where she got hit always seemed to make the pain go away quicker. When she was a child, her mother had taught her the trick, telling her to ‘squeeze the pain away’.

“That was with a PMT,” Jenna explained, taking a few quick swings with her saber. Each movement was accompanied by a satisfying rush of air. “No question you’re better with one of those. Here, though, I’ve got the upper hand.” The weapon went limp in her hand, and she dragged a wrist across her forehead, wiping away some sweat. “Shall we go again?”

“Give me a moment,” Loria said, bending over to retrieve her spear. She’d sparred her roommate a dozen times over the past week since they’d joined the club, and she had yet to land a single hit on the girl. Jenna was quite the expert, and never left more than a painful welt with her attacks, but Loria wasn’t sure her ego could take much more damage.

She winced as her sore fingers took their grip on the wooden practice spear. “Oh, I missed your loss, Faldmen? What a shame.” A voice called out. Loria winced again, though this one had nothing to do with the pain.

“Gallio,” she said, “to what do I owe the pleasure?” Cadets made up a lion’s share of the Dueling club, and from what Loria had seen, Gallio was one of the more promising first-year students among them.

“I simply wanted to express my happiness that you have finally found someone to stand up to your unimaginable talent,” he said with a malicious grin.

“Who’s this guy?” Jenna asked, bouncing her saber on her shoulder as she studied the cadet.

“A classmate of mine and Nyms,” Loria quickly explained, “from our Advanced PMT-”

“Oh,” Jenna said with a grin, “the one you embarrassed this morning?” Loria gave her roommate a sharp look, but the girl was focused on Gallio. “What was it Nym said, less than twenty seconds and you knocked him on his ass?”

The cadet’s expression had turned sour. “Another month of training,” he growled, “and I’ll be the one embarrassing her.”

“If you’re ever capable of beating Loria in a spar – and that’s a big if, you know,” Jenna said, “I guarantee she would have the class not to pout about it. She’s not that much of sore loser.”

“That’s because she’ll know her place,” Gallio said with a sneer, “I am a Natural, and she is an Augment - when I take down Loria, it will be because of my Gift, not because my father took pity on me and trained me despite my lack of talent.” His words simmered in the air for a moment before he nodded. “Enjoy your sparring, ladies. Here, at least, you’re quite talented.” Loria watched him walk away, a stew of emotions boiling in her stomach.

“What an ass,” Jenna said with a shake of her head. She turned to Loria, readying her saber. “Shall we?”

Loria shook her head. “I’m not in the mood anymore.”

Jenna sighed. “Don’t listen to him, Loria – Gift or no Gift, I can’t imagine you being anything but the strongest.”

“Don’t you think I know that? I’m not mad at Gallio,” Loria said, glaring at her roommate, “I expect childishness from him. You, though-” She shook her head.

Jenna’s eyes widened. “What did I do?”

“I don’t need you to protect me – I could have handled Gallio quite fine on my own, thank you very much.”

Jenna raised her hands in a placating gesture. “I didn’t mean it like that, Loria – it’s just you’re my roommate, and I wanted to-”

“To what?” Loria snapped, “Coddle me? Treat me like a child? I can handle myself, Jenna.” She punctuated her outburst by slamming the butt of her spear into the ground.

Jenna stared at her a long moment, working her jaw. Finally, she spoke. “You know what? I’m not in the mood to spar with you anymore either. I’m going to go find Percy – maybe he will have the decency to treat me like a friend.” Loria hissed a frustrated breath, watching as her roommate left, wishing that the other girl could understand that she didn’t want to rely on anything.

***

“Afternoon, everyone,” Templar Roose started with his usual grin, “I hope your first few weeks of classes have gone well enough and that you’re adjusting to Academy life.” Loria glanced around the room. There was an eagerness in the air, and she wasn’t immune to the atmosphere. “I’m happy to note that your professors speak very highly of you, with a few exceptions.” Someone snickered, and Loria looked to see Percy muttering something to an annoyed-looking Cliff. Rumor had it that he was struggling in his PMT class, though Loria tried to stay above such pointless muttering. Jenna was sitting with them, and Loria made eye contact with her roommate for a split second before they both looked away. They hadn’t spoken to each other since their argument the day before. Jenna hadn’t come back to the room until after Loria fell asleep, and Loria was gone before the other girl woke up.

“Is everyone getting settled into their schedules?” Roose continued. “I hope everyone is enjoying their clubs – remember, the deadline to change is next-”

“Get to the teams,” Cliff called out. Loria glared at the boy, but there were mutters of agreement from around the room.

“What?” Roose said, his ever-present smile turning mischievous, “no time for small talk?” He scanned the class. “Fine, fine, let’s get to it then.” He patted a sheet of paper on his lectern. “Now, remember, these will be your teams for at least this year, and most teams persist until graduation. You don’t have to be friends, but you do have to work together. I’ve spoken to your professors and carefully considered each team, and this is what I came up with.” He lifted the paper from the lectern, looking around the room once more. “Team A – Percy, Jenna, Deb, and Penny; Team B – Nym, Loria, Thalos, and Cliff, Team C-” Loria could hardly contain her groan. It was a pleasant surprise that Nym would be on her team, but she was not looking forward to working with Cliff and his sidekick.

“Alright, now I want to give you a few minutes to chat with your team-” Roose continued when he finished announcing. “I hope you all know each other, at the very least, but I want you to start to think about what roles you will each take. Take ten, then we’ll start to talk about where we’re going from here.” He clapped his hands. “Get to it.”