***

As we get back to our bunk room, relaxed and ready to sleep, we find Sareas waiting, leaning against Kaelich’s bed, his arms crossed.

He’s in full uniform, including the rather stiff black jacket no one wears off duty. Thin and tall, standing rigid, he looks like a very angry stick.

“Hi, LT,” Kaelich says. “Waiting for us?”

“Yes. The three of you,” Sareas says, even if we’re four - Althea is with us.

“It’s my room, too, you know,” she says.

Sareas looks at her. He has a good poker face, but I can see the pure distaste that crosses his features for a second. Does he hate mages, or Althea? He’s clearly a hardliner about magic, but I’ve seen him interact normally with Loannu, Team Yellow’s mage. He can barely look at Althea without scowling, though.

“I can’t give you any order,” he says to Althea, “but I want to talk with the team. Your presence is not appreciated.”

Althea’s lips stretch into a venomous smile. “Isn’t it?” she says, and turns to Kaelich.

Kaelich looks at her, and then moves xir gaze away.

Her smile evaporates, leaving icy disdain. She turns without speaking and stalks out of the room. After she’s out, the door closes by itself, strong enough to rattle its frame.

Sareas relaxes a fraction, without Althea in the room.

“Your mage is trouble,” he says. “And you like her way too much.”

“She’s competent and cooperative,” Kaelich mumbles, looking down. Xe’s basically unable to contradict someone while looking them in the eyes.

“Friendly relations with Council mages can make things… muddied,” Sareas repeats. “You must always remember who they are, and what our mission is.”

He pauses, then shrugs.

“This isn’t why I wanted to talk to you anyway. First of all, congratulations for your first combat operation. You did very well. We’ll make a strong squad together.”

Kaelich smiles, but I don’t, and neither does Sorivel. I can hear the but in the Lieutenant’s words.

“But we must discuss your later behavior. Bending the truth in our reports isn’t acceptable - even suggesting it is passing the line. Doing so to protect a mage from his lawful punishment is shameful. And you shouldn’t argue with me in front of a suspect - or anyone external to the Agency - ever again, or there will be consequences. Am I understood?”

I clear my throat. “Technically we didn’t disobey any order or violate any procedure. Disagreement is not against the Agency’s code.”

Sareas glares at me, his green eyes frightfully intense. I go for my favorite trick, and look at his nose instead of his eyes. Most people don’t notice, and end up looking away first. That’s how I got a useful reputation for having a death glare in basic training.

I feel Kaelich squirm, but finally Sareas looks away from me. His jaw tenses, though. Maybe I made a mistake.

“You’re new here, Blademaster Cerical,” the LT says, his voice lower now. “So, we must be clear. We’re very far from Landfall. The Captain has… a light touch here. We don’t really have superior officers willing to adjudicate cases. So, we do things less formally, and draw our own lines. Mine is that we will show a united front to the world. If you disagree with me, in the future, you can come discuss it in private at any time. But you won’t contradict me in public.”

“I understand,” Kaelich says. “I’m sorry, sir.”

Lord of Seas, xe’s spineless. But I see no reason to escalate the situation, so I nod, even if all I want is to show Sareas how wrong he is.

But with my meekness, the LT seems to relax a bit.

“Well, talk’s over,” he says. “I didn’t want to spoil your celebration, you deserved it. It’s just that… there are strange things happening lately. I know this city is so calm it’s boring, usually. But that’s changing, I’m afraid. And I must know that we can rely on each other.”

***

“So, what should we expect from Sareas?” Althea asks, as we stretch before a fighting bout. “Sternly worded letter? Stink bugs in the bed? A knife in the dark?”

She salutes me with a hand over her heart, then shifts into a fighting stance.

I hate people who talk while they spar. But Althea looks great in her white Zakren robe, and I get to spend time alone with her doing exercise with plenty of physical contact. So, I’ll endure the chit chat.

“It depends on the base, and the officer, and how angry they are.” I say. “In basic training, it was mostly joke punishments - kiss my ass and say you’re sorry, frivolous stuff like that. Some places have a system of fines. Some have straight-up beatings. Kaelich says his old captain made people exercise in the snow. A lot depends on how much informal authority Sareas wields - depends on whether the senior teams back him.”

I can’t see Team Gold jumping to Sareas’ orders, and arthritis would probably prevent them from delivering a beating anyway. Team Green members wouldn’t get out of bed without a written order. I worry about Team Red, though.

“Lost Stars, your Agency sucks.” Althea says, “The council is a pain in the ass, but discipline trials require so much effort, and punishments are so harsh, the common joke is you have to set a city on fire before they bother to start the bureaucracy. Which is why Jaeleri is still around.”

“I can’t believe no one killed him yet,” I say.

“Make him agree to a friendly duel with me, and I see what I can do,” she laughs. “Now show me what you can do, soldier girl.”

Warmth spreads to my cheeks, and I wish my skin was as dark as Sorivel’s, because I’m definitely blushing. But I shouldn’t lower my guard because her bossing me around makes me feel a… certain kind of way. The first time we sparred, I expected an easy win, and she handed me my ass. This time, I take her very seriously. I have better reach and I’m a little stronger, but she’s faster and much, much more expert than me in Zakren. I’m decent at unarmed combat, but most of my training is with a blade.

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I approach cautiously, feign a grapple, then try to hook her ankle with my foot as she dodges. She shifts her balance, and when I try to pull her ankle, she doesn’t budge. Next thing I know, she has my arm in a lock and throws me down, hard.

All breath leaves my lungs as I hit the mat with my back, about as gracefully as a dead camel. My head hits a split second later, and despite the mat, it hurts.

Althea looks down on me, a little smile quirking her lips. “So much for the ThauCon elites. I knew the fame was bullshit, what did you even do in three years of training?”

I groan, let my spinning head recover, and get back on my feet. My cheeks are burning, now, but I hope Althea reads it as shame and not as getting beaten and mocked by a hot girl makes me unbearably horny.

“Give me a sword and I’ll show you what they taught us,” I say.

She rolls her eyes. “If you get your sword, I get my magic, and with that I could just throw you through the wall, so let’s keep it civilized. Fortunately, I don’t need magic to beat your sorry ass. Ready for another bout?”

I gesture for her to wait as my dizziness fades. She raises her hand, and her water juggle levitates toward her. She takes a long sip, then sends it back into the bench with a flash of green light.

“You’re… a bit casual, with magic,” I say.

She rolls her eyes. “And you guys are too serious about it. Heating my coffee with Else-fire won’t break the moon again, I promise. Ready for another bout?”

I nod, and she salutes again. We both fall into a fighting stance. There’s still a green spark in her eyes, it seems to persist longer and longer after she uses magic.

It doesn’t exactly unnerve me. But I really wish she didn’t levitate things through the room instead of walking to take them.

“I assume you know what you’re doing,” I say, “But isn’t using magic dangerous? I mean, even for mages?”

I know I should drop the subject and simply enjoy another round of Althea handing me my ass. But I was never able to simply drop a point I want to make, or something I want to understand. That’s why everyone hated arguing with me, back at the academy.

Althea doesn’t get annoyed, though. She laughs, gets closer and grabs my tunic. I let her, and try to lock her arm. I only partially succeed, and we both lose our balance, falling on the mat.

That’s not too bad. I’m heavier, which is a major advantage once we’re on the ground. Althea rolls, trying to pin me, but I grab her and force her down.

“Minor magic… isn’t dangerous,” she explains, even as I finally manage to push her on her back. She drags me through with the motion, though, and in a flip our positions are reversed. She’s locking one of my arms with her knee, and my breath catches.

“The more magic I use,” she adds, her face so close to mine I feel her breath on my cheek as she talks. “The less dangerous it is. It’s about gradually pushing limits. Like strength training.”

“I thought mages just used their powers as little as possible?” I ask – half because I’m honestly curious, half hoping she’ll get distracted and give me an opening.

“Most do,” she acknowledges. “It’s called walking the Wide Road. The boring road, if you ask me. You learn magic very carefully, use it as little as you can, so you minimize risks. That’s what most mages do. But if you have real affinity for a path, and are willing to risk, there’s the Narrow Road. Pushing your power willingly, making control a habit. It’s the way to real magical power.”

“You talk too much,” I say, and I roll on my back while pushing Althea up with my knees - something like a somersault, so now I’m pinning her down.

She tries to wiggle away, then to push me away, but I’m taller and heavier, so she’s forced to give up and surrender, patting the mat twice.

“That was decent,” she admits, getting up and smoothing her tunic. “But the first two bouts are warmups. Now it’s time to get serious.”

She raises her hand, her eyes flash green, summoning that Lady-forsaken bottle again. I try to focus on her criminal overuse of magic and not on the fact that I hadn’t had this much physical contact with anyone since my last brief, regrettable relationship.

“Why do you even care about martial arts?” I ask, after drinking my own water. “For us, it’s supposed to be good for stance, and can be useful in case we lose our weapons. But you’re never unarmed. And I guess stance doesn’t matter for magic.”

Althea shrugs. “I was practicing Zakren years before I touched the Else. It’s a good way to focus, and it’s healthy. Also, it allows me to beat the shit out of people in a socially acceptable way.”

“You seem really into it,” I say.

She grins. “Beating people? Yeah.” Then, she becomes more serious. “But jokes aside, yes, I love Zakren. To me it’s… part of the way I use magic. And part of the discipline to keep magic from changing me.”

“Wait, you mix magic with martial arts? Is that why you beat me?” I ask. On one hand, it would be great for my self-esteem. On the other hand, she really should have told me in advance.

“No, not like that,” she says, sounding frustrated. “Magic and Zakren, they’re the same thing. But only to me, and only in my mind.”

I look at her, trying to understand if she’s fucking with me.

She laughs. “I know, it sounds nonsense. But you should hear what other mages say. It’s usually something about five-dimensional manifold or all possible worlds spiraling into a fractal or more philosophical bullshit. I guess it’s true to them. But to me the Else is not really a place, it’s more of… a way of moving. And it’s green.”

“I’m not sure I understand,” I say. “But the gist is that martial arts training makes you better at magic?”

She doesn’t answer at first, so I assume she got bored of explaining mage stuff to me. We salute and start a new round. She’s breathing heavily - she’s fit and well trained, but doesn’t have a soldier’s endurance. The longer this goes on, the better my chances will be.

“Training in magic would be better,” she says suddenly, as if she kept thinking about the answer to my question all the while.. “But martial arts don’t require Sareas’ signature. And it's a good way to train in the long term. It forces me to grow my understanding of the Else, instead of just practicing spells.”

There are about a million things I want to ask her about the Else - I never really wondered how using magic feels.

But I bite my tongue. Understanding magic matters only to the extent it helps me fight it.

Also, I don’t want to leave her time to catch her breath.

We approach, I try an arm lock, but she twists away from me, and suddenly she’s hooked my leg, and I’m falling down.

But I learned her tricks by now, so instead of trying to recover, I grab her shoulders - no sophisticated move, only a rough grab. Unusual move in the elegant Zakren fights, but not against the rules.

Althea didn’t expect it - she’s used to opponents as subtle as she is, I guess. She tries to wiggle away, but I’m already falling, and I take her down with me.

We hit the mat, and after a quick struggle, my greater strength tells, and I have her down in a lock.

“Told you you talk too much,” I say, smiling in earnest for the first time since…I don’t remember. I suppose I don’t smile often. “I win the day.”

As the excitement of the win wanes, I’m suddenly aware of how close our faces are. I fight the urge to mumble an apology and put a more proper distance between us - but this is how you win in Zekren, and I’m a serious adult who doesn’t get distracted by long lashes and soft lips.

“I haven’t lost yet, I still have my best trick,” Althea says. She hasn’t surrendered - she’ll lose after ten seconds down, but I have a solid lock on her, it’s a formality.

“Do your worst,” I answer, bracing myself for any way she could try to roll or wiggle.

She cranes her neck and kisses my mouth.

I freeze with shock, the feeling of her lips on mine sending jolts of electricity along my back. For an instant there is only me, and her, and the kiss we share, and what were we even doing on this stinky mat?

Then she moves, snake-fast. She frees an arm from my grasp, twists my shoulder and rolls over me. Before I even process it, she has me in a lock, and she’s laughing.

“What the…” I ask, struggling to scrape coherent thoughts together.

“You think too much, soldier girl,” Althea says. “Ten seconds. The day is mine.”

She gets up, laughs again, and helps me on my feet as if nothing special had happened.