Ember paused at the top of the hill, looking down at the ranked complex. The rising sun bathed the forest in red and orange tones, illuminating students running laps around the cluster of buildings. In the distance, Ember could hear the now-familiar sound of weapons clashing. With a twinge of nostalgia, she remembered when she and Jisu had stood in the same spot, ducking between the trees to spy on the advanced students.

She started down the hill, using her infrared vision to monitor how her muscles were performing. Although the weather was beginning to thaw, the stress of the first round of exams had left her fatigued, and she looked forward to finishing whatever test Ophelia had in store for the Practical Combat on Irregular Terrain.

“Ember!” someone shouted, and she turned to see Lance jogging toward her with his pale hair pushed back by the wind. His clothes were unusually disheveled, and dark circles rimmed his eyes. He panted, raising a hand in greeting.

“Good morning,” she said, and the two began to walk side-by-side through the complex.

“Do you know where Instructor Ophelia wanted us to meet?” Lance asked. “Her directions were a bit confusing.”

“She said to go behind the complex, but I can’t imagine what she might be planning.”

The two glanced at each other worriedly as they reached the edge of the forest. The trees behind the complex were wild and untamed, a barrier between the carefully cultivated vegetation of the university and the city. The forest floor was rocky and overgrown with underbrush, and the only trails had been left by wild game.

Just as Ember was beginning to think that they had gone to the wrong place, her infrared vision detected a splash of color between the trees. Beckoning for Lance to follow, she followed the footprint to a clearing, where, strangely enough, the forest floor had been outfitted with a large wooden platform painted white.

Jisu sat in the center of the platform, sharpening her knife. A handful of other students waited nearby, giving the panther a wide berth. Ember offered the cat her hand, pulling her to her feet, and gestured at the platform. “What’s this?”

The panther shrugged. “Don’t know. Sit down, I’ll help you stretch.”

As they warmed up, more students began to arrive at the clearing. Practical Combat had a few familiar faces from the intermediate class, but the majority were students that Ember had met during the course’s first session. All were skilled fighters since Ophelia had made graduating from the beginner’s class a prerequisite. Missing, mercifully, was Roland, his spot filled by a mild-mannered insect TA.

Ember heard Ophelia before she saw her. Like a shepherd, the fireworm was leading a flock of students, a medic, and another assistant to the clearing. She broke off her conversation, making her way to the center of the platform and crossing her spiny arms over her chest. “Good morning, everyone.”

Ember nodded at her. Since Ophelia taught both Practical Combat and the intermediate fighter’s class, the two had grown accustomed to seeing each other several times a week.

“Listen carefully,” the fireworm began, “because I have planned something unusual for our exam. I know some of you are disappointed by our course thus far, but it was necessary to establish a baseline skill level before we could tackle more advanced tactics. Today, the one-month mark into our training, is the perfect opportunity to begin in earnest.”

The more advanced members of the class broke into pleased expressions, and Ember felt a tingle of excitement. For the first month of class, they had focused primarily on theoretical knowledge and drills, many of which Ember had found repetitive. Although that may be about to change.

“Today,” Ophelia said, breaking out into a grin, “we’re going to play a game. The rules are simple—you will be divided into two teams, and each team will be assigned a base with a flag. Whichever team captures the enemy's flag and plants it at their base wins and is guaranteed an A grade. Team Blue’s base is a half mile north, and Team Orange’s base is a half mile south. Where we are standing now is the neutral zone, exactly halfway between the two bases: come here if you’re injured, and the medic will treat you.”

One of the older students, a pisces, raised a hand. “Forgive me, professor, but capture the flag? Where I’m from, we played that game as children.”

There were a few snickers at his tone, but Ophelia only smiled. “Many children’s games were borne of war. You may not have realized it at the time, but capturing the flag requires strategy: a plan for offense and defense, as well as physical prowess—speed, strength, and stamina. In my version, you are allowed to stop each other by any means necessary, as long as it does not cause grievous harm. You may even use your weapons, provided they have been coated with rubber. Myself and my two TAs will be monitoring the field.”

She tilted her head, checking the position of the sun. “If there are no other questions, let’s start now.” One by one, she assigned the students to the two teams. When she was finished, there were eight students in Blue and seven in Orange. Many of the intermediate students were split up, with Jisu placed in Blue, and Lance and Ember in Orange. Both teams donned colored jerseys, and Ophelia gave them the signal to start.

Team Orange set off in a jog to the south. Ophelia had not told them exactly where to find their base, and an unspoken pressure hung over the group to locate the area and set up their defenses. The terrain, however, made traveling quickly impossible. Bramble-covered hills dotted the landscape, tree roots jutted out unexpectedly, and rocks lay in wait under piles of fallen leaves. Once, they had to slow down to cross a rapidly moving, frigid stream, rolling up their pant legs and pulling off their boots.

The hike was too strenuous to exchange more than a couple words, so the only sounds were the crash of the underbrush and the team’s labored breathing. Ember surveyed the five other members, noting who fell behind and who rushed out in front. She stayed close to Lance, anxiety bubbling in her stomach—group work had never been her specialty, but she hoped the social ermine would be able to bridge the gap between her and the others.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

At the fifteen-minute mark, the leader came to a stop, and the rest of the group piled behind him. “I think we’ve overshot it,” he said, waving his arm hopelessly. “I lost the pace count.”

It’s only half a mile, Ember thought, but as she looked around, she realized just how dense the forest had become: visibility was limited to about five yards, the sky above was blotted out by the crowns of the gargantuan trees, and the branch’s movement in the wind had a disorienting effect. Suddenly, she regretted allowing the other reptiles to do all of the navigation on their runs.

The pisces who had questioned Ophelia crossed his arms over his chest. “I thought you said you were trained in wayfinding.”

“I am, but I lost track of my paces at the river. I told you, we were going too fast; it takes time to adjust for wind and slopes.”

“We’re already behind,” the pisces said angrily. He stepped threateningly toward the navigator, and Ember noticed his build for the first time: he was very tall and heavyset, with thick skin and a wide mouth. It was nothing compared to Elliot, of course, but enough to make the other students keep a wary eye on him.

Ember exchanged a glance with Lance. She had met many such arrogant, domineering personalities—the worst of them Roland. “I’m sure the other team is having the same difficulties,” the ermine tried to reason. He turned toward the navigator. “If we go back to the river, can you pick up the count again?”

“I’m not sure.”

“I have another idea,” Ember said. “I’m a decent climber. If we find a tall enough tree, I might be able to see the base.”

“You’d have to climb pretty high,” another student pointed out. “That may take too long.”

“What other options do we have?” a female insect asked. “I can’t even see the sun. We’ll start going in circles.”

“Can anyone else climb?”

There were headshakes all around. “Okay, then,” the insect said. “I think I saw a tall fir just a moment ago.”

She led them back a couple of yards, and sure enough, a massive evergreen pointed like a spire into the sky. Ember looked it up and down, finding it passable—the trunk was too wide to wrap her arms around, but there were plenty of branches to use as handholds and footholds.

“Can you do it?” Lance whispered, looking at her nervously. In response, she gripped the ribbed bark, pulling herself up to the first branch.

“I’ll hurry,” she told the group. And then she allowed instinct to take hold, focusing only on her grip and the periodic expansion and contraction of her muscles.

She moved much more quickly than she had just months before, startling birds and squirrels from their resting places. A familiar burn crawled into her muscles, and her skin prickled with sweat, but she kept her breathing steady and pushed onward. She stopped only once to rest, holding the nearest branch in a vice-grip as she panted. At least seventy feet below, the forest floor swirled unsteadily. She swallowed, continuing the climb the moment the black dots disappeared from her vision.

Then, suddenly, the world opened up all at once. Ember felt the wind at her back, and she turned with a squint to see that she had surpassed the nearby trees. The gleaming gem of the sun bathed everything in a yellow glow. She hugged the trunk, standing up slowly. The forest below was breathlessly vast, and the sight filled her chest with white-hot adrenaline. Below her, the crowns of evergreen trees stabbed the sky like soldier’s pikes.

Without thinking, Ember made her way to the edge of the branch like a tightrope walker. The chill wind blasted her face, tearing her hair from its braid. She could see the white stone of the ranked complex, and further past, the edge of the university. Her eyes followed the road in the other direction, where it wound into the city and beyond, interrupted by the redwoods of the great wall. Above, a bird of prey angled itself over the horizon, catching a draft.

For a moment, Ember was overcome by unreality—by the urge to dissipate like vapor and leave the waking world behind. But then, when she angled her head downward, her infrared vision detected the tiny pinpricks of color that were her group members, and she remembered her responsibilities.

What was I thinking? She shook her head. The base. I’m supposed to be finding the base. She sharpened her gaze, combing through the trees for a splash of color. It wasn’t long before she spotted it: a fleck of orange between the treetops only two hundred yards from where her team stood. Quickly, she memorized a list of landmarks before beginning her descent.

She pushed herself hard on the downward climb, trying to make up for the time spent lost in her thoughts. She collapsed to her knees as her feet touched down, gasping for breath. Lance called to her, his voice distorted, and she felt his arm around her shoulders.

“Well, what did you see?” the pisces demanded, his leg bouncing restlessly.

“Just wait a damn minute,” Lance replied, and Ember held up a shaky hand for patience.

As her vision cleared, she scanned the anxious faces of her teammates. “That way,” she pointed, “eastward. Walk along the fallen sequoia and you’ll see a pile of grey stones, then a cluster of aspen trees. The base is just ahead. Go now, I’ll catch up to you.”

The pisces turned, leading the way. A couple of the other team members sent an appreciative nod in Ember’s direction or looked at her with concern, but she waved them away, leaving only Lance by her side. She leaned against the tree trunk, holding her side as she waited for a cramp to subside. When she could finally draw enough air into her lungs, she and the ermine started toward the base.

They found the team in disarray. The pisces was standing near the flag, shouting orders, while several of the other team members looked at him discontentedly. “Your plan makes no sense,” an amphibian was saying. “How can I be on offense if can’t even lift the damn thing?”

Ember’s eyes moved between the amphibian and the flag. He was quite short, with a round belly and disproportionally small limbs not unlike Hickory’s. The flag, planted in the center of the orange platform, was at least five feet tall and made from solid wood.

“You won’t be lifting anything,” the pisces said exasperatedly. “Just support me while I grab the flag.”

“Support you how? I’m telling you, I’m the weakest fighter here!”

“Why should you be the flag bearer?” a mammal interjected, addressing the pisces. “You may be a strong fighter, but you’re not fast, and I’d like to see you fight while holding that flag.”

“Why don’t we-” Lance started to say, but he was cut off as the mammal and the pisces continued to argue.

Ember sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. It was the same for both Linnaeans and humans—the loud voices drowned out the others. She was already tired and frustrated, and the argument was like the sound of metal against a grindstone in her ears.

She raised her voice. “What’s your name?” she asked the pisces.

“Gunther,” he replied suspiciously.

“Well, Gunther,” she said pointedly, “I may not have the answers, but I know we’re never going to get anywhere if you don’t shut the hell up.”