It turned out Kamatie's idea of testing involved Avakian being repeatedly beaten up with a hardened foam stick. He and Kamatie had walked from the admissions building into a massive indoor gymnasium with a ceiling nearly 100 ft high, and booked a room specifically designed for sparring. The room they had booked had padded floors; to avoid injuries, and a glass viewing area where spectators could watch.

The room contained lockers packed to the brim with mock weapons dyed in block colours; from swords, axes and knives, to more esoteric weapons that Avakian had no name for. Picking one up he noted it was heavier than he had anticipated, a hit shouldn't be lethal but certainly wouldn't be a joke.

"Any weapon preference?" She asked, inspecting a polearm slightly taller than her.

"None that come to mind." He replied, wincing at the sight of a particularly brutish looking spiked club.

"We'll start you off with this." She passed him a straight, bright red sword lacking a crossguard; a jian style blade. "If that doesn't work out you can try the spear."

"Now, attack me." She commanded.

"Aren't you worried about injuries?" Avakian said with uncertainty. He suspected that she was skilled enough to avoid injuring him, but the last thing he wanted to do was accidentally hurt her.

Kamatie paused for a second, shocked, before erupting a deep, bellowing laughter that caused the glass behind him to vibrate.

"It's refreshing meeting someone that does not know my reputation. In nearly 400 years of teaching, not one student before you has worried about injuring me. Come, boy, you will not harm me."

She levelled her staff at his chest with one hand, whilst making a beckoning motion with the other.

Avakian complied and pushed off towards her, sword raised in both hands above his head. His aim was to knock her staff to the ground, something he thought achievable until their weapons made contact.

Avakian immediately knew something was wrong, despite being held only with one hand, Kamatie's mock spear did not move even the slightest. The counterattack came from the right, a sweeping backhand that he impotently tried to block with his sword, only to be knocked off his feet and into the mat.

"Blocking is often a fruitless endeavour against an opponent of superior strength." She advised, as he rose to his feet, chest wheezing and hands shaking.

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The next attack came in the form of a thrust, aimed at his centre of mass. Avakian didn't try to block this strike, but instead twisted his upper body in an attempt to negate the damage. He was partially successful, but the glancing hit to his shoulder still hurt.

Closing in, he tried to make his movements as unpredictable as possible, randomly shifting his mass left and right in order to throw off her aim. Kamatie's next swing came incredibly slowly, almost lazily, but due to Avakian's random movements he ended up dodging into it, and it hit a lot harder than it should have.

"Again. And cease with the ridiculous movements, using foolish techniques makes you a fool. Be better."

Kamatie turned around and stepped back a few paces, giving Avakian a short break to take stock of his ailments, of which there were many. He organs felt battered and he was unable to breathe properly, his left shoulder hurt incredibly, and he was forced to wield his sword with his one hand. Even so, Avakian felt a stubborn streak rising within him, forcing him onto his feet and back towards the insurmountable challenge before him.

He took in as much air as his abused lungs would allow, and started again towards Kamatie. This time Avakian scrutinised her movements in excruciating detail, delaying his own attack until he saw her draw back her spear arm with deliberate lanquidity. He ducked the strike he knew was coming, and slid on his knees towards her flank, swinging his jian in a reverse backslash that connected with her thigh.

"Good." She stated, smiling very slightly. "Prediction of an opponent is possibly the most important tenet of any combat. Many martial artists go a lifetime without truly discovering that."

"That seems... Obvious, I suppose." Said Avakian cautiously.

"Perhaps, but knowing and understanding are two different things. The best lessons," Kamatie gestured to her staff, "are learned through trial."

This was something Avakian agreed with vehemently, in a 5 minute fight with relatively high stakes he had learned more about combat than he would have in 5 weeks of listening to someone else talk about it.

"So what was the purpose of this? I don't know what Andy told you, but I don't exactly intend on being a warrior."

"People rarely do." She snorted. "But often you don't get a choice."

She twirled her staff around a hand, before tossing it into a corner and sitting down on the padded floor with a sigh.

"I didn't. I was born in the Central Folds; a place of true entropy and chaos, where the only kind of peace is the peace after a battle is won. Back then my ability to survive was fighting. My life was my sword, my home my shield, and my prosperity my bow. Nobody ever asked me if I wanted to be a warrior, I became one because I had no other choice, and unfortunately Avakian," She stared him dead in the eye, "neither do you."

Avakian knew exactly what Kamatie was talking about; he could not stay in Aemonsford forever, the concentration of Void was simply too low. Avakian didn't know exactly what Void was in the first place, but he knew after he had taken that orb, his body could not live without it. His organs would shrivel, his mind would numb, and his body would crack.

He would die.

He did not want to die.

Avakian had only been alive for slightly more than a week, and his experiences had been many, but at the same time, all too few. He was not overtly keen on the idea of fighting, but Kamatie was right.

If the alternative was death, he would fight.