The products of effort could be said to be skill and pride. And just like skill, pride did not come to all in equal amounts—some people carried a pride that refused any challenges to its existence, while some remained quiet, confident in their own abilities. However, it was a rare person that would have no pride whatsoever, and Corrin considered it an important part of self-improvement. As the strongest team in The Grass Sea, he was certain The Sentinels would have it.

That, or they’d just humor him.

But for one reason or another, they’d accepted his challenge, and stood across the arena and warmed up while he did the same near the exit where Wyn and Kei were watching.

“What are you doing?” Kei hissed. “Do you seriously think you can win?”

Wyn snorted, but he let Corrin answer for himself.

“No idea. It’d be a waste of time to worry about right? I’ll fight as hard as I can, and I’ll either win or I won’t.” He took a deep breath and winked at her. “But I don’t plan on losing.”

She gaped for a moment, mouth opening and closing like a fish. Finally, she giggled, covering her mouth with her hand. “Fine then… I’m rooting for you, so put on a good performance for us okay?”

“Try not to go down in the first volley.” Wyn smiled dryly.

Corrin shot him a wry smile. “Gee thanks for the vote of confidence.”

Then, he stepped away from the wall, heading for his side of the arena, rolling his shoulder as he went. The Sentinels were done warming up on the other side of the arena, and Ayden called out to him, cupping a hand to his mouth.

“Ready to get your ass kicked?”

“Don’t worry!” Corrin shot back, “When you lose I’ll let you blame it on your shoulder okay?”

Even from across the arena, Corrin could see Ayden grinning as he twirled the spear casually in his hand.

“Wyn, you give the signal!” Reiss yelled.

Corrin channeled aura to his legs and eyes, he would only have a moment.

Wyn wasted no time. “Begin!”

Reiss’s bowstring tore the air with a loud thwap as Corrin dashed to the side, dodging the first arrow by a hair. It splintered the wooden wall behind him, but Corrin had no time to consider it—another one was already flashing towards his head.

He slashed it out of the air as he shot forwards. A second one hid in its shadow, but Corrin had seen that trick before, and he’d been expecting it. He caught the arrow on the flat of the blade just in time to meet Ayden, who’d charged ahead.

Corrin’s eyes flickered back to where the rest of The Sentinels were standing. Emeryn had hesitated, torn between hanging back to defend the vanguard and pushing forward to engage Corrin directly. It was only a moment’s hesitation, but it was one he’d banked on.

Reiss’s arrows faltered as Ayden blocked a clear shot.

Corrin’s channels burned, eager for a fight, for a single instant, he could see Ayden’s eyes, shining with the same intensity as his own.

Corrin didn’t have time for that—there was a bigger threat on the sand. Corrin had trained for two weeks, working his body each day until he passed out. Still, two weeks wasn’t enough on its own, especially not so soon after seeing mana for the first time. He’d had time to plan, to think, and to study. He’d fought each of The Grass Sentinels—Ayden, Reiss, and Emryn, and to some extent, he knew what they could each do.

But The Grass Sentinels were four strong.

Corrin looked past Ayden, and his eyes locked with Melanie’s. The mage—the unknown. The hunt had only confirmed his plan of attack. No matter what happened with the others, he couldn’t let her complete a spell.

She saw his gaze and held up the book she’d been reading before—was that her focus? Mana began to swirl above it, building as she chanted.

Ayden struck out with his spear, and Corrin spun around the thrust, bursting past the water-channeler, who let out a cry of bewilderment.

One more to beat. He thought as Emryn hefted her huge sword, she wasn’t wearing her armor, instead trusting to her shard-mantle for defense in spars.

Their exchange lasted six blows. Corrin slipped his blade under her guard, ash racing up its edge as she brought her mantle to bear. Sparks of black clashed against gold, and Emryn threw herself backwards as her mantle shattered, tumbling against the sand, but avoiding getting tagged by his sword.

Corrin turned on Melanie.

“...relinquish thy glacial—” she stumbled over the incantation as he struck out towards her.

One down.

And then Reiss was there.

The archer caught Corrin’s sword on his own bow, which was wrapped in a layer of wind, buffeting the blade back.

Corrin’s eyes widened as he saw the older man’s offhand, in which a ball of swirling mana raged. The force of the wind was so strong that it blew the sand beneath them away, leaving only the stone which lay beneath.

“You cheat—” was all Corrin had time to say before Reiss drove the ball into Corrin’s stomach with an open palm. Corrin had summoned his mantle to defend, but the force of the wind picked him off his feet and sent him spiraling—literally—through the air.

His stomach lurched from the rotation, and unable to reorient, Corrin slammed into the ground, sliding painfully through the sand.

“You didn’t really think you’d seen all my tricks did you?” Reiss called out cheerfully. “I’m impressed though, most people vomit the first time they eat one of those.”

Corrin spit out a mouthful of sand and laughed with unrestrained joy as he pushed himself up. In all their fights, he’d never seen Reiss use a single melee technique.

“I—”

“Snow’s Fury!” Melanie finished her incantation, and Corrin was interrupted by a snowball to the face.

The force of the hit almost knocked him back to the ground, but instinct kicked in before his mind caught up, and he caught himself, bracing as another slammed into his shoulder, then another in his leg.

What are those? He grit his teeth and braced his mantle as he tried to dodge. Each snowball hit with the force of a punch, and they were firing from all over, a constant stream of attacks. It was a perfect spell for applying non-lethal pressure. He needed to figure out a way to deal with it.

But before he could think, Ayden was on him again.

The spearman thrust for his chest, weapon coated in a thin layer of blue, and Corrin brought his blade around to parry just in—

The spear curved.

Just before hitting his sword, the spear abruptly changed course, water mana surging around the tip as it jerked to one side, attempting to dodge his parry.

Ash aura lunged into place as Corrin caught the tip on his arm, knocking the spear off course and over his shoulder.

Another snowball plowed into his face, blinding him.

He kicked up sand to put Ayden in a similar spot as he scrambled away, trying to regain his footing.

Another set of footsteps pounded towards him through the sand—Emeryn.

Damn. I was so close too.

He lifted his blade anyways, better to go down fighting.

***

Less than three minutes later, battered, bruised, and covered in sand and snow, Corrin threw up his hands.

“I give, I give!” he yelled, dropping his sword and shielding his head.

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

The hail of snowballs stopped as the training arena fell quiet.

With a dramatic sigh, Corrin let himself collapse onto the sand. “Maaaan. I really thought I had it.”

Ayden, almost as bruised as he was, loomed over him with a grin. “In what world did you have that?” He held out a hand. Corrin took it and the spearman pulled him up.

“I‘ve got to ask, how do you do that spear-dodging thing?” Corrin rolled his shoulder. “It’s an amazing technique! So simple, but absolutely brutal to defend against!”

Ayden puffed out his chest. “Well, it’s—”

“Later Ayden,” Reiss chuckled, stepping in. “How does your ego feel after that Corrin?”

“Sufficiently humbled,” Corrin admitted. “I underestimated both of you.”

“Yes well, you have more raw power than any of us, so perhaps you can’t be blamed for that,” Reiss mused. “It’s scary frankly, but did this battle teach you anything?”

Corrin nodded, looking down at his hand. He tried to create a spinning ball of mana in his palm like Reiss had, but he couldn't get it to coalesce. “I need more techniques, my options are so limited in a fight other than just overpowering someone.”

Reiss clapped him on the shoulder. “Not a bad answer. Now, we've got all day isn't that right? So how about we get started on that? I'll even teach you a few more tricks?”

Ayden perked up. “Hey that's right! I still want my one on one! You lost your challenge, so you can't leave until I get mine!”

Wyn hopped over the divider into the arena. “Might as well get some training in, I suppose. We won't be able to do much on the strider.”

“No thanks, I'm out.” Melanie said dryly, walking towards the exit with her book. She stopped for a second and looked back. A faint smile played on her lips. “It was good meeting you all. And thanks for the recommendation, Wyn.”

Wyn nodded, pleased. “Always happy to talk to someone else with some culture. Good luck with your research.”

Corrin raised an eyebrow. When had those two talked?

It was just a passing thought though, and he forgot it as all five—plus Kei, who cheered from the perimeter—began to enjoy themselves again. The arena was alive again. Swords clashed, sand shifted, snow flew. But between the battles, there was laughter. There was betting, boasting, and cheering. Sometimes it was quiet, but never for long.

Corrin fought Ayden five times, winning three. He and Wyn fought the three remaining adventurers a couple of times, yielding similar results. Wyn fought Emryn, Ayden showed Corrin some spear-forms, and Corrin did the same with swordplay. They threw snowballs, they played games, they made bets. Wyn grabbed a notebook when Reiss talked more about techniques. At one point, even Kei joined—complaining about the cold sand the whole time—and attempted some basic kata.

They practiced—no, they played until the sun was on its way down. As it always did, the time ran out too suddenly, and before Corrin knew it, they were saying goodbye. His boots were already on, and they stood at the entrance of the arena. Where had the time gone?

“It was a pleasure working with you my boy,” Reiss said, placing a firm hand on Corrin’s head.

Corrin’s laughter died as he met Reiss’s eyes. They were brown, warm against his black hair—though now that he really looked, Corrin could see that some of his hair had already grayed.

He swallowed the lump that suddenly appeared in his throat.

“Keep working hard on your journey,” Reiss smiled. “We’ll be rooting for you, even from across the world.”

Corrin chuckled bashfully. “Ah… thank you.”

Reiss stepped away, and before Corrin could react, Emryn pulled him into a hug—stronger than expected. “It was good meeting you Corrin. You’re a fun guy, and I know you’ll do great in Taravast.”

After a moment of surprise, Corrin hugged her back. Of all the sentinels, he’d trained with her the most. “Thanks for all the help Emryn. Try to have a little more confidence in your mantle okay?” He leaned in, voice low. “And good luck with Ayden—not that you’ll need it. He’s got it bad.”

She pulled away, face red, and spun around before anyone else could see.

Corrin chuckled and turned to Ayden. For a moment, they just looked at each other. Then Ayden stuck out his hand. Corrin clasped it tightly.

“Take care of yourself, Ayden.”

“Get stronger. Kick ass in Taravst.”

Corrin grinned. “You know it.”

The spearman turned to Wyn, who’d said brief farewells to the other two. They shook hands.

“It was a pleasure meeting you Wyn. I hope we meet again.” Ayden smiled. “And uh, thanks again. I owe you.”

“It was nothing,” Wyn said easily. “Without you we—well, I should say I consider us even already. If I’m ever back in The Grass Sea, I’ll try to get in touch.”

“Don’t hesitate.”

Finally, Ayden turned to Kei. “Thank you for the advice Miss Kei. I wish we could have spoken more.” He searched for the right words, but couldn’t seem to find them.

“I know,” Kei said quietly. She took his hand and shook it. “Good luck Ayden, I’m rooting for you.”

He grinned, blushing.

“Let’s go,” Emryn grabbed his hand and led him out, following Reiss.

Those seemed so much warmer than what he said to me. Corrin noticed, pouting.

Just before disappearing around the corner, Ayden glanced back, eyes meeting Corrin’s. “Oh, and Corrin? When you reach the top of the tower, I hope you choose well.”

Corrin watched him go, sticking his hands into his pockets. “The tower’s not where I’m headed, Ayden… but thanks.” His voice was quiet, speaking to himself. “See you later.”

Wyn placed his hands on Corrin and Kei’s shoulders. “And then there were three. Now I know we’re all starving, but supplies come first. Got to get them before the shops close.”

Corrin and Kei groaned in unison.

Wyn held up a list, completely unfazed. “Corrin I need you to get…”

***

“I’ll be over tomorrow morning to pick you up okay?” Wyn asked, standing at the door to The Stilled Steppe. Corrin was waiting outside, muttering something about the cold.

Kei yawned, the meal sitting heavily in her stomach. Perhaps her father would’ve chastised her for eating too much, but with another month left on the sea, she had to pack in as much real food as she could.

“Thank you Wyn,” she said. “If I’m not down here already, just knock on my door.”

“Of course. Have a good night Kei.” Wyn bowed slightly, ever polite to anyone besides Corrin. She’d grown to appreciate that about him—the way he wore his manners more honestly than the men she’d known.

“Goodnight Wyn.” She gave a small wave, and he let the door close.

The Stilled Steppe was quiet, though it wasn’t as though nothing was happening. Glasses clinked behind the counter of the bar as Lars poured himself a drink, a pot of soup bubbled in the kitchen as Helena finally made a bowl for herself, and a broom whispered against the wooden floor as Brier swept up the remnants of another rowdy night.

Lars took a sip from his glass, leaning on the counter with a satisfied sigh. “Those two are a good sort, you’ve found some worthy friends Kei.”

She smiled. “Yes, I suppose I have.”

“So, this is the last we’ll be seeing of you then?”

“Yes… I suppose it is.”

“Helena get out here! Kei’s trying to go to bed!” He called out.

“Why you—” Helena stormed out of the kitchen and smacked him on the head. “Be quiet fool! You’ll wake the other guests!”

After berating her husband, she came out from behind the counter and walked over to Kei.

“Eldress Helena,” Kei started. “It’s been a—”

She never finished the words. Helena embraced her with a strong, warm hug. Kei stiffened. Her arms hovered uncertainly for a moment before instinct took over, pulling the older woman in.

“We’re going to miss you Kei,” she said. “I’m glad you chose to stay with us, even if only for a little while.”

Kei’s breath caught. “Thank you for having me,” she said, her voice quavering.

The older woman grabbed her shoulders and held her at arm’s length, meeting her eyes with a stern gaze. “Make sure to eat more, you’re too skinny! And speak up when you’re asking for things, you’re too quiet.”

“I… I will!” Kei nodded, trying to convince her for reasons she didn’t understand.

Helena pulled her back into a hug, which lasted a bit longer, before she made her way back to the kitchen. “I’ll leave some food out for you to take, spirits know what kinds of rations those two boys will have you eating otherwise.”

“Thank you Eldress!” Kei bowed, her eyes stinging.

When she raised her head again, she saw Brier leaning on his broom. He flashed her a smile. “It was nice meeting ya Miss Kei, come back any time okay? And stay away from troublesome boys.”

“Of course,” she bowed again. “I hope—I hope you have a good life.”

He snorted at that for some reason, but then got back to sweeping. Short and sweet, that was how he lived.

Then there was one.

Lars reached under the bar and pulled out something, an envelope, crudely folded and stamped with plain wax. “I’ve met plenty of people from across the sea. And you, Miss Kei, aren’t the most interesting on paper.”

She frowned.

Lars glanced back into the kitchen, as if to make sure his wife wasn’t listening.

“You don’t have any good stories—at least that you’re willing to tell. You’re tough to talk to, and you put your brother on a pedestal so high I’d bet even he’s worried about the fall. But you know what? I don’t think I could’ve told you that when you first got here.” He walked out from behind the bar and put a gentle hand on her head. “You’ve gotten stronger.”

Kei’s eyes widened. She reached up and grabbed his wrist. She didn’t want him to move his hand.

“And wouldn’t you know it? So have I.” The barkeep smiled, and with his other hand, held up the envelope. “For my daughter. Figured it was time I manned up and sent her one. There’s been so much going on after all. There was the hunt, the spirit knight, and of course, a quiet young lady who stayed at the inn, even if only for a little while.”

“I—” Kei stumbled over her words, clenching his wrist tighter. “I’m sure she’ll be glad to get it.”

“I hope so,” he said. “I worked hard on it. How could I not? When you’ve been working so hard yourself. Or did you think I hadn’t noticed?”

Kei’s grip tightened so much she was worried she might have hurt him, but when she looked up, his eyes only showed pride.

“Just keep working hard, and keep your head up okay? From where I’m sitting, you’re already past the hard part. And when you come back, make sure to bring me some good stories. With any luck, you’ll be able to meet Selma next time. I really do think the two of you would get along.”

Kei swallowed, and forced a smile onto her face. “I'll look forward to it.”

He smiled, much more naturally it seemed, and ruffled her hair. “Get some sleep Kei, I doubt the veldstrider is as comfortable as our beds.”

As she walked up the stairs and into her room, Kei felt as though she’d never be able to sleep. But as soon as she hit the mattress, she remembered how tired she was, and soon she was slipping away.

She had one last thought before sleep took her. One she’d never had before—she’d never had a reason to. When she set out on her journey, she’d known she’d return to her brother, no matter what. Perhaps it spoke poorly that her first experience with it was for a small, insignificant inn, surrounded by grass in the middle of an unimportant country, the realization hit her all the same.

It’s hard to say goodbye.