Leander rolled out of bed with a groan as the sun started streaming through the window of his room. Even months later he could hardly believe that he had a window or a room of his own. He wanted to go back to sleep, but if he missed the beginning of the lessons then Laurel would tell him she was disappointed. That had happened once and he had felt so bad he could hardly pay attention to anything for the rest of the day. Despite what the adults kept telling him,if he disappointed any of them too much, they might make him leave the sect. Of course they told him it was for life, that he wouldn’t be kicked out for getting in trouble, but that was not how anything ever worked.

The scent of breakfast drew him down to the kitchens, where he found Esther already hard at work. Esther was nice to him, always offering food and not pressuring him to say anything. Even with the stone he wore around his neck, he didn’t always like talking. A lifetime of being quiet was hard to change. She gave him a flaky pastry filled with eggs and bacon and told him needed to fatten up some. He didn’t need to fatten up, he needed muscles! Martin had lots of muscles, and last week when a giant monster came out of the ocean he had shown up to punch it in the face! Probably. If he was strong enough they would take him on the adventures they were planning. He would be useful! And then he would definitely get to stay.

Leander was just licking his fingers after finishing the pastry when he got to the training field. The art tent was now a pavilion-thing and the empty field was now half hard packed dirt, half very fine sand, and half soft grass. Or something, he was working on math with the tutor. Somehow they kept it dry even in winter when a fine slush covered the rest of the city. Laurel and Martin were already there. They were always already there. Leander thought Laurel had told him something about cultivation and sleep once but he’d forgotten and didn’t want to bother her by asking again. Both masters were meditating so he sat down to join them.

Cultivation practice was good. He was at the point of sustained cultivation, like Captain Trip, when he would be able to cultivate for hours on end without getting exhausted. Laurel was having him begin to ‘smooth out his natural mana flows’ before he could make his meridians. But it was so slow, and he always lost the pattern after a while. It was practically naptime compared to Martin’s class on what he called “physical conditioning”. That was a grueling cycle of running, push-ups, squats, and a half-dozen other exercises. Then when they were ‘limbered up’, he drilled them in basic kicks and punches. They didn’t even practice against each other yet! Just did the moves on repeat in empty air, and if Martin thought you weren’t doing it right he would make you hold halfway through the pose until your arms and legs were shaking while he prodded you back into place.

They finished lessons and all the students trooped back inside to wash up before lunch. Esther hated it when they showed up to eat still sweaty from morning classes. Leander mostly listened as the rest discussed their cultivation or what they were working on in the afternoon. He would join in on occasion but he preferred to let everyone’s chattering wash over him.

After lunch he had a different kind of struggle. He was mostly grateful for the tutoring, but some of this stuff was just so boring. But if he had to learn history and math and all the other stuff in order to stay then he would.

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Late afternoons were free time. Some days, Leander explored the sect house and all the nooks and crannies that were hidden away. He had spent some time with Rebecca finding the people who were friendly to him when he lived in the Flats to see if they wanted to join the sect. But that was mostly done now. No matter what Laurel thought, there weren’t that many nice people in the Flats worth recruiting.

Today it was time for an adventure. After all, he’d completed missions for Annette already, and he could cultivate. Laurel said challenges brought the best growth so he would go out and find a challenge. Somewhere. He put on his dirtiest everyday sect outfit, no need to ruin his nice ones. Annette had bought them back when she got the rest of the uniforms and had brought them out a month ago as a surprise. The outer coat went down to his knees, light but still enough to cut the cool breeze. It was gray, with the sect emblem embroidered, like all their clothes, and there were tons of pockets on the inside for useful things. A spool of string and some emergency snacks and he was ready.

Standing on the top of the steps he looked towards the Flats. The memories weren’t all bad but why spend more time there? He turned and trudged to the road and then out of the city into the surrounding fields. Laurel said new animals and plants were showing up all over. She’d even gone with the army to hunt some during the trial. They were useful and could be turned in at the contribution point store. Martin and Laurel had said the bits they pulled off the sea monster were treasures worth enough that people could live off of for a lifetime.

Daydreams of coming home with a one of a kind treasure and being the sect hero sustained him for another kilometer or so. At this point the road was getting boring so he veered off towards some trees. The mud in some places was up to his ankles, but the boots were water-proof and went up to his knees so he was fine. Cultivators didn’t flinch at a little mud.

A rustle shook a tree branch when he got close. He paused, looking around. Then he reminded himself that he was a wizard now, and reached out with his spiritual senses. Something was definitely there. Leander dropped into the stance Martin had been drilling him in. Feet apart, one out in front, fists up to defend. He stood there and looked around. Once you get in the stance, how do you get the other thing to come close enough to hit? Ever so slowly he reached into one of his snack pockets, and pulled out some candies. Then as quick as he could, he chucked one at the tree. When nothing happened he threw another, then another, then the whole handful.

Something white and blurry shot out of the tree towards him. He scrambled to regain his stance and lashed out with a perfect punch at the blur. He missed. Martin had not covered what to do when you missed! The blur screeched and came towards him claws out. Arms in front of his face, he felt the claws tear into his skin. Tears pooled in his eyes but he refused to cry. Cultivators didn’t cry when they were attacked, they attacked back! But the blur kept clawing at him and he couldn’t focus through the tears to see where to punch. He couldn’t take it anymore, he just wanted the thing away.

When he thought the word away, something pushed out from his body. The blur was slammed into the tree trunk with a sharp crack. It was still long enough for Leander to realize it was an owl. The wrong place and too early in the day, but magic owls probably had different rules than the regular ones. It was breathing, but he could tell it was in pain. He took his stance again and went for a quick kick. If he cried during, no one was around to see. He picked up the corpse and almost teared up again when he realized he was bleeding, and it was at least three kilometers through the cold mud back to the sect house.

“Leander! We wondered where you’d gone.” Martin wasn’t the first person Leander had hoped to see when he got back. “What have you got there?”

He held up the owl, now stiff.

“Ah first kill? Well, now's as good a time as any for a little harvesting lesson.”