As an essentially awkward and shy person, Eric normally did his best to avoid notice. Others might enjoy being the center of attention, but the mere thought if it sent a shiver down his spine. He wasn’t the type to hang about in the corners and skulk in silence, but still. Having every eye turn to him, having men bow their heads respectfully, it was all new. And definitely unpleasant. Not to mention the giggles and whispers from the ladies he passed. He was starting to see why Samuel disliked the noble life.

He knew what caused it, of course. The golden pendant from the Queen hung around his neck, just barely visible at the base of his throat. It was half-concealed by the collar of his dark blue tunic but might as well have been a flashlight for all the attention it drew. Strangers took notice of him now, and their deferential greetings grated on his ears. He couldn’t wait to get off the road and tuck it completely out of sight. It had been a mistake to sling it back over his head that morning when he’d dressed to set off for Issho-Ni.

There was another change that the amulet and his new rank did cause, however, that he rather liked. The Queen’s Guard, the armed men and women who kept the peace, tended to recognize him on sight. They didn’t bow and scrape like the others but offered him polite, respectful salutes. It was a mellower sort of acknowledgment, a mere recognition that he’d done something good. He tried to focus on these reactions, ignoring the others.

He finally made it to the end of Queen’s Road and saw the large property that held Issho-Ni’s dojo. The main building stood out from its neighbors, the only military organization to base itself outside of the Military District. Eric knew that this was because Issho-Ni did not swear fealty to the Royal Family of Tyrman, but rather the peace and safety of innocents the world around. Still, its stark difference from the other places of business was undeniable. A spot of color and quiet elegance amidst the bustle and chaos of the outer city.

The members of Issho-Ni seemed to have been expecting his arrival, for the men on the verandah of the main building showed no sign of surprise at his appearance. If anything, they gave friendly waves and less casual salutes. Either they remembered him his last visit, or, more likely, Ehran had spread the word about him. He felt a little guilty, remembering that his last visit to this building had been at night, and he’d technically been trespassing.

The Royal Courier had requested that Eric visit as soon as he could, but dinner had gone on so long that it was past polite hours. Eric had paid a messenger, one who stayed within the Royal District, to tell Ehran that he would visit first thing the next morning. The reply had come back jovially. Ehran didn’t mind waiting until the morning and wished him a comfortable night in his new home.

“Good morning,” he said to one of the robed figures sprawled on the verandah. “Is Master Ehran in this morning?”

The warrior, who had been on his back, craned his neck to study Eric, his face upside down. “Nope. Ehran is in an early training session. He told us you would be coming, though. He wants you to join Calemviir’s class. It starts in a few minutes.”

“Alright,” Eric replied, having expected something along these lines. Ehran may not have made it easy to become his apprentice, but he still went out of his way to give him lessons. “Wish me luck.”

The three warriors waved lazily as he entered the dojo proper. It was already lively in here despite the early hour, with nearly two dozen people gathered around. They were ringed around the central sparring mat, just like his last visit. Two figures were sparring inside, each holding a wooden short sword, and moving to a set rhythm. This rhythm was dictated by the tapping of a wooden cane in Calemviir’s hand. It was a pretty basic drill and the two opponents were young.

Even Eric could spot several flaws in the fighting stances and movements of the two as he quietly joined the circle. One was a little clumsy and uncertain in his lunges, while the other tended to plant his feet. This stopped him from effectively side-stepping, and more than often resulted in his feet tangling. Calemviir made not comment or attempt to stop them when they made mistakes, merely keeping a set rhythm with the cane against the wooden floor.

The first boy got a lucky shot in, slipping through his opponent’s guard with a rapid if clumsy thrust. The other boy tried to step to the side hurriedly and promptly tripped. The first boy jumped forward and smacked the knuckles gripping his sword, forcing him to drop the practice weapon. He let out a little yelp and pull his hand in close, cradling it against his chest. A smattering of polite applause rang out from the spectators, which Eric joined in.

“Good work, you two. You will discuss your faults with your mentors, and improve upon your technique,” Calemviir said, clapping the two shy apprentices on the shoulder and gesturing them out of the ring. “Now we will turn to our next lesson, as our guest has arrived. Eric, it is good to see you again.”

Eric returned Calemviir’s bow hurriedly and began to unclip his two swords from the belt. Several of the older members of the class filtered away at this point, leaving just Calemviir, Eric, and the youngest looking apprentices. Eric returned to his former place in the circle, keenly aware of the gap in age between himself and the others. He felt a little foolish but pushed the feeling away. He was here to learn. It didn’t matter what it was, or who his fellows were.

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To his surprise, Calemviir gestured him to the center of the circle. He obliged, stepping barefoot into the circle, having removed his boots with his cloak, settling both on a shelf nearby with his weapons. He stood as relaxed as he could, trying not to let his nerves give him away. Calemviir smiled encouragingly at him and handed over two wooden training weapons. They were excellent copies of the weapons he carried.

“Good evening, Eric,” he said more quietly. “How have you found your time in Milagre? Has your training been satisfactory?”

“I’m learning a lot, Master Calemviir,” Eric replied with a smile of his own. “It’s a bit slow, but I’m making good progress.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” The master of Issho-Ni said, and Eric could hear the sincerity in his voice. “Ehran has been most impressed with your growth.”

“I hope to prove myself worthy of his teachings soon,” Eric laughed. “Though I fear it may be a bit before I pass his challenge.”

Something in Calemviir’s eyes confused Eric. The Master seemed… surprised. He couldn’t figure out why, or why the reaction puzzled him. Still, he pushed that thought aside, too eager to learn what was in store for this lesson. “So, what am I learning today?”

“You are learning how to teach,” Calemviir said with a wide grin. He rose his voice so that the other apprentices could hear him clearly. “Please tell us, Eric. Why did you choose your weapons?”

“Uhh,” Eric said hesitantly, thrown by his first statement. “I don’t know. They.. fit me, I guess?”

It was obvious by Calemviir’s expression that this answer was not enough. “Oh? Please, do elaborate.”

Taking a deep breath, Eric continued. “Well, when I first learned how to fight I had a shield. But it was too heavy for me, and Master Ehran suggested that I use a second blade instead. It took a lot of practice, but I finally got used to it.”

Calemviir gave him an approving nod, then gestured for him to explain further. “Why does this choice of weapon appeal to you?”

“Because it’s fast,” Eric said at once, eying the attentive faces of the apprentices. Feeling that wasn’t enough, he added, “When I hold the two blades, I have more options. If my first strike misses, I can immediately try again. Or, if my opponent has a longer reach than me, the second blade allows me more time to block and counter.”

Several heads nodded amongst the apprentices, and Eric heaved an unseen sigh of relief. He really didn’t fancy the idea of trying to teach someone else, but it seemed he’d passed that first hurdle without too much difficulty. Even Calemviir seemed satisfied with his explanation and took several steps back. He gestured to the wooden weapons that Eric held with one hand, an inquisitive eyebrow raised.

“Please demonstrate for us.”

Eric hesitated at first, his mind too full to think of a proper set of moves he could show. Surely there were a lot more people more qualified to teach than him. But Calemviir seemed to expect a demonstration, so he quickly shifted the shorter sword to his left hand. Taking a deep breath, he made two quick cuts with the sword. The right came down with a whistling overhead cut, and then he thrust out quickly with his left hand. Even he had to admit that the form was good, and the thrust perfectly straight and even.

More nods of understanding from the apprentice, even a few excited mutters. Emboldened, Eric continued. He described two crossed cuts with his right sword, then another thrust from the left. Instantly he jumped to the left, dodging an imaginary weapon, and cut back-handed with his right hand. He was moving easily now, his weight balanced on the balls of his feet. He jumped back, and cut downward again, this time with the left hand.

The students applauded the demonstration, and Eric sat back on his heels, a little flushed. Calemviir approached and put one hand on his shoulder. “Thank you for your demonstration, Eric.”

“That’s it?” Eric asked, disappointed in spite of himself. “That’s all you needed from me?”

Calemviir nodded. “I wanted them to see how the comfort of a familiar weapon looked outside the hands of a Master. Now you all see that it’s not only masters who can attain this level of comfort with his tools.”

The apprentices made noises of agreement, grinning eagerly at Calemviir and Eric. Eric gave them all a quick bow, which they matched, returned the practice weapons, and retreated from the circle. Calemviir continued his lecture as he reclaimed his swords, reclipped them, and sat down on the bench to don his boots. Once he’d finished that, he felt a little out of place, and so made his way back outside to the verandah.

“So, how did it go?”

Eric turned slightly to see Ehran, lounging on the verandah beside his fellows. They all grinned widely up at him, clearly having known what was expected of him inside. Eric took a few steps over to join them and leaned against a nearby post.

“It was stressful,” he admitted. “Well, not the demonstration part. I just didn’t expect that I’d be helping teach. Thought I was going to learn something new.”

“But you did learn something new,” Ehran corrected him. “Or at least, you were supposed to.”

Eric frowned slightly, casting back to the session inside. What was there for him to learn? Then he thought of that shift from nervous anxiety to total calm when he’d started making those cuts against an imaginary foe. It was a rush, no doubt about it. But maybe what Ehran wanted him to realize was that he always had something to teach, even as he had something to learn.

“Close,” Ehran said with a laugh when Eric shared this guess. “The point was to show you how annoying it is to teach.”

The others laughed uproariously at this comment, and even Eric had to grin. “Fair enough. I can see why you don’t want just anyone as your apprentice.”

“Exactly,” Ehran said, jumping to his feet with ease. “But you passed my test, so I’m obligated to teach you now.”

Eric suddenly remembered Calemviir’s surprise and confusion. Then, with a shock, he remembered that tiny, chaotic moment when Anya had begun her attack in Shigeru’s temple. He’d kicked out, and knocked someone flat. That had been Ehran after all, then. Slowly, a delighted smile spread across his face. He hadn’t expected it, but he also couldn’t deny his pleasure at the thought. He quickly made a bow, losing a little of the movement’s grace in his eagerness.

“I look forward to your teachings.”