“Upset you didn’t get a chance to fight?” I ask her.

She scoffs. “As if. I like hurting stupid nobles who don’t know when to shut their disgusting mouths or keep their hands to themselves. I don’t need to fight a woman capable of throwing a small mountain around like a toy.”

Her eyes move to Alana. “Or an insane woman who wakes up at dawn to swing her sword.” Her gaze moves to William and becomes disdainful. “Or a boy whose idea of combat looks like a child trying to splash someone with water as a prank.”

William adjusts his frames, face flushed with embarrassment. “Yes, well, what is your specialty, Miss Marthe?” he asks, a touch aggrieved, and I don’t blame him.

“Hmph.” Marthe lays her hand on the table. I can feel the heat as the wood under it turns to ash. “I can melt anything I come into contact with. Even pigs in metal suits.”

One trick but it’s a good one. Reaching those kinds of temperatures without burning herself takes some precise variables. Probably why she practices with her little warm shell. “I’m going to guess you’re lacking a way to incapacitate someone for long enough to burn their faces off.”

“Yeah?”

“Otherwise, you would be eager for a fight.”

She shrugs. “My teacher told me to focus on one thing at a time.”

Your teacher? It can’t be someone at the Hall, initiates all receive the same instruction. Well, anyone the Hall is willing to sponsor can’t be simple. “No matter. In terms of combat, Arthur, Alana, and myself are more than enough. Either one of us, I think.”

“Don’t be so sure,” Alana says. “This is the Hall. We may be facing initiates but they’re the best the kingdom has to offer. There’s bound to be a few extraordinary people.”

“I take your meaning.” Still not concerned. “There’s something else I wanted to discuss. What can you do besides fighting? After all, the rules said the objectives would not directly involve combat. Again, as team leader—” I ignore Alana’s scoff. “—I’ll go first. I’m fairly good with a bow and decent with a dagger, throwing and dueling. I’m also a summoner, though I doubt the test will have anything to do with that. Delving the many realms beyond our own has left me with a wealth of obscure knowledge, which I’m guessing will be equally unhelpful. Vice-leader, you’re up.”

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

It takes Alana a moment to realize I’m talking to her. “At least I’m second-in-command,” she mutters. “Um, I’m pretty good with a needle and thread, starting fires, handling animals, and I make a decent stew.” She glances back and forth between us. “Grew up as a servant, pretty good with chores.”

“Uh-huh. Willie, got any other skills we need to know?”

He pushes up his frames. “In anticipation of inheriting my father’s businesses, all of his sons were educated in accounting, history, and noble customs.”

“Noble customs?”

“Famous poems and stories. Intellectual pursuits such as philosophy. Dancing.”

Marthe scoffs. “That’ll help.”

“You never know. What if our test is a dancing competition? Ha! That’d drop a few jaws.” I chuckle at the thought of initiates armed to the teeth staring at an instructor in confusion when they’re told to find a partner for a waltz. “Then, Marthe. Can you do anything besides destroy my table?”

“Foraging, trapping…and memorizing stories.”

“Hah?”

She scowls. “In my village, important information was told through stories. I was really good at remembering them. I…” Her voice is wistful, eyes distant with old pain.

Then she remembers that she’s an angry, prickly girl who doesn’t share her feelings and her face comes down. “I’m good at remembering information quickly. That’s it.”

“Okay. As for Arthur…” Bell put him upright in a chair but he’s still unconscious. Probably better that way. “I’m going to assume fishing, sailing, annoying people to death? Inducing vomiting in women?”

“Should be right,” Alana sneers.

Mm. My team is quite strong in combat but we’re lacking otherwise. I imagine most teams will have the same problem. People don’t come to the Grand Hall to become potters or minstrels. “They may say that the tests don’t involve combat but they can’t be that far off. I think we’re in pretty good shape, considering.”

“Then, are we done?” Marthe says.

Where’s the team spirit? “We’ve hardly done any training. We still have to fight together.”

“Why? We’ll just throw you and Arthur at whatever.”

“That’s not going to do much for your evaluation. You do recall we aren’t being judged so much on the objectives as we are our performance? We’re a team but we’re all being evaluated individually.”

“Then what kind of training do you have in mind, leader?”

Ah. Geneva? A little help.

[If all of you need to work together, it would be good to know their running speed. You can only move as fast as your slowest member.]

Umu.

[Roles should also be established. In an emergency, it’s important to know whose orders to follow. While you have established yourself as a leader, with your abilities, you’d be far more effective working alone.]

That’s Alana, obviously.

[Then they need to be accustomed to following her orders. A simple game would suffice. The subconscious is a powerful tool. If they follow her orders for several days, they’ll instinctively want to follow her orders during the test. And I imagine the seaman needs to be trained to follow anyone’s orders.]

Alright, I’ve got this. Thank you as always. Don’t know what I’d do without you.

[If we are lucky, you will never have to find out, my summoner.]

Ah, that’d warm my heart if her honeyed words weren’t a ploy to get more pieces of me.

“I know what we’re going to do. Time to take this training to the house. Bell…get the Herbanacle.”