Vaela followed Jace out of the brothel and through the large doors to the outside. Jace had doffed his robe for a form-fitting shirt and pants. The morning sun bathed her in warm light as she stepped out the back and into a courtyard. Behind her, Hermit, Surah, and Adyr filed out into the open air. Vaela blinked a few times, her eyes adjusting to the light. This wasn’t what she was expecting behind a brothel.

The courtyard had a large open area of leveled dirt. On either end, several racks held a variety of weapons. Vaela squinted and craned forward. They weren’t normal weapons. They were Hoops weapons–maces, staves, shields, and swords with no blades. Her pulse sped up and her grip tightened on her walking stick. This was what she’d come for. Training, to grow stronger.

Most of the bruises and soreness from the training on the road had faded. Despite everything, she’d slept well last night. They’d retrieved their stuff from the seedy inn and taken up residence in the seedy brothel. It was her first night in a bed since leaving Xufont. Her mind had tossed and turned the predicament with Adyr and Timura over and over. The comfort of the bed and fatigue of her body won out, though, and she’d drifted to sleep.

She glanced over at Adyr. Her blonde hair was in a tight bun. Jace had given both of them new tunics and pants. They were plain–no frills or designs. Nothing that would be caught during a fight. Around Vaela’s waist, she’d strapped her vials of blood.

Jace backed up into the open area and spread his hands. “Welcome, honored guests. Welcome–to our training grounds.”

Vaela swept her stick the length of the courtyard. “Why does a brothel need a training grounds?”

Jace smiled and clapped his hands together. “It doesn’t. But you do.”

Vaela lowered the tip of her stick to the ground. All of this–for her? Just so she, and their other “Champions”, could grow stronger and learn to fight?

Hermit laughed and leaned on his staff, flipping a hand at Jace. “Don’t try to come off so mystical.” He extended a hand out to Vaela. “This is mostly used for Jace’s parties, not training.”

Jace clicked his tongue. “Allow me some theatrics, will you?” Hermit held up his palm and pressed his lips together. Jace swept his arms wide once again. “Come, Champion. Let us begin.”

Vaela took a step forward then halted. “Wait, um, what are we doing?”

“Fighting, of course.”

“Right.” Vaela looked over at the weapons rack on the left. “So… I should grab a weapon then?”

Jace beamed at her. “Ah, you’ve already warmed up. Excellent, yes, then grab a weapon.”

Warmed up? Was that something they were supposed to do? She shot a look at Hermit. He’d never had them warm up while training on the road. Beside him, Adyr rolled her shoulders out. An energy clung to her frame, like a cat ready to pounce at any moment. Every morning and before every session, while Vaela and Surah had swapped complaints, Adyr stretched. Often, she had gone through slow movements with deep breathing. Vaela had always enjoyed watching her, but never thought too much about it. Some form of religious ritual, a vestigial routine from her Church days.

Vaela’s heart sank as Adyr took a deep breath and circled her hands in a wide, rhythmic motion. She looked loose and limber, ready to fight. Vaela quickly rolled out her shoulders. “Uh, no, I didn’t know we were supposed to warm up.” Adyr snorted and continued her movements.

Jace frowned. “I see.” He shot a withering glance at Hermit and strode over to Vaela. For the next ten minutes, she, Surah, and Adyr followed his lead on a series of movements that left Vaela puffing. By the end, a sheen of sweat covered her body–and she felt… looser. The morning stiffness worked its way out of her muscles and she bounced on her toes. It felt good.

Jace clapped his hands at them. “Alright, now jog to the weapons, make your pick, and jog back. Scurry along now.”

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Surah bounced off to the left and Vaela followed a few steps after. Adyr headed to the right to the opposite weapons rack. Vaela spun and jogged after her. The racks held the normal assortment of blunt weapons in a variety of sizes. Adyr ran in place as she surveyed a rack of staves. She plucked one and planted it in the ground. It reached eye-level and she exchanged it for a longer one. The next staff was slightly taller than her and she nodded.

Vaela trailed to the maces. “Do you think I can use my stick? That’s what I fight with anyway.”

Adyr assumed a fighting stance and took a practice swing. “Do what you want.”

Vaela clutched her stick to her chest. Would the training damage it? Getting thwacked with metal weapons all day surely wasn’t good. Adyr glanced over and her eyes landed on Vaela’s stick, hugged tight to her chest. Her face softened and she lowered the tip of her staff. “Use a sword and shield.”

That made sense. She’d just get a sword of similar length to her stick, let that take its place. Vaela offered her a smile. Adyr flipped her head away and delivered a thrust with a grunt. Whatever tests she was running must have satisfied her. She jogged back towards Jace without another word.

Vaela held her stick up to the swords. One of them was just slightly shorter. She grabbed it and laid her stick in its place. The metal felt unforgiving in her hand. No familiar grooves, just cold iron. She gave it a swing. It cut through the air with a whoosh. Good enough. Right?

She selected a shield of similar size to her own and fit it on her arm. Her own was still in the room. How was she supposed to know to bring it? Her fingers brushed against the vials. At least, she’d put this on. It had become habit in the morning. A comforting ritual. She tapped the third vial–Sight. The belt felt like Madame Gavora squeezing her, sometimes. She patted it fondly and jogged back to Jace.

Surah held a large shield that extended all the way to his knees. His eyes peeked out over the rim. In his other hand, he held a staff as tall as he was.

Vaela stopped next to him with a snort and tapped her sword against his staff. “How’re you gonna use this with a shield?”

“Simple.” He took a few steps away from her and turned. The butt of the staff tucked under his arm and he held the staff a third of the way down with, extending the weapon in front of him like a lance. He poked it at Vaela, while cringing behind his shield. “If I keep them from ever getting close enough, I’ll never have to fight.”

She laughed and batted the staff away with her sword with a clang. Before he could wrestle the weapon back towards her, she stepped in and tapped the tip of her sword on the rim of his shield. “Yeah, but what if they get in?”

He dropped his staff and shooed her sword away before gesturing to his legs. “Then I use these in Operation Turtle.”

“You kick them?”

Surah spun and dropped into a crouch. He held the shield over his head and scurried away a few steps before popping back up to his feet. “As I said: if I keep them from getting close enough, I’ll never have to fight.”

Vaela groaned and retrieved his staff. Some ally he would be. She tossed his weapon back to him. “You know that Operation Turtle is the worst possible name for a plan about running away quickly, right?”

“Have you ever seen a turtle lose a sword fight?”

She bobbed her head. “Fair point.”

“And besides”–Surah planted his staff in the ground and leaned on it–“you’re the idiot who has to fight to save the world. I’m just here for the food.”

Jace clapped his hands, bringing their attention to him. “An excellent segue.” He pulled a metal rod about the length of two hands from a pocket. Above the hilt was a crossguard. There was no blade or edge on the object–basically a blunt dagger. He pointed it at Surah and Adyr. “You two are companions to a Champion. While you won’t have to fight the Twisted themselves, you need to be able to defend yourselves if you want to stay around.”

Adyr’s eyes flicked to Vaela, then back to Jace. Would she be a companion? Vaela fiddled with the hilt of her sword. Adyr could leave at any moment–nothing bound her to them. And with the mounting danger of being associated with them, it would probably be wise to do so. Vaela swallowed hard and looked at Adyr. If she left, would she ever see eyes that blue again?

Adyr slid back into her fighting stance and lowered her staff into position. “I won’t run away.” Her eyes darted to Vaela, then back.

Warmth flushed through Vaela’s chest. Maybe Adyr was just staying out her sense of responsibility. She seemed to be buying into this whole Created-Twisted thing more than the rest of them. But whatever the reason, she was staying. Vaela stepped back into a fighting position, raising her shield and leveling her sword at Jace.

Surah groaned and raised his staff like a lance. “Well, I will run away, thank you very much.” He glared at Adyr and Vaela. “And I’ll appreciate you two withholding your judgy stares.”

Vaela grinned and tipped her shield at him. “Hey, no judgment here.”

“If you’re dying, I’m not rushing in to save you.”

“Got it.”

“I’m not.”

“Whatever you say, buddy.”

He sighed and nodded at Jace. “You better teach me everything you can. I’ve a feeling I’m going to have to kill these little Twisted of yours, just to drag her ass out.”

Jace laughed and turned his body sideways. “Oh, I intend to whip you all into shape.” He lowered his measly dagger at the three of them and cocked an eyebrow. “Now, heroes. Do your best.”