After Corvus’ timely introduction to the Desperius latrine, Gregory led him on a tour of the chapel.

“This large hall is the centrepiece of our home. Think of it like a large, social space where you can meet with your classmates and others. There are no limits to what you can do here, however, if you want more focussed or intensive practice or study, you'd be better off in the dedicated room for it.” Gregory explained, gesturing to the large black hall that they’d returned to.

“How many other rooms are there? Do all these doors go to a different one?” Corvus looked around sceptically. There was almost a hundred doors here, and if they were underground then there was no way that they all lead to different rooms.

“Not including the dorms and living spaces, there are about one hundred different rooms with dedicated purposes. And yes. Yes they do.” Gregory smiled at Corvus, almost giggling at Corvus’ surprised face. “Want to see them all?”

“No. just the ones that I’ll be using regularly so that I still have some room to think with.” Corvus scanned the room, trying to decipher which door went where. A small boy ran into his legs, falling over and laughing. Corvus looked down at the child, who’s eyes lit up.

The other child, a girl, that was following them picked them off the floor and pulling them away from Corvus, whispering something in their ear. The pair laughed and continued running around the hall.

“Cheery bunch aren't they?” Gregory chuckled. He scratched his chin, thinking over what rooms to show Corvus. “There are several that you will be entering on a regular basis that you should become familiar with initially. The other rooms are better suited for later studies, so you won’t use them much.” Gregory turned to Corvus. “Shall we?”

Corvus nodded, his eyes still on the pair, chasing after each other over benches, stone seats, even other people. Their parents were still lost in conversation, flicking through several small notebooks to try and support their points. Corvus turned to Gregory, indicating that he should lead the way forward.

He strode towards a door to his left, nodding politely to a small circle of men, lost in their books. He pressed his hand against the black and green slab of stone, causing it to shift and swing open.

There was nothing on the other side of the door, only a pitch black void. Gregory turned and smiled at Corvus, hinting that he was going to enjoy his reaction. The pair walked inside, the stone door closing behind them and plunging them into silence.

The room was pitch black, completely absent of light. There was a rush of small buzzing sounds that seemed to come from nowhere, overwhelming the darkness. Then there was a space of green light, then another, then more. The small felias blinked to life, swimming through the air like leaves on a sea breeze. As more light flashed into view, the outline of the room became solid.

Then there was the contents, which definitely caught Corvus’ interest. Weapons everywhere.

Racks reaching up to the ceiling of swords, maces, axes, pikes and various other instruments of death that Corvus didn’t recognise. Barrels of what looked to be gunpowder were stacked in a corner that was larger and larger the more Corvus looked at it. Muskets and other firearms had their own racks, numbering in the thousands at least.

Corvus only then realised that the room was far larger than he thought. It was just as big, if not larger than the large chapel they had just left, with the addition of an army’s worth of weaponry and munitions. There were unstrung bows, more arrows than could be counted and even large slingshots beside sacks of small, black rocks. If you could think of a way to kill someone, there was something in here you could use.

“Cool.” That was the only word that came to Corvus’ mind.

Gregory threw his head back in laughter, slapping his leg. He took a few steps forward, examining the stacks of weaponry, with the occasional glance to Corvus.

“Does anything appeal?” He asked, a large grin on his face.

Corvus took a few steps forward himself. He had lost most of what his father had left him, only having his belt, pouch, knives and Raven left. He had his anchor, but judging by the sheer variety of the room, there was clearly no limit to how many weapons he could make use of. He took several steps forward, running his hand across the smooth, stone racks of killing machines.

He saw something at the far end of the rack that caught his attention. He stepped towards it, and time seemed to stop. A pair of cutlasses, crossed blade over blade. A memory of him and his father forging a similar pair, perfectly fitted to him, ached in his mind. He instinctually reached out to touch them, the steel was hard but flexible. Brutal but graceful. Gregory stepped behind him, an eyebrow raised.

“Cutlasses? Interesting choice. You’ve used them before?”

Corvus opened his mouth to speak, but no sound escaped. He took a breath, massaging his constricted throat.

“Yes. I’ve made some before, but the pair that I had were destroyed.” Corvus’ voice was slightly gravelly. He coughed, getting his voice back to normal. He stared down at his right hand, constricted just beneath his chest in white ribbons, and clenched his remaining fist in fury. “I prefer using two, but I’ll make do with one.” Corvus glared at the cutlasses, as if they were taunting him.

Gregory took a few moments to consider this, before picking the cutlasses off the rack and sheathing them in their respective sheaths. He smiled sympathetically at Corvus.

“I’ll send them to the smith so that you can make the most out of them, regardless of your situation.” He wrote a small sentence of black writing into the air, then crushed it in his fist. Several seconds of tense silence passed, a sense of guarded curiosity about what he just did. The door opened, spilling intense green light into the room.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

It was the same man that Corvus had seen with Cleo earlier, sweat plastering his large forehead.

“Yes, my lord?” The man panted.

“Ah, Daeden. Please give these to Cleo, with instructions to make them suitable for use by our new friend. She has seen him fight so she will know how best to proceed.” Gregory offered forward the pair of cutlasses.

The large smith, Daeden, reached out and accepted the cutlasses as if they were a holy object, nodding frantically. He bowed his head quickly and exited the room, sending the weapons in the room back into eerie shadow. Gregory went to pat Corvus’ shoulder but decided against it.

“Having only less usable arm doesn't mean you can’t fight on par with the best of us.” Gregory smiled warmly. He turned back towards the door. “Speaking of which, let us continue. I think you will enjoy this one.” Gregory walked towards the door, tugging it open and motioning for Corvus to follow.

After a backward glance towards the incredible armoury, Corvus did so, walking out the door and back into the chapel. In those short minutes, the people in the chapel had changed. There was no more children, their parents had gone too. Instead there was a large group of young faces, maybe thirty or so, shouting over each other, as if all trying to be heard. A worn-faced man stepped out in front of them, trying to get them to keep moving.

The man was short and looked like he was chiselled out of stone. He was all power, muscle, and seriousness, less so in height. His dark-red skin and ruby-red eyes added to his intimidation, if his large, calloused hands didn’t already terrify. He yelled out to the group, directing them to one of the doors. His shattering baritone voice silenced the shouting group, leading them into the door opposite Gregory and Corvus.

“What luck. We get a demonstration.” Gregory chuckled, leaning back into his heels while the group were herded into the door. After they had vanished into the darkness, Gregory strode forward, catching the door before it closed, allowing Corvus through.

The room looked dark at first, but after a few steps, the bright light of green fire pierced his eyes. After blinking the spots out of his eyes, Corvus was faced with yet another awe inspiring spectacle. A colosseum of rough black stone, lit by enormous braziers of emerald fire that surrounded an open area of dark sand. The seat and steps that led downwards were worn and heavily used by the looks of them.

Gregory strode through the door, chuckling to himself.

“It’s disorientating the first few times isn’t it?” Gregory motioned to the vast space, grinning from ear to ear.

“The fact that the rooms aren’t connected physically? Yeah, I gathered.” Corvus shrugged.

An unreadable feeling flashed into Gregory’s mismatched eyes, before being replaced by his usually warm smile.

“You're a sharp one, Corvus. You have already far surpassed my initial expectations.” He stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Be careful not to overextend yourself. There are some who would do almost anything to have an insight like that.” He whispered in Corvus’ ear.

Corvus recoiled in surprise. He opened his mouth to say something but Gregory motioned to the centre of the colosseum. Curious, Corvus shifted his gaze to the group. They had split into pairs, sparring with their partners. It was much faster than the small group that were in the chapel earlier, and the way they moved was more aggressive.

“They're actually fighting.” Corvus noted, intrigued.

Gregory nodded, taking a seat on one of the steps. Corvus followed suit, intensely focussed on the display of skill.

The short man stood to the side, observing the barehanded brawling. About a minute of organised back-and-forth beating, he called out for them to stop. They did so, walking into a circle in the centre.

“Here we go.” Gregory whispered excitedly.

“What’s going on?” Corvus asked, glancing sideways.

“That was the warm up. Now comes the exercise.” Gregory tapped his feet in expectation.

When Corvus returned his eyes to the class, curiosity filling his mind. The class nodded at whatever instructions he gave, going back into their pairs. Instead of sparring again, they stood slightly further apart, assuming different stances than before. The pressure in the room changed, popping Corvus’ ears.

Each one of them charged forward, surrounded by a green ethereal glow. They grasped various weapons into existence, twirling pikes, muskets and many other tools, there was even someone clutching a ghostly noose. Each clash of steel and parry of magical energy sent powerful echoes through the air. The fighting was visceral, cracks of bone were heard, muscles were torn and people yelled out in pain and adrenaline.

Each clash of weaponry made Corvus jolt slightly, as if his anchor yearned to be free and fight alongside them. He quelled these urges, focussing on the fight. It was a valuable experience, seeing people who were skilled in their magic fight so honestly. He would learn as much as he could so that he could put them all down if he needed to.

The clashing stopped suddenly. The group rushed towards one particularly hurt person, drawing dark lines around him to slow the bleeding from a deep wound in his stomach. The girl was writhing and almost screaming in agony. A few of the un-injured people carried her to a doorway on the far side of the colosseum, pushing it open and vanishing into the void.

The other members of the group wrote various sentences and runes into the air to quell the pain of their own wounds, before making their way to that same door and disappearing inside.

“That one goes to the infirmary. Dr Curos will heal them up in no time.” Gregory spoke casually, getting to his feet. The rest of the group was walking up the stairs back to the door they had come through. Corvus also got to his feet, eyeing the group cautiously. Gregory nodded to the short man, who saluted back, before returning to herd what remained of the group.

“Where are they going now?” Corvus asked, sending a glance towards Gregory.

“Let’s have a look, shall we?” Gregory grinned, following behind the short man and motioning for Corvus to follow him. With a few seconds of hesitation, Corvus fell into step behind the group. After exiting the colosseum and returning to the ever-lively chapel, the group made their way to a door on the opposite side of the hall, funnelling into it the same way as before.

This room was just as enormous as the last few, except it was stacked to the ceiling with books and scrolls. The air seemed to be steeped in silence. No one spoke, moved or even seemed to breathe. There was a middle-aged librarian walking across the room to meet the short man. His footsteps made no noise, adding to his air of mystery that was added to by his lantern of fluttering felias.

He didn’t speak, instead writing a sentence in the air and floating it towards the short man, who nodded in understanding, motioning to his group. They scattered, picking up various tomes and browsing them in small huddles. Gregory tapped Corvus on the shoulder, indicating they should take their leave. Corvus agreed, keen to leave the silence as soon as possible.

The pair left back into the chapel, where Corvus immediately took a seat on one of the stone benches, taking long, laboured breaths.

“The library has that effect on our new members, I'm afraid.” Gregory sat beside him, smiling apologetically.

“No warning?” Corvus sighed in irritation.

“I apologise. I shouldn’t have brought you in there without some notice.” Gregory nodded sadly.

Corvus sighed, getting back to his feet.

“So. Is that everything, or can I go to my room now?” Corvus asked, mildly angry.

Gregory’s face lifted slightly as he chuckled.

“You could, but I think there is something more important first.” He laughed to himself.

“What?” Corvus almost growled. Gregory was starting to get on his nerves.

“Well. Don't you want to meet your new friends first?”