Florian stepped onto the training grounds, which was in reality a little dirt field in the middle of a bunch of the multicolored tents that lined the interior of Leeds. Thirty other men and women were already there, though where the women had come from, Florian had no idea.

One of the soldiers that had escorted Florian to the barracks the previous day stood before all of them, watching Florian with an appraising eye. The man was large and built like a mountain. Florian couldn’t really tell where his neck ended and his head began. It was almost as if a protein shake had been reincarnated into human form. Fortunately, the man turned his gaze to the group at large, most of which was armored in the uniform fashion of Leeds.

“Though the vast majority of you already know me, for the benefit of our new addition, my name is Rodger Hornbeck, and I’m the commander of the Leeds Warriors. You’ll answer to me directly, and to everyone else in order of seniority,” Hornbeck began, pacing back and forth as a drill sergeant might. “But first, before I can entrust you to protect the lives of my people, and them yours, I need to know that you can fight.”

“I’ve shown you my magic already, Mr. Hornbeck,” Florian noted. “But I can do so again, if needed.”

“You’ll call me Commander, and that’s not my concern. I’ve seen your magic firsthand, son, and it really was something. But I need to know whether you can last on that thing,” Hornbeck pointed at Florian’s wooden leg.

“I can, Commander.”

Hornbeck ran his fingers through a mop of salt-and-pepper hair. “That’s good and all, but I’ll need you to show me.” Hornbeck waved one of the soldiers over, a remarkably tall woman who managed to tower over even Florian, who was at a comfortable 6”1’. “You’ll need to defend yourself from Anna for just a minute. If you can do that, I’ll believe that you have what it takes to stand up on those walls with the rest of my soldiers.”

Florian nodded. He went over to the makeshift weapons rack, picking up the closest thing to a mace that he could find. The thing was nearly spotless, only a couple indentations indicating that it had been used in practice at some point. Clearly, it was not a popular selection, but it was simple enough, and Florian had had a great deal of luck with Bludgeon, may it rest in peace.

Anna sized him up, finding a much more beat-up spear. She stood like some kind of actor from one of those old movies, her feet firmly planted in some kind of stance. Florian’s eyes went wide.

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It had just occurred to him that he’d never seen competent warriors fight before. In Dover, he had rarely left the forge, crossing the greens only to get to his little room to sleep. Anna, though probably strong enough to wrestle with a Hellwolf – and probably win – would fight with much more skill and intelligence.

Florian readied himself. If he wanted to, this fight could have been made completely lopsided. All Florian had to do was to cast an invisibility spell on himself. But a part of Florian understood that resorting to something like that would land him far from the good graces of Hornbeck. Instead, he resolved himself to only using magic where it was absolutely needed.

As it turned out, as soon as Hornbeck signaled the beginning of the spar, Anna’s spear went almost invisible itself. Florian was trying his hardest to focus on his opponent, but her spear kept flitting in and out, nearly hitting Florian half a dozen times if he hadn’t managed to stumble backwards in time.

Then, as if Anna’s spear was moving through molasses, her spear slowed. Florian felt a bead of sweat drip down from his forehead. That had been close. Florian raised his mace, and with as much speed as he could will it, he swung it at his opponent. Anna, not subject to the same limitations as her spear, was able to mostly dodge out of the way, but the impact that remained was enough to wind her. Hornbeck looked at Florian askance; it was meant to be a defensive test.

Florian focused then on slowly retreating, making sure that Anna’s spear could move at a fraction of its normal speed by imagining up some ridiculous air resistance. The effort began to manifest itself as discomfort in his head by the end of the minute, as the air resistance was more tangible than any illusion, but Florian had succeeded in his task.

Sure, it had been an incredibly boring thing to watch. Florian just walked side to side, dodging a super-slowed spear. The wooden leg had hardly interfered with the task, and Florian’s greatest test during the spar was nearly tripping over a small rock at some point. This had been an unfair task from the outset.

But for all he realized Hornbeck wanted this to be a fair fight, if couldn’t be. Florian was far from a proper warrior, but short of Theo, he was probably the second-best wizard on the planet. Unless there was a secret cult of wizards that had hidden themselves from public view, this was almost a singular advantage.

And Florian needed to earn his place at Leeds; without Theo to maintain the invisibility spell for the majority of the night, Florian wouldn’t be able to survive the first night outside of the walls of Leeds, much less travel back to Dover. If he wanted a place to rest and strengthen his magic, this had to be it.

Hornbeck nodded as the minute came and went. "Okay, that's enough. I don't know what you did to Anna, but that'll do just fine up on the wall. Just be careful of stones, son," he warned. Florian grimaced; the older man had noticed Florian's slight misstep. "Now, let's draw straws for which of you'll be studying under Mr. Theodosius and who will remain here with me to drill."

Florian started to raise a hand. Hornbeck shut him down.

"Not you, Mr. Cale. You're with me."