When Abrial stepped outside into the courtyard of the paradise gardens, Instructor Wei was already waiting for her by the pond of lilies and lotuses, leaning against the trunk of a pine and gazing at the flowers. He wore his customary light blue robe, the color of a calm river. A practical silver ornament pinned up his long, dark hair, and a thin, pale blue headband rested across his forehead. As always, the pale blue cloth of his robes seemed to float slightly about him, as though a breeze were living inside it.

Abrial’s eyes lit up with stars at the sight of him.

“Instructor Wei!” she hollered, her voice brimming with joy. She waved at him with her whole arm, the cloth of her scarlet and black robes flapping about wildly.

“Abrial.” Instructor Wei inclined his head slightly, a smile gentle like the breeze spreading across his face. His voice was warm, and kind.

Abrial shot out of the doorway towards him like a comet. She tackled him in a hug, sending him staggering back into the pine trunk as she pressed her face into his shoulder. He smelled like freshwater and the wind. Chuckling, he patted her on the back, until she released him a moment later, laughing.

“You are excited, I see.”

“Stating the obvious, as usual!” Abrial grinned up at him, crossing her arms. “What have you been doing since our last lesson half a year ago?”

Instructor Wei smiled slightly, eyes sparkling. “Secret, honorable things. Battling evil. Fighting for honor. Something along those lines.”

Abrial grinned gleefully. “So you haven’t become less secretive, I see.”

Instructor Wei smiled. “I have told you the truth. And you have not become less curious, I see. What is it you have been doing to for half a year in this house?” He gestured to the mansion looming over them, as though it wasn’t obvious which house he was speaking of.

Abrial stiffened slightly.

A series of images flickered through her mind:

Her raw fingers prying windows open desperately at midnight.

Gasping awake in the cold darkness in a pool of sweat, her breath thin as ice.

Flinging robes around her room in uncontrollable fury until her arms throbbed.

She pursed her lips, forcing them all away.

“The same as usual,” she shrugged nonchalantly. “Nothing different.”

As Abrial stared at his shoes, Instructor Wei’s eyes seemed to pierce keenly through her for a moment. The look passed, replaced with his usual gentleness.

“You seem more unsettled than the last time we met. What is it that is troubling you?”

Abrial’s chest tightened. Her chest got that feeling—like a heavy, burning shadow was seeping into it. She clenched her fists and looked up seriously at Instructor Wei. Then, faster than a lightning strike, she flashed forward.

There was the sound of clanging metal. Two blades struck each other harshly, and their bodies morphed into a blur of blue and scarlet and black. The sharp clashing of metal on metal repeated in an erratic, rapid succession. After a moment, their movements slowed into a visible rhythm.

Their bodies twirled around one another like the ocean in a storm, each striking and blocking as though to some invisible music. It became clear that Abrial was clutching two thin black blades, one in each hand, both the length of her forearms — daggers. Instructor Wei, on the other hand, fought with one long, thin silver blade — a sword.

Abrial sliced at Instructor Wei’s knees, and his sword was there to block her, throwing her daggers back as though they were light as feathers. His sword swung in an arc towards her neck, and she caught it between her daggers, twisting it — but he twirled away before she could pull it from his grasp.

They fought like this for what seemed hours — or perhaps it was only minutes. Striking back and forth, these two waves clashed and pulled away continuously. Lotuses drifted silently along the surface of the pond as they danced around one another, their flashing images reflected in the water.

At last, the rhythm of clashing metal slowed. Abrial’s graceful movements grew more forced. Sweat dripped down her forehead. Her muscles burned as though they were on fire, shrieking with each new step. Still, her eyes flashed with furious concentration, and she forced her arms to strike, her feet to step.

It happened in an instant.

Instructor Wei’s sword flashed toward her chest. She deflected it with one knife, then faltered in the next step, her foot landing just too close to his, and then—

She squeezed her eyes shut, holding her breath.

When she opened them, Instructor Wei’s long, silver blade was hovering a hair from her heart. If it shifted so much as the width of an eyelash, it would pierce her skin.

She swallowed.

Instructor Wei pulled the sword away, sheathing it smoothly. His breath was steady, and he wasn’t sweating a single drop.

Abrial dropped her daggers and sank into a squat, gasping in ragged lungfuls of air. Many strands of dark hair had come loose from her bun and hung now over her eyes, obscuring her vision. Her face shone with a layer of sweat, and when she wiped it away, a streak of blood smeared her cheek.

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Instructor Wei remained silent as she leaned over the pond, scooping up water to wash her face. It felt soothing and cool against her burning skin, but it stung her hands. Her palms had begun to bleed again. She washed the blood off them and scooped up more water to drink.

When she had finished, she slumped to lie on the ground, staring up at the pale blue sky and slowing her breathing. The quiet, calming sound of rustling leaves filled her ears.

“Your stamina has improved.”

Abrial grunted in response.

“You have been exercising quite often. I assume you have pushed yourself before this lesson. Perhaps by climbing?”

Abrial turned her head with some difficulty. “How…did you know?”

“Your motions did not contain your full strength. You arrived here tired. And your palms have already begun to bleed.”

“The shafts…of my daggers are just chafing. It’s not…a big deal.”

“Please, let me see your palms.”

Instructor Wei knelt beside Abrial, taking one of her hands in his. He turned it over, examining it closely.

“Your hands have been healed twice today. The skin is very raw and new. I cannot heal them again, or they will become even more fragile.”

Abrial pulled her hand away. She had regained some of her strength.

“Don’t heal it, then,” she said, pushing herself to a slouched sitting position. “It doesn’t hurt.”

But already, Instructor Wei was unrolling a cloth bandage he seemed to have pulled out of thin air. He took her hands, one at a time, and bandaged them, sprinkling a dark substance on the skin before wrapping them. Abrial recognized it — elm bark. Finley had used it on her before.

“Elm will sting like hell,” she grumped, wincing.

“It is better than getting an infection and not being able to use your hands at all.”

“I guess.”

Instructor Wei lifted his hand and made a small, smooth motion with two fingers, as though summoning someone.

A cool breeze blew through the courtyard, soothing Abrial’s skin and blowing hair from her face. She closed her eyes, shivering with delight. Her muscles seemed to relax, her breath deepening. The noise was pleasant in her ears. Trees and plants rustled softly all around.

When the breeze stopped, she opened her eyes. Instructor Wei was watching her, his face calm and unreadable.

She grinned at him. “Instructor Wei — you do magic all the time. And you’re really good at it. Do you never use magic outside of this house?”

He blinked at her curiously.

“Why is it that you suddenly ask?”

Abrial studied a single lotus, floating across the pond on a lily. She decided to ask a question that had been bothering her more and more every day now. Instructor Wei was wise, and knowledgeable. If anyone had a good response, it’d be him.

“Instructor Wei...do you think magic should be punishable by death, like His Majesty does?”

Silence for a moment. Then, he answered steadily:

“The Emperor is a human being, as all of us are. It is not his decision to decide the morality of a spiritual tool.”

“Ah! So you don’t believe magic should be illegal.”

Instructor Wei seemed to be studying something somewhere very far off. His dark, gentle eyes were cloudy. “Your question is a complicated one. In truth, everything depends on what one decides to do with magic. Like a blade, it can be used to help, or to harm. I do not think blades are evil smply because some use them to murder.”

Abrial wrinkled her nose sourly, trying to understand. “So, basically, you think magic and magicians should be allowed. As long as people don’t use magic to hurt other people.”

Instructor Wei looked amused. “Perhaps.”

Abrial nodded, her expression thoughtful. It quickly transformed into a look of frustration.

“Instructor Wei, if I went out on the street and used magic in front of other people, what exactly would happen?”

Instructor Wei’s eyes suddenly laser-focused.

“You are saying, in the case that you ran away from this house.”

It wasn’t a question. So, Abrial didn’t answer.

Instructor Wei shifted his gaze to the branches of the pine tree that was shading them.

“If a person performs magic in public,” he said slowly, “witnesses will scream. Guards will arrive quickly. They will beat that person motionless, then slit their throat. If they do not kill them on the spot as an example to others, they will seize that person and drag them away to the nearest prison headquarters. There — ” Here, he paused, and his eyes darkened. “There, they will be tortured.”

Abrial raised a dark eyebrow. “Tortured?”

“Yes.” He didn’t elaborate further, but simply continued to gaze at some faraway horizon, his face grim.

Abrial clicked her teeth in frustration. “I just don’t get it! For what reason? It doesn’t even make sense! Why would you torture someone for healing someone, or making a fire, or getting the wind to blow?”

“...There are many reasons to torture someone. Perhaps for information. Or perhaps…simply out of cruelty. For selfish reasons. Out of hatred.”

Abrial huffed, lying back in the waving grass with her hands behind her head. “Well, I don’t care what the reason is. I hate the Emperor! He’s horrible. Somebody should get rid of that guy.”

Instructor Wei raised an eyebrow, studying her.

“Abrial, are you aware that it is against ancient imperial law to refer to the Emperor as anything but ‘His Majesty the Emperor’?”

Abrial stuck out her tongue sourly. “Of course. My mother reminds me all the time. She freaks out and gets all furious when I don’t. But I don’t care. I can say what I want! It’s crazy and stupid to punish people for saying different words than you want them to! Hey — if I called him “that guy” on the street instead of “His Majesty”, what would happen?”

“You would be beaten. Not killed, if the guards who arrested you were in a good mood.”

Abrial raised her eyebrows and nodded. “I could handle a beating. Then—what if I called him “stupid”? Or…dog-fucked?”

Instructor Wei’s eyes flickered darkly. “You would end up dead. That would be a careless method of throwing your life away.”

Abrial frowned at him, sitting up. “You look so serious, Instructor Wei! I never said I was planning on doing that, heh — I’m just curious.”

She vaulted to her feet. Her muscles felt much better now, somewhat rejuvenated with the break of conversation and the breeze Instructor Wei had summoned.

“I’m ready! Let’s spar again.” She adjusted her scarlet and black arm guards, tightening them roughly. Then she looked up, grinning crookedly. “I’ll be much quicker this time. You’ll see.”

“We will spar only once more. Otherwise, your hands will be severely injured.”

Abrial scrunched her nose and made a sour expression. “Whatever you say, Instructor Wei.”

Then she lunged at him, and they became a blur once more, a serpentine blue river dancing around black and bright red molten rock.