“It was unlike anything I’d ever seen. I thought we were sunk—the rebels had already breached our base. I was sure it was only a matter of time until those ILF bastards pinned us down, made mincemeat of us. That’s what would’ve happened if High Lancer Berla wasn’t with us—but she protected all of us.”

—Former Chidron of Emaltor Synthad Premorea, in an excerpt from his memoirs about the Emaltor Civil War

The next day Zaina woke up early. All the past strangeness was behind her for now—there was no scratching at the door or nightmares; even the whispers had died down. Today was going to be a good day—not only was she going to get her armor at last, but she was also going to meet her swordsmanship tutor.

Still not knowing how to use the gamba machine, Zaina drank a glass of water and then prepared for the day. She dashed out the door, only to be disappointed.

Her mentor was waiting, leaning with her back against a tree and casually scrolling through her vexicon. Zaina glared. She wanted to say something—so she did.

“You know,” Zaina said, “you’re such an awful teacher that they had to send me a tutor to show me how to use a sword.”

The woman scoffed. “Is that so? Well, I’m glad you’ll finally get the help you so desperately need.”

Zaina ignored her response. She turned her back and practiced summoning her cipher—she had to have it down perfectly before meeting her swordsmanship teacher.

Maybe they can become my mentor, too. I wonder if High Scholar Fawndar could arrange that.

Before long, a transport arrived nearby, but its occupant was obscured by the treeline. Within a few minutes, a familiar face arrived, along with someone Zaina didn’t recognize.

The familiar face was High Lancer Terco, the woman who had apprehended Zaina when she first arrived on Kaado—the friendlier of her captors, no doubt, but Zaina had little trust for anyone who spent time with High Scholar Vae.

The other person was a tall man dressed in a long, gray coat with billowing coattails. He wore a fancy button-up shirt lined with gold underneath that, and had long, black hair, gray eyes, and pale skin. He was human, as far as Zaina could tell; he wore black gloves on his hands.

“Well, well, well,” the man said. “You must be Zaina Quin—the one in need of some practice with a cipher.”

A little nervous, Zaina said, “Y-yes, that’s me.”

“Excellent. My name is Arbala. It’s good to meet you, Zaina Quin.”

“It’s good to meet you too.”

High Lancer Terco stepped forward. “Hey there, troublemaker.”

Zaina glared—was she joking about arresting her? That wasn’t funny.

The High Lancer grinned. Then, she said, “I guess I should properly introduce myself after that whole mess. My name is Veli Terco. Sorry about arresting you—old man Vae’s pretty paranoid about your type.”

Zaina couldn’t care less about the High Lancer’s apology. She glanced over toward her mentor, wondering how she’d react to their visitors. To her surprise the woman was smiling warmly.

“Arbala! Veli! What the hell are you two doing here?”

Zaina’s shoulders sank. Apparently Arbala and Veli were friends with her mentor. Hopefully they’re not anything like her.

“I came to see you,” Veli said. “I heard you’re doing a cracked-up job of teaching your young pupil here.”

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The woman snickered. “I’ve taught her everything she needs to know about teaching herself, by teaching her nothing at all.”

Arbala crossed his arms. “You know, if you didn’t antagonize High Scholar Vae every chance you got...”

The woman’s eyes rolled. “Oh, come on. It was like, one incident at most. Anyway, you’re here to show her how to be a proper wielder of a cipher, eh? Well, good luck, kid.”

Arbala chuckled and then asked, “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Only that I’ve beaten you every time we’ve sparred.”

Veli stepped forward. “But have you ever beaten me?”

Zaina’s mentor gave a clearly exaggerated sigh. “You’ve got me there, almighty High Lancer. One of these days I’ll get you.”

Veli spread her arms. “It could always be today—who knows?”

The woman waved the challenge aside. “No, I’ve been too out of sorts. Too many lazy days watching this one try to figure out her vexicon.”

“Oh, she seems fine,” Veli said. “Come on, then. Arbala is among the Order of Riiva’s finest wielders of a cipher and its finest teachers. Zaina—I’m sorry again for the circumstances of our first meeting. We’re here to help you in any way we can today.”

Zaina nodded. Veli’s demeanor was welcoming. It was hard to stay mad at her.

Arbala stepped forward and, with a sweep of his arm, summoned a blazing red cipher into his hand. It pulsed with energy, giving off a low hum as he stopped ten feet away.

His head tilted. “It’s a pity we can’t practice in your full armor—but still, we can cover the basics.”

Zaina reached out and summoned her cipher. Its metallic ring echoed into the still air of the Kaado morning.

Arbala continued, “The most important aspects of swordsmanship are footwork and technique. There’s a lot more to it, of course, but we’ll dive right in. Come on and attack me.”

Zaina blinked, unsure whether she heard him correctly. “Huh?”

Arbala spread his arms. “Let’s see what you’ve got. I won’t attack—I’m only going to defend myself. I assume you’ve never really fought with a sword before?”

Zaina shook her head.

“I thought so. Well, let’s get you comfortable with wielding it, first and foremost.”

He held his cipher out in front of him, spreading his feet a little wider than his shoulders; Zaina mimicked his stance and stepped forward. She wasn’t sure about attacking him, but he was a professional, right? It would be fine.

She brought the sword down in an overhead swipe—Arbala moved his sword to meet hers, knocking it aside with ease. He twirled the cipher in his hands—she swung wildly. Arbala met her blade and parried, using Zaina’s weight and momentum against her, making her stumble.

Arbala kept his cipher in a defensive position. “Light on your feet but planted, come on then.”

Zaina regained her balance. With a tight grip on her blade, she calmly walked toward Arbala and swung in a short arc. Their weapons clashed. This time, Zaina resisted his parry, keeping her balance and surging forward.

In a calm voice, while being pushed backward, Arbala offered advice, his cipher deftly staving off every attack. “Swing through your target—like you mean it. Never move half-heartedly. Keep your weapon in front of you, ready to strike, ready to parry. Always center—center and balance. Come on, then.”

Zaina disengaged and kept her footing. She centered her sword in front of her like he’d said. He was using angles to block and redirect her attacks—she had to learn how to do that.

Zaina kept attacking him for a few more hours. By the end of it, she was much more comfortable wielding her cipher and was able to keep her feet under her and somewhat properly attack, and parry. Arbala went over the basics of footwork while Veli watched alongside the mentor—whose name she still didn’t know.

Every time Zaina’s reluctant teacher made a rude remark, Veli stepped in to chatter. Arbala was much more focused—to him, Zaina was all that existed. It was nice for someone to be so focused on helping her.

“Don’t worry about power, worry about speed. Power comes from speed and technique,” he said, reaching out to stab. With a flick of her wrist, Zaina knocked his strike aside and countered. He blocked an inch from his face and said, “Good. Your instincts are solid. Your technique is—unorthodox, we’ll say, but that can help make you unpredictable. Disguise the direction of your strikes—make your enemy defend at the last moment to keep them on the defensive.”

Zaina disengaged, drained after hours of intense practice, and said, “Thank you. I really appreciate all your help.”

Arbala bowed his head. “It’s nothing. You’ll never learn more than by teaching others—at least, that’s what I believe.”

Zaina bowed back. “My reflexes feel like they’re getting faster. Is that part of being a lancer?”

Arbala nodded. “Yes. Enhanced strength, stamina, durability, speed, reflexes, and regeneration—these are all part of a lancer’s powers. You’re still finding yourself, young Zaina. You’ve yet to measure your strength against those without Riiva’s gifts—I think you’ll be quite surprised at your skill then.”

Zaina’s happy moment was interrupted by a scoff from her mentor. “Nothing like a good power trip against some weaklings to boost your ego, right?”

Veli shook her head. “You’re so mean to this poor girl. What did she ever do to you?”

Her mentor shrugged. “She annoys me.”

Zaina glared but held her tongue in front of Veli and Arbala. She didn’t want to upset either of them and still clung to hope that one of them might be made her mentor when all this was over.