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The Veiled Ones
Seven more Weeks

Seven more Weeks

The humidity of the Grave Marshes, east of the Citadel, flew with the wind and blanketed the Blackwoods in its horrid warmth. Yet, the initiates trained day in and day out, sunrise to sunset. Today, one half stood in several star-shaped formations while the other half attacked. The ones standing in these weird star-shaped formations were deprived of sleep, while the attackers were well rested. Relentlessly, they came from all sides, and with Scar’s permission, were allowed to even cut and slice with their swords. All while the tired initiates holding their formations were judged on how well their positioning was held.

Scar and Khalia walked around the field, spectating the mock attack, instantly correcting any initiate that fell out of line. It was a training session as well as a competition. If the attackers failed to break the formation, they would have to do double training tonight, but same went for the defenders. In reality, everyone fought like rabid dogs, wanting the satisfaction of winning and also not having to do double the training tonight.

It was Team Valdya and Team Astone’s turn to hold the formation, all they had to do was hold off the attackers from taking the straw dummy at the center of their formation for just another few minutes, but minutes felt like an eternity.

Arneth stood at the center of the formation, with Akaro and Gregorei at his flank, while Wigyur and Iris accompanied the rest of Team Astone at the sides of the formation. By now, the attackers realized the front of the formation was the strongest, where Akaro and Arneth were positioned. It was impossible to even budge the front. While the three holding the front possibly took the most punishment, being covered in cuts and bruises, it was also the hardest to get through.

The attackers slowly made their way down along the formation, reaching Iris’ side. A sword came swinging at her from the side but she was quick to parry it. Her tired eyes flickered from side to side, the bleeding cut on her cheek was a reminder to stay alert. Like a pack of hungry dogs, the attackers circled them. They were getting tired as well.

“Dont let up, they are getting tired too!” Arneth boasted with a chested laugh.

An attack came from the left side, Wigyurs side. He was charged at, but there was no brace for impact. Wigyur took the full force of the hit and tumbled down to the center of the formation with his attacker still on top of him. Edalia, who was also at the left flank broke formation to help Wigyur, who at this point was desperately trying to keep the man from grabbing the straw dummy.

“NO! Don’t break formation Edalia!” Gregorei yelled out.

Edalia didn’t listen, she punched the man on top of Wigyur right on the ribs, giving Wigyur the opportunity to elbow shove the man off him. He struggled to his feet, wobbling as he did, only to find his sword was no longer in his hand.

Edalia had no time to check if Wigyur was alright or not, she returned to the formation and took her old place helping the others fend off attackers that tried to take advantage of Wigyur being taken down. “Come on Wigyur, get back in formation! I can’t hold two places at once!” yelled Akaro, who desperately tried to fill in for Wigyur at the flank.

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“I can’t find my fucking sword..” he muttered in exhaustion. His eyes glanced around the ground and spotted the dirty blade laid a few feet from the formation, he must have flung it forward when he was tackled. “I see it..”

“STOP!” yelled a voice.

It was Scar, and he was not happy. He marched to the formation and stood in front of Wigyur, who still had no sword in hand. “Where is your sword?” he growled.

Wigyur sarcastically pointed at the sword that laid on the ground behind Scar. Yet, Scar did not find anything amusing. “Why isn’t it in your hand?”

“Because I got fucking tackled, why else?!” Wigyur yelled out.

A leathery glove reached up and slapped Wigyur across the face, so violently his body contorted to the side. “You will watch your tone when speaking with me,” Scar threatened.

Wigyur didn’t move a hand to his cheek nor did he reply. He just simply turned his face back around to stare at Scar and nodded.

“Good. As for the rest of you, consider this training to be over. The attackers win.” Scar spoke in an uninterested tone. He walked back to the Citadel to cool off.

The attackers all cheered amongst one another. Pumping their fists into the air or hugging each other, it was always a relief to not have to train more. However, team Valdya and team Astone were less than thrilled. Already missing a day of sleep and now having to do extra training was enough to break even the strongest amongst them.

“Tomorrow morning, we start our training in archery, until then the attacker team, rest well. You have earned it,” Khalia interrupted the celebration to say. “Defender team, you will be staying here on the mustering field, with me.”

Wigyur could feel the angry glares coming from his team, but not everyone was angry with him. Akaro nudged his shoulder to get his attention. “Its alright man, it’s not your fault, it could have happened to anyone,” he assured Wigyur.

“It is his goddamn fault, we could have held that attack,” Gregorei grunted in annoyance.

“You watch your damned mouth, Gregorei,” Arneth butted in.

“Or what?” Gregorei tightened his hands into a fist

“You threatening me?” Arneth snarled out, getting in Gregorei’s face.

“Guys, guys! Come on, we can’t operate better as a team if we are just at each other's throats!” Edalia shouted over the two. “We gave it a good try.”

Iris was silent on the matter, in fact she was silent most of the time since the Finchfur fiasco. The only person she ever really spoke to was Edalia in nights the both of them couldn’t fall asleep right away. She just wanted this horrible training to be over with so she never had to deal with them ever again.

While the team bickered, Wigyur couldn’t help but hear Greogrei’s voice in his head looping into a repeat.

It is his goddamn fault, it is his goddamn fault, it is his goddamn fault, it is his goddamn fault, it is his goddamn fault. Over and over again. He was ashamed, this was the third time he fucked up, and this time he brought everyone down with him. No matter how much Akaro tried to make him feel better, in his heart he knew it was his fault.

“Alright, you all done arguing?” Khalia asked from the sideline. She didn’t involve herself, feeling it was up to them to resolve their own issues, even if it could become violent.

The entire team turned their attention to Khalia as she spoke up. She was standing quietly with her arms crossed, waiting for silence. “Oh good, you’re all done,” Khalia said in a sarcastically soft voice. “Now go and run laps around the field until I say stop,” Khalia grinned from ear to ear, pointing at the other end of the field.

With a heavy groan the team protested, but one by one the tired initiates ran down the field.

There were still seven more weeks until graduation.