4. Four

Four

Sweat dripped down my forehead as I led the students through a series of grappling technical exercises. Our limbs tangled and twisted together as we practiced new ways to take down our opponents without weapons.

The air was thick with concentration and determination as we worked for the next couple of hours. The students began to tire, their muscles trembling with exhaustion as Ata yelled out for them to push through the pain. Beads of grit formed on their brows as they continued to battle against the strain on their limbs, their eyes locked on me for guidance.

Finally, Ata raised her hand, signaling the end of the grueling session and the students let out a collective groan, collapsing onto the stone floor. As I looked around, I could see the fire in their eyes, the same determination that Ata and I had when we first started our own training. We were just novices then, barely able to lift our own weight. Now, we could take down even the most skilled warriors that this academy produced.

Asrai had taken us under her wing. She had seen something in us that we didn’t know was there—a fire, a rage, a potential for greatness—and she was determined to bring it out.

“You know, you could have gone easy on me seeing as I have quite a long trip to make tonight,” I said, groaning as Ata scoffed.

“Going soft on you now won’t help.”

I grabbed her hand, yanking her down and laughing as she tumbled to the ground next to me. “You really are just like her.”

“And?” Ata said as she raised a brow. “She taught me well.”

I shook my head as I stared up at the ceiling I had become so familiar with over the years. “I guess I will find out soon enough if I have what it takes to make it out there.”

Ata rolled onto her back beside me, her hand finding mine and squeezing it tight. “You do,” she said, her voice quiet.

Tears welled up in my eyes, rolling down my cheeks as we laid in the silence. I lifted a shaky hand to brush them away, leaving wet trails on my cheeks. This was our spot—where we would spend countless hours making plans and dreaming of this day.

Ata’s grip tightened on my hand as she saw the tears. She had never been good at verbalizing or expressing her emotions; she saw them as unnecessary feelings that only worked to cloud logical thoughts and judgment. But she had always been there for me when I needed her most.

“A house by a stream, with a dog and a porch where we can sit in the mornings, watching the sunrise,” Ata said, her voice soft as it cut through the quiet.

“What?” My brows pulled together as I turned my head to look at her. She smiled at the vaulted canopy above us.

“That’s the house I want to live in, when I get to Locdragoon.”

I chuckled, picturing her futile attempts at pushing away a persistent pup that trailed closely behind her every move. “I’m sure that will be so easy to find,” I deadpanned.

“I guess if you can’t find it, you’ll be busy building it until I can be there with you.” As she turned her head toward me, I noticed the faint glimmer of tears in her eyes as they locked onto mine. A small, sad smile tugged at the corners of her lips and I knew what she was trying to convey: reassurance that we would be reunited soon, that we would make it through this separation.

Her hand reached out and gently wiped away the tears still streaming from my own eyes as I took a deep breath, trying to release the fear that I wouldn’t see her again.

“Cin! Ata!” Ardan’s voice reverberated through the empty training room. We jolted upright, snapping our heads toward the doorway where he stood trying to catch his breath.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, my heart racing as we both scrambled to our feet and rushed towards him.

“What’s going on?” Ata demanded.

“Wren needs us in his office, immediately,” Ardan said, turning on his heel and racing back up the stairs to the staff offices. “Something is going on. He needs all of us there,” he added over his shoulder, his voice strained. Ata and I exchanged worried glances before bolting after him, our feet pounding against the worn stone floor.

A chill ran down my spine. Wren had never called us to his office.

We sprinted down corridors. Narrowly avoiding collisions with students and professors as we made our way to his office. Hauling ourselves up ten flights of stairs, we finally arrived at the door, panting and wheezing as we barged in.

It was a grand room with floor-to-ceiling glass windows facing Rahval and ornate furniture. Taft was already inside, pacing back and forth. Wren sat behind a desk that was piled with papers and maps whose pictures and words swirled like black ink clouds across the pages, altering our view of any information deemed classified by the War Council.

Except for one.

The one sitting right in front of Wren.

Wren looked up at us as we stumbled in, a grave expression chiseled into his face.

“What the hell is happening?” I gasped, my heart pounding in my chest. No one spoke as all eyes turned to Wren.

He rose slowly from his chair, each fist pressed firmly against the oval marble desk, his knuckles turning white from the pressure as he took a deep breath and spoke through gritted teeth.

“Within the hour, Redelvtum will be under attack.”