After several hours of instruction and demonstration, Artemus finally allowed Garrett to retrieve his training sword from the courtyard table. The child found sparring difficult at first; after all, this was his first time running around with anything heavier than a coin purse in tow. Even a lightweight training blade was heavy, and extremely off-putting for him.

Garrett was used to fighting others with his fists, when the need arose-not a taffing weapon!

For the first half of this training session, the boy was awkward and highly agitated. It didn't help that Artemus had roused the lad from his bed an hour before dawn to properly wash and dress. Garrett had been filthy when he'd found him the day before after all-the stench coming off the child's tattered rags so pungent, that the Keeper was certain he must have fallen into the sewer at some point.

But Artemus was immensely encouraging, and eventually, Garrett had satisfactorily calmed himself and reluctantly committed to this next segment of his training.
That had been hours ago. Now, it was nearly noon.

"Good work, young Garrett," Artemus praised in a solemn tone. "Now, let's get you in the ring with a live opponent."

The dark-eyed boy jerked upright, staring at his new mentor as though the man were truly insane.

"What?! You want me to fight someone with this thing?!" The lad's mouth was gaping open in disbelief by this point.
"Of course, you aren't trying to actually kill one another." Artemus reminded with a gracious chuckle. "This is merely a test of your abilities, Garrett." Bear that in mind, when you meet Clarissa."
"Clarissa?"

Before the boy had time to fully register his profound disbelief with the situation at hand, a voice called out from behind him.
"Keeper Artemus? We are ready to assist in the matter of which you spoke of last night."
"Ah, Keeper Remon," Artemus greeted with a solemn nod, "we have been expecting you."

Intrigued, Garrett spun around and practically bumped headlong into a girl about his age. Her hair was strawberry blonde, and there were tiny freckles decorating the bridge of her nose.

"Hey! Watch where you're going!" Garrett hollered, his instincts from life on the streets still defensive, and heavily weighted towards survival. The girl blinked, before the slightest inkling of a smirk began to form upon her face.

"You're the one who ran into me." She laughed, causing Garrett to pull back in surprise.

She was right, after all, and somewhere deep down, the arrogant child knew that. Flustered, he looked up to see Artemus and Remon staring down at him, as if he were a pup who'd just soiled all over the new rug. Garrett felt as his face began to redden in embarrassment at their accusing stares.

"So, this is the boy you told me about last night?" Remon inquired, his eyes narrowing.
"Yes, this is Garrett." Keeper Artemus confirmed, clapping his palm firmly around the lad's shoulder.

Garrett stiffed, his posture straighter than it had probably ever been, due to the simple act of surprise. The girl in front of him, suddenly began giggling again, although Garrett was unsure just what she found so hilarious this time.

"Hmmm. Well, far be it from me to judge the lad's abilities without first seeing how he performs," Keeper Remon eyed his own student. Her stance was one of determination, and an eagerness to please her mentor. "But are you certain that he can keep up with my Clarissa?"

"We shall soon discover the answer." Artemus's grey eyes narrowed.

A strange gentleness began to fill him. A sensation that was previously unfelt by the Keeper, and he welcomed it's warmness. He'd only been this boy's mentor for half a day, yet, already there was an unmistakable urge to teach and better this youth. To press him further, to mold the discarded orphan like soft clay. Why this was, he couldn't recognize; but he had a convincing theory.

Artemus had heard the stories-of the so-called bonds that were often forged between Keeper and apprentice. Connections that imbued the nurturing love of parenthood with the pride and persistence of any teacher. Such bonds were shunned and ill-spoken of within the compound-if they were spoken of at all.
After all, such a deep-rooted entanglement with anyone-be they Keeper or no-was a sign of imbalance; which often led to lapses in judgement or peril. However, there was no denying that this connection did occur. And perhaps, it was even somewhat unavoidable.

Artemus began to wonder if perhaps instructing Garrett would also offer it's fair share of instruction for himself as well. Years from now, the Keeper would laugh at just how much of an horrendous understatement this truly was.

"On your word, Artemus." Keeper Remon urged.
"Yes. Garrett, are you ready to begin your next test?"
"Ready as I'll ever be..." The boy scoffed, shuffling his feet. He could see Clarissa staring at him out the corner of his eye-and she was still smiling. Her cheerful and downright teasing demeanor was starting to irk him.

The two youths faced each other in the center of the arena. Remon retrieved an extra sword from the table, and handed it off to his charge. She took the blade with an eager, yet concentrated grasp. Her steel-grey eyes never left the ragamuffin street brat before her.

In that instant, something within her had changed. The taunting smirk of a playful schoolgirl, was now replaced by a disciplined, and downright menacing confrontation. And Garrett, survival-hardened orphan that he was, found himself just the slightest bit intimidated.

Sensing his unease, Artemus offered reassurance.

"Remember what I taught you this morning, and you should have no trouble with her, Garrett."
"Clarissa. Do not allow the boy to overtake you with ease, but keep in mind that this is still a test. Temper your abilities accordingly." Keeper Remon instructed his own apprentice.
"Yes, Keeper." The girl responded, though she was still glaring at Garrett.
"Begin!"

A surge of unrest flooded through him, as Garrett heard Artemus declare the start of the test. Before he had time to react, Clarissa rammed him with the flat end of her blade, sending him crashing to the cobblestone.

"Ha! Is that all you've got?" She jeered.
"Clarissa!" Keeper Remon snapped, reminding the girl of the strict manners expected of all novices. She lowered her head with a shameful sigh, the triumph of her blow diminished by her mentor's stinging prompt.

"Yes Keeper..." The girl muttered, crestfallen.
"Garrett, on your feet!" Artemus demanded, though his tone was far more level and instructive than Remon's.

The boy did as he was told, brushing some grass from his tawny trousers in the process.

"You need to concentrate, young Garrett. Do not allow her to overwhelm you."

Garrett leered over his shoulder at his aging mentor. With a girl like Clarissa, that was easier said than done.

Against his will, the blade in his hand began to tremble ever so slightly. His opponent came at him again, but this time, Garrett was ready for her dirty tricks. The boy gulped down his nerves and tried to face his opponent with determination.

CLLLLLIIINNKK!

Their blunted blades met with a brilliant flicker of silver. Garrett grunted against the girl's unexpected strength, as Clarissa continued to knock him backwards again. Their eyes clashed in a manner similar to their weapons, neither child giving an inch. Suddenly, a newfound zest enraptured Garrett. This was his meal ticket! If he failed even one of these sage's precious test, he'd end up right back on the cold streets. The waif's eyes burned with fervor as he glared into those of his opponent, their blades still interlocked.

Who was she, to take that away from him?

Using the inch or two in height that he had on her as leverage, Garrett began to press down against her weapon. Clarissa gasped and pressed back, holding the swords hilt tightly. Garrett's hazel eyes gleamed with fortitude as he continued to press down against her blade as hard as his frail arms would allow.

After several exhausting minutes, Clarissa's arm gave way, and her sword scuttled across the courtyard gravel. Flabbergasted, she looked back at the boy, who was now panting with utmost exhaustion upon winning.

It's over...I did it...I beat that dot-nosed girl... Garrett panted.

"That's enough. You did very well, Garrett." Artemus praised, impressed by the way his charge had strategically used his height advantage to win the duel.

"Clarissa..." Keeper Remon approached the girl, a look of fulfillment upon his wrinkled face. "You did quite well today. Let us return to the dormitories."

"Thank you, Keeper." She managed in a low voice, obviously ashamed to have lost to a neophyte like Garrett. Keeper Remon glanced over at Artemus, and gave his old friend a small, but warm smile.

"It seems I was correct to have withheld my judgement towards your new ward, Artemus. Truth be told, he is a very capable child."

Keeper Artemus said nothing, choosing instead to return Remon's rare smile with one of his own.

He thought so too.

Artemus watched as Garrett steadied the blade in his hand, inevitably taking notice of the teasing smirk he gave Clarissa as she exited the courtyard with her mentor. The girl briskly stuck out her tongue at him, making sure that Remon wasn't looking.

Indeed, he was a very capable child. However, this was still going to be a difficult task.

***********************************************

Tucked away in the midday shadows of the courtyard, two Keepers continued their strict critique of Artemus and his new charge. One was a woman around thirty, with long hair so blonde, that it was nearly white. The other, was a bearded man older by about half a decade or so. Through sips of bitter tea and orange scones, the twosome conversed between themselves. The subject? Dear Artemus-a man patient and wise beyond his years-and the headstrong brat he had taken under his wing.

"So that's the child Artemus chose to mentor? Ten years of waiting, and that's the best he could find?" Keeper Orland chirped, carefully blowing on his tea.
"Or perhaps, Artemus simply enjoys a challenge." Keeper Isolde countered.
"If that's the case, I'd say he'll be well tested."
"The boy has been within our midst for less than a week, Orland. That is far too soon for such assumptions. Besides, he defeated Remon's girl. That, is not an easy feat."
"The boy is quick-tempered and unruly. I doubt he'll last even a month before running away," Orland intercepted with a snort, "I sincerely hope that it does not come to that, however. I would prefer that First Keeper Xaiver deny him outright. That street urchin, is NOT Keeper material."
"Well, I suppose we shall just have to wait and see what happens." Isolde concluded, still watching the dark-haired boy and his mentor.

She had no desire to argue, preferring to sip her tea, and watch as the mid-day sun waned over the horizon.