Song of the Stars
Chapter III
"Dawn training, breakfast, fifteen minute break, then more training," Corryn recited between bites of sausage. Sunlight, pure and golden, spilled over the dining hall, reflected on the polished mahogany furniture and the students' sweaty heads. The windows looked out toward delicate firs, sturdy oaks, and a lavender sky clouded with fog. Corryn's sharp eyes were fixed on her window, but her thoughts were obviously elsewhere.
Dark-haired Trizzin Stormstrider swatted at her as if she were a persistent fly. "Come on Corr. You say that every week," he groaned, brown eyes impatient. "Our life might be hard, but it isn't nearly that repetitive."
"Yes it is," Ylanda Silverwind insisted, gray eyes flashing in her narrow, freckled face.
The black-haired, brown-eyed boy beside her snorted into his porridge. "Whatever you say, Nameless One," he drawled.
"Shut up, Ilasim Desertson," Yla muttered. "I may have the same name as your little Bazhir demon, but that does not give you the right to treat me as such."
"Little indeed," the tribesmen hissed rebelliously.
"I thought we were discussing Corryn's pessimism," Trizzin remarked, eyebrows raised.
Leianna, long used to the early morning breakfast banter, was plainly not listening. "I wondering if we're using the swords today," she commented softly.
"Hmm?" Corryn turned from the window to regard her friend curiously. "Oh, fencing. I don't know. Why?"
"Can you blame me? It's the only thing I'm any good at," the smaller girl girl replied absently, swirling wooden chopsticks through her neglected soup.
Hakuin Seastone sat down next to her, shaking his head. "No. We're doing glaives today. Again." He glanced sideways at her, dark eyes amused. "Are you really as terrible as you say?"
Leianna shook her head, still toying with her food. "It's all very well for you if you're from the Yamani Isles! And no, I'm not terrible, precisely, but I'm certainly not spectacular. I'm just... mediocre." I hate being mediocre, Leianna thought, but I'm resigned to it by now.
"Perfectionist," Hakuin scoffed, wolfing down his bread in the minute before the students were dismissed.
"So true," Corryn muttered absently, her eyes slightly unfocused. She thrust her mathematics work into a rough bag and slung it over one shoulder, making her way out of the dining hall. One by one, the shen followed her, leaving Leianna staring into a bowl of cold soup.
For once, she didn't mind her solitude. Because despite everything, despite her inadequacies, she felt a sense of beginning.
Leianna twirled her glaive pointlessly before launching into another pattern dance. She felt feeble and lightheaded as the weapon's scintillating blade flashed in the sun, blinding her with ripples of silver and aquamarine. Point. Jab. Her attacks hit with unwavering accuracy and acceptable strength, but they were always a moment too slow.
Always, her mind sighed, Always. And a moment is the difference between life and death.
"Stop!" Eda Bell, the Shang Wildcat, held up her weathered hand, commanding the shen to halt. They obeyed instantly, standing at attention with their glaives erect.
"Shen Starsong," the Wildcat's voice was dry and emotionless, her keen sky-blue eyes unreadable. "Come here."
Leianna walked forward with a mixed feeling of curiosity and dread.
"Your attacks are graceful enough and quite precise, but they lack both strength and speed," the Wildcat explained. "Use your shoulders and balance yourself. Pay attention to the alignment of your body with the glaive."
The girl nodded silently and stepped back into the line of shen, cheeks scarlet with humiliation.
So much for a new beginning...
Disclaimer: All familiar characters, locations, concepts, etc. belong to Tamora Pierce. The plot, as well any of the above that are unrecognizable as mine.