It was long and it was complicated, the history they shared, it was dark and twisting and tied them together more then it split them apart. The fledgling had been adamant about her disdain for the youngling, making it known to anyone who knew her, Akeelah was no friend. She knew of his passed, of mistakes he lived with everyday, the things that haunted his mind. She knew most of it all.

And others started to catch on, those in his class, becoming suspicious and jealous that this runt of a trainee got to retire at the end of the night to the Pavilion while the rest of them had to go to the barracks where the rest of the trainees stayed. When the instructors back was turned or otherwise distracted, they too made their displeasures known. Smacking him in the shins with their wooden swords or over the head when they turned. The youngling just took it all, biting his tongue and turning the other cheek, as he had been told. Most were kind enough while others weren't and it was just the way it was, there was one that at least liked him and that was more then some got themselves.

But that didn't mean there weren't times where he very nearly met the end of his rope, especially on those days where they were being particularly rough or particularly hard with their throws, that he didn't just want to turn around and throw it back just as good as he gained. But he was still on thin ice, despite having helped Nisroc come to an understanding on the matter at hand, he was still walking lightly due to past behaviors. He wasn't supposed to lash back, just turn the other cheek, and if it became worse then he was to report it immediately. But reporting it would make it worse because then they'd get mad at him even more and they'd come after him harder because he would have gotten them in trouble with Nisroc and no one wanted to be in trouble with Nisroc.

He was about to throw it all into the wind, as he was hit particularly hard between the shoulders and lost his footing to find himself sprawled in the rough dirt. Paul turned in time to see the wooden sword raise high over Ezariels head, preparing for the blow of all blows, when another sword swung out of no where. It came from over his head, casting a quick shadow, and smacked harshly into the other's face, there was a crunch and a yell of pain as he fell backwards. The commotion gained the attention of the rest of the class, their instructor calling out for them all to stand aside, and undoubtedly the attention of the Captain and Commander from across the field. But Paul only had eyes for his rescuer, staring in awed surprise, at the short frame of his number one enemy, the fledgling who announced her disliking of him openly without prompting. She stood there, breathing deeply, little shoulders heaving, and had swung the wooden sword above his head with such ferocity it had broken Ezariel's nose om impact. Akeelah was glaring down at the other boy with more venom then had ever been seen, eyes sharp and bright with burning anger, fingers curled tightly around the wrapped hilt of the wooden practice sword as she prepared to swing it again.

Paul stared at her. Ezariel stared at her. And Titus, who had just broken through the crowd of younglings, stared at her.

But Akeelah only continued to glare at Ezariel.

"Do it again!", her voice floated over the stunned silence, "I dare you to!" she waited until her opponent shook his head, clutching at his bleeding nose, and then she turned to the other. Paul stared at the hand that was held out for him to take, he stared for a moment and she huffed impatiently, before taking it for the aid of getting back to his feet. She stood just under his shoulder, but felt pride bubbling in his belly at the knowledge that someone had seen, someone had cared enough to see (and that wasn't to say that Nisroc probably hadn't but he wasn't one to get involved until it was asked of him) and stop it from happening again. Akeelah bent and reached for his own sword, and he took it without word, everyone just staring at them and it was starting to become quite unsettling.

"I don't like you.", she looked up at him with her bright blue eyes "But I don't like him more."

"I don't like you either." Paul shook his head in return, curling his fingers around the hilt of his own sword "Don't like him too."

"Good. Wanna be friends?"

"Sure. We can be friends."

And they shook on it just as Michael and Nisroc managed to get through the gathered classes.