My eyes flicked from Childe to Thoma, and finally, to the fighting ring where the rest of the class had completely gathered. Xiao was there too, and his cutting glare was aimed in our direction. Not wanting to get in trouble for slacking, I rolled my eyes and stepped between the two.

"Instructor Xiao is going to give us extra laps if we don't move," I sighed. "Whatever silent conversation you guys are having…well, stop it." Not bothering to see if either of them followed, I picked up my pace to join the others.

Xiao had already begun explaining today's lesson by the time I got within earshot. "It's important to know how to wield more than one weapon, to master a variety of fighting styles," he stated. "You never know when your reliable claymore might get flung into the sea, only to be left with a bow and arrow to defend yourself."

Today, he wanted us to practice with any weapon besides the one of our own personal mastery. That meant no sword for me, I suppose.

"Pair with a student wielding a different weapon than yourself," Xiao instructed further. "You will teach your partner how to properly handle your own weapon while learning from them about theirs. This is a test of effective teamwork. I am giving you the option to choose your partner—make sure you are compatible."

"I'd say we're pretty compatible." Childe leaned close to me. "Wouldn't you think?"

"Sure," I cast him a sideways glance, but Thoma wasn't here. "Where'd Thoma go?"

"Hm?" Childe made a show of looking around before shrugging. "Not sure."

I frowned, pressing on. "Childe…"

"You know the drill," Xiao announced. "Weapons are on the rack. Archers at the range. Begin."

Childe took my shoulders in his hands and walked me over to the weapon racks—away from the crowd of students I was scanning. "What'll it be, girlie? Want me to show you the ropes first, or do you want to take a stab at teaching me the ways of the blade?"

"Did you say something to scare him off?" I halted and pointed a finger.

"Who?"

"Thoma. Don't play dumb—though I'd understand if it wasn't an act."

"You wound me, Lumi." He held a dramatic hand to his chest before gesturing in the direction of the claymore users. "Relax. He's over there, you see? Getting friendly with Miss Pyrotechnics."

Sure enough, I managed to spot Thoma with another student, each of them with a practice claymore in hand. He seemed to be struggling with the weight, but the girl—Xinyan—had an encouraging smile.

"Here," Childe slid into my line of sight, holding up two weapons. "I got us swords."

"I'm up first, then?" I accepted the sword and we walked together to an empty sparring circle. "How much do you know about swordsmanship?"

Childe lifted his weapon and twirled the hilt at an angle, his feet separating to widen his stance. I observed him in silence. Everything about his form—from his balanced weight and careful positioning—held enough information to tell me what I needed to know.

"You're good," I surmised. "Quite skilled, even."

He grinned. "You haven't even seen me in action yet. Why not we give it a go?"

"This isn't a sparring day." I smiled despite my words. "But I guess I could enlighten you."

Walking over to my end of the sparring circle, I kept my eyes trained on his. After getting into position, I held my sword to the side, ready to launch at a moment's notice.

Childe winked and took off in my direction with a swift sprint. I met him in the middle, the dull thunk of our wooden blades was hard and sound. He'd come to spar with full energy, unyielding and on the offense.

"Your left is open." He cut at my leg, missing me by just a hair as I bounced backward.

"Low blow," I grunted and charged forward. "You know I have a freshly bandaged wound."

He laughed and easily dodged my attacks. "You'll find no mercy from me, girlie."

Childe raised his blade, and I anticipated the incoming downward attack, holding my sword horizontally to parry his strike. Our weapons cracked against each other, and I faltered slightly as my wrist reacted with a stabbing wave of heat.

Ah, right. The cicin attack.

I cringed inwardly, second-guessing my hearty acceptance to spar. Perhaps it would have been best to save this for another day.

Childe swooped at my crippled ankle, and I slid away before more damage could be done. "Not bad…not bad at all!"

He was quick.

"Hah!" Another attack came straight for my sternum—I ducked and went for his legs. The sudden increase in downward force reawoke the flare in my leg. This time, I had no power to stop my knee from buckling and slamming into the ground.

I grimaced on impact but still had enough sense to swivel around and raise my sword to block another blow from above. He was getting predictable.

Predictable or not, he was strong and had the advantage of gravity. Childe's sword came crashing down on mine, and I could barely put up an effective resistance before my weapon was knocked away, clattering to the ground.

"Amateur mistake," Childe pointed the tip of his sword at my neck. "Though, I can't say I didn't expect this outcome."

I grit my teeth and propped up a knee to stand, but the edges of my vision blurred as a fresh wave of pain came over me.

The threatening sword was suddenly replaced by a hand, and I accepted it with reluctance. Childe hauled me up, still sporting that same cheeky smirk from the very start of the match.

"Maybe I should be the one giving you pointers." He picked up my sword and returned it to me. "Tip number one: know your limits."

"I know my limits."

"Do you?" Childe reached over to grab my right arm. "What happened here?"

"Gliding accident," I huffed. "Same for my ankle."

He pulled in closer, fingers tenderly skimming the area where Cicin's icy attack had struck me earlier. There wasn't much visible to the eye besides a pinkish undertone in the affected area, but that didn't escape Childe.

"This looks like a burn," he murmured. "Were you fighting with someone else before me? I thought that was supposed to be our thing." Despite his teasing words, Childe's tone was anything but. "A sprained ankle from falling, that I can believe. But this? I see you've already made a few enemies."

"I can handle them." I pulled my wrist from his hold.

"Who was it?"

"No one I can't take care of myself," I insisted. "Have you ever heard of the Twin Mages? They're notorious for being the worst."

"Calculated attacks and planned sabotage," Childe hummed. "Yes, I am familiar with quite a few students who might try something like that. As for me, I prefer a more…direct method to reach what I desire."

"And what is it that you desire?" I went along.

"Unpredictable change, unprecedented power, the heat of battle, and to come out as the winner of it all…amongst other things." His gaze lingered on my face before honing back on my wrist.

"They're aligned with Signora, you know," I added. "Cicin says she has plans for you. Maybe you should be careful."

Childe's eyes widened before he burst into laughter. Clutching his belly, he slapped at his knee a few times before calming down enough to say, "Signora? Yes, I am well aware of who she is."

I narrowed my eyes at his casual response. "You don't seem too concerned."

"And why would I be?" He wiped away a tear. "We both come from the same country, my homeland of Snezhnaya. She and I are in the same program partnered with the Academy—call us exchange students, if you will."

"Okay, what does Signora want from you so badly that she feels the need to send her subordinates after me?" I frowned. "You lot seemed to be obsessed with power."

"Only because of what one can gain from it." Childe aimlessly twirled his sword. "As I told you before, I have a desire for conquest. Signora's wishes are far more devious."

"You're quite devious, yourself." I pointed my sword at him accusingly.

"Call me chaotic, unhinged, immoral." He lightly knocked my blade to the side. "But I only yearn out of personal gain. Signora is quite a sinister narcissist, and I know not of what she schemes in secret, nor of how it has any connection to me. Her goals only hold importance when they interfere with mine."

"So, that's all you live for, then? World domination?"

"Of course, not." He shook his head. "How could you think me so heartless? I love ice fishing."

"Ice fishing?"

"Oh yes, it's my favorite hobby." He nodded in earnest. "A wonderful opportunity to train, both physically and mentally. You should join me, sometime."

Who would have guessed that the infamous Tartaglia—known for causing trouble to both faculty and students alike, constantly arming himself with promises of battle and conflict—would be into ice fishing?

"What's with that look on your face?"

"I—nevermind," I shook my head and stepped away. "We should go to the archery range. You can show off your fancy skills there."

"All of my skills are fancy," he followed. "Do you really think I'm going to guide you through archery with your wrist like that?"

My steps faltered, dammit he was right. "What else would you suggest, then? This is the task Instructor Xiao gave us."

Childe scoffed. "Instructor Xiao's orders can be taken lightly."

"Not by me," I disagreed. "Not if I want to get stronger. We've all seen him in action enough to acknowledge that he know's what he's talking about."

"Fine then," Childe shrugged and we carried on to the archery range. "If you wish to be so reckless with your health, who am I but a deeply concerned friend to have any say in it?"

I refused to fall for him guilting me. Though it was true that any further strenuous activity would only make my wrist worse, at least my ankle could catch a break. Besides, as long as I pull the string with my left arm, my right won't be nearly as afflicted.

"If you ever find yourself in a pinch, compromise," Xiao had once said. "Survivors do not make it out alive by backing down."

Of course, this was far a less dire situation than life or death, but I prefer to think that the same concept applied. I selected a bow from the rack befitting for my modifications.

"Have you practiced archery before?" Childe stepped beside me.

"Once," I examined the weapon. "I wasn't a fan. Melee fighting is more my style."

"Same here. I knew we were compatible."

"Don't you use a bow?"

"I do."

"Then, why…?"

"Oh, Lumi," Childe sighed and placed a hand on my shoulder. "You still have so much to learn in regard to overcoming your own faults. This bow here? I am least adept with. Give me a sword, polearm, even a claymore—total knockout. The challenge of working with weakness is part of the fun."

"You're not making any sense," I deadpanned. "Doesn't it hinder you?"

He leaned in to whisper, "Sometimes, I throw my arrows."

Childe really was something else.

"You ready?" he gestured for me to lift the bow and I complied.

Reaching into the nearby quiver for an arrow, I notched it onto the string and inhaled with control as I pulled back.

"Preserving your right arm," Childe noted. "I can see what you're trying to do, but that'll make your aim difficult."

"Working with weakness is part of the fun," I half shrugged. "Someone told me that, once."

Childe laughed and settled his hand on the elbow I had drawn back, lowering it. "He sounds highly intelligent. Careful not to keep this arm so straight." He slightly pushed out my right elbow. "You don't want to get string burn."

After a few more adjustments—parallel feet, relaxed bow grip, hips straight—my form was steady enough to aim the arrow at the makeshift hilichurl target in the distance.

"One more thing," Childe reached to my left hand, shifting it lower. "Keep the string closer to your mouth than your nose. Use your lips as an anchor. Okay, now just breathe and release."

Breathe…release.