Chapter Fourteen: Ready or Not

WHIT

We stood in a medium-sized courtyard by an enormous sculpture of a winged horse made out of highly polished plates of stainless steel.

I ran a hand through my untidy brown hair, something I did every time when I was thinking hard, and said, "Wisty and I counted the numbers yesterday after Janine made the battle announcement in the square. We've got seven thousand magicians in total, excluding us and those in the council."

"It was way more than I expected," said Wisty to Anna and Elsa. "I can't believe so many people agreed to fight for you!"

"Only because you encouraged them," said Anna.

"The majority of our army consists of teenagers aged sixteen and above," Wisty informed. "There are adults in it too, but very few."

"How come?" inquired Elsa.

Wisty shrugged. "Well, for some reason the younger ones have always been stronger and much more adept at using their magical ability, which makes them a lot more useful in this case than their parents."

"The only known powerful adult in this City was The One," I told them.

Anna's forehead was creased into an interesting frown. "Right," she said.

"Elsa, how large is Hans's army?" I asked.

Elsa answered, "Judging by what I saw of them that night: about eight thousand strong. "Don't worry," she hurried on at the downhearted look on my face, "Numbers isn't the key to winning a battle. Strategy is."

Anna clapped her hands cheerfully. "Let's decide on what kind of armour each of us will be using, shall we?" She was feeling so giddy about all of this that she was standing on the balls of her feet. "Byron and Emmet, you two would do well with a war hammer and a shield."

They looked at each other, and then nodded in agreement.

"Ross, a great axe would suit you."

"You've just read my mind," beamed Ross. "I've always dreamed of holding one someday. Used to play with toy versions of them all the time when I was little."

"Except this time, you're gonna use it rather than hold it," smiled Anna. She turned away and said, "Whit."

"Hmm…?" I snapped my full attentiveness to her.

"A handsome guy like you, you'd look very fitting with a shield and a sword." She gave me a friendly wink. My cheeks heated up at her casual address of me as a 'handsome guy,' but she quickly whipped around to face Pearce and did not notice. "And you as well, Pearce."

Pearce inclined his head at her ceremoniously.

Anna bounced close up in front of him and said, "When we were in the Shadowland, you told me that you wanted me to teach you sword fighting. Now you'll get your wish."

Pearce smiled his charming smile.

"What about us?" Wisty motioned to herself and Janine.

"I'm just getting to that. I suppose…" Anna put her thumb and forefinger beneath her chin in thought, and then finished, "…that a bow and a quiver of arrows for each of you would be brilliant."

"Seven thousand people in total…" Elsa repeated, scowling at the ground and pacing about. I could tell that the wheels in her head were spinning madly. Then she divulged, "We will split them into two separate specialities. Six thousand of them will be swordsmen, and the remaining one thousand will be archers." She looked up at us, "Everyone OK with that so far?"

Wisty and I, along with the rest of our friends, nodded. Pearce gave her a thumbs-up.

Byron raised his hand, as if he was a student sitting in class, and asked, "Does that mean that Emmet and I will be the only ones using a war hammer? And Ross his great axe?"

"It does," said Anna.

"Cool." Byron nudged Emmet goofily, reminding me of the personality he had back in the old days at school which I had been so incredibly annoyed with, and whispered in his ear, "Guess that makes us the special ones."

"Where did you say training will be taking place again?" Elsa asked me.

I told her, "In the barracks."

Elsa raised her voice. "All right, listen up. Here's the plan. Anna is going to be responsible for teaching sword fighting as well as fighting with war hammers and great axes, while I am going to be responsible for teaching the archers how to use a bow and arrows." She snapped her fingers. "Moving on to the actual training: this is how it's gonna go. We will break people down into groups of twenties. Anna will select twenty recruits and teach them all the techniques she knows about sword fighting for three weeks. That's lesson number one. Then, these twenty people who are trained will each teach their individual recruits, also made up of a group of twenty, for three weeks. That's lesson number two. After these new groups have become fully qualified as soldiers, each of them will teach another group of twenty new recruits for three weeks, and so on—lesson numbers three, four, five, etc—until all seven thousand magicians are trained."

I glanced at Wisty and the rest of my friends. They were all focusing intensely on Elsa and scowling.

"This might sound like it's going to last for long time, but it isn't," Elsa went on. "We won't need more than three goes, or lessons, to train seven thousand people." She took on a practical tone. "Just take the number 20. If you times it by 20 it gives you 400. Multiply by 20 again and you get 8000, and we have 7000 swordsmen, so you see how you can work it out. This means that having a maximum training time of nine weeks in total will be quite sufficient."

Byron looked impressed. "You actually did the maths for that?"

Elsa laced her fingers together in front of her and said, "Yes, Byron, I did." She continued, "I'll conduct the same method for archers, and since there are only a thousand of them, it will take a lot less time for them to be trained."

I questioned, "What happens to the groups of twenty people after they've taught what they've learned to their new recruits?"

"They continue practicing the fighting techniques they've acquired," said Elsa.

I nodded.

"Anna and I will also be supervising the training sessions regularly to ensure nobody is teaching moves that are wrong or even slightly different from what we've taught them," Elsa added. "This way, everybody will remain on the right track."

Anna piped up, "Oh, and Byron, Emmet, Ross, I know I'll be very busy in the first three weeks teaching the army, but after I'm done I'll train you guys personally, since your weapons are different from everybody else's."

"That's fine," said Byron. "We'll be happy to wait."

"Make sure to remind me! 'Cause I've got a bad habit of forgetting things. Did you know that back in Arendelle—?"

"We will, Anna," Emmet assured quickly to prevent her from rambling. "We will."

Elsa looked around at everybody. "So…does that sound like a good plan?"

There was a moment of hesitation. Then Pearce said, "It's perfect."

"Great." Elsa sighed deeply in relief, as if she was expecting one of us to shout out to disagree. "We still have one more thing to sort out: armour." Her gaze swept the buildings at the edges of the courtyard. "Where do we get the armour from?"

An idea surfaced in my head just then, as quickly as a light bulb being switched on. It was what I would be proud enough to call a clever idea, but also kind of a mad one. "Um, there is a way," I said. "OK, this is going to sound a little awkward, but I'm thinking maybe we can get someone to sketch the armour for us on a piece of paper, and then I turn them into real armour with magic." Byron raised his eyebrows. I ignored him. "It's quicker than making them."

To my surprise, Wisty was beaming at me. "Are you kidding me, Whit?" she cried. "That's a wonderful idea! Why didn't I think of that? Besides, even if we could get people to make them, I doubt they'd know how."

"Who here is the best artist?" asked Pearce.

I was too ready for that question. I turned to my girlfriend. "Janine?" Her sage green eyes met mine. "You are very creative and one of the most talented artists I've ever known. Would you like to invent some armour designs for us?"

She smiled, "Of course. By the way, Ross is a really good artist too. Ross, would you mind helping me with the designs?"

Ross gave her a look that implied 'do you seriously think I'd miss out on an opportunity like this?' and said instantly, "Absolutely, no problem. I'm better at oil painting than at sketching, to be honest."

"Me too," said Janine.

"That's fine," I told them. "Have it your way."

Ross put his hands on his hips. "In fact, I'm beginning to put together a clear picture already." He tapped Janine gently with the back of his fingers. "Come on. If we start now, we can get at least two paintings done by next morning."

"We'll be in my apartment," Janine notified us.

They walked away chatting excitedly between them.

Anna announced to the rest of us, "Training begins tomorrow. Seven thirty a.m. in the barracks. Be there."

She left the courtyard with Elsa.

I slept early that evening, so when Monday morning came, I was pretty well rested and felt quite awake. I donned my best and favourite sportswear: they were flexible, so I could move around in them easily. Afterwards I had some breakfast, and then headed for the barracks. The buildings that made up the barracks weren't tall like most of the other constructions in the City. They had a wide, rectangular base and each comprised of six storeys. Every level was a colossal room with high ceilings, and had blocks of walls, a variety of platforms, and other structures that fit the trainers' needs. I knew this because I had been inside on several occasions. These places had been occupied by the N.O comrades for a long time. Ever since they were gone they had been empty, and now we were about to put them to good use. I spotted half a dozen young magicians entering one of the buildings and followed them inside.

The people were gathered around Anna in the middle of the room. Mostly they were wizards and witches from the council, but there were three adults there as well. I glimpsed a teenager standing in a straight-backed posture amongst the small crowd, with white-blonde hair and sour, pursed lips.

Huh, so Pearce was in our group too.

His clear, pale blue eyes caught mine. He gave me a dazzlingly anticipated smile. It couldn't be more obvious that he wanted to get his hands on me in training the first chance he got.

Everybody was dressed in the appropriate sports clothing, similar to mine, and so was Anna. She seemed more slender than usual without her black bodice, dark blue skirt and magenta cape. Her hair was tied back into a ponytail. The abrupt change in appearance almost transformed her into a new girl. She was pretty.

I wondered where Wisty and Elsa were. In a different building, probably. Emmet and Byron were free since for them training didn't start until another three weeks. Ross and Janine were busy painting canvases of suits of armour.

After waiting for a few more minutes for everybody to arrive, Anna led us to do some exercises to warm us up, which to me felt a bit like one of my P.E lessons in school a hundred years ago.

She decided it best for us to begin by practicing with wooden swords in the first week, as they were much lighter in weight and easier to manage. We each retrieved one and formed into neat rows. In order to leave plenty of room for a person to move without being hit by their neighbour, we stood a few metres apart from one another, but also in positions where each individual got a clear view of Anna. We started off with poses. There were a ton of different ones. We copied Anna's moves as she demonstrated them in front of us one by one. They became increasingly complicated as you went along. But then she led us through another go, and this time I was more familiar and was getting a better hang of them. Others were making more or less the same progress. After repeating the stances with her three more times, pretty much all of them had stuck in my head. As soon as Anna noticed the small improvement, she instructed us to repeat the moves again, but without her guidance. Instead she'd call out a number, and every time she did, we had to swing our sword, rotate our bodies, move our feet, and switch from the previous pose to the next one. She walked around the group and between the rows, observing us. We concentrated hard and learned fast. Throughout the process, she only had to make two corrections overall, which seemed to have satisfied her.

We practiced in pairs next, attacking our opponent and parrying their strikes. I paired up with an Asian boy my age. Anna also had someone to duel with. Although quite a lot of the moves Anna had shown us proved to be useful, most of the blows I landed on my challenger just came out naturally, and when I looked around, apparently I wasn't the only one with the talent. The longer we practiced, the more we began to develop our own strategies and defences, as well as combining them with those we were taught. My partner switched from time to time, I was thankful so far it had not been Pearce, and Anna made sure each of us had a chance to duel with her as well.

A boy's cry rang across the room. A few people turned to look. He was training with Anna and had accidentally tripped over himself.

Anna bent down beside him. "You OK?"

"Yeah, fine," he panted.

"You were focusing too intently on my sword, and not paying enough attention to where you step," Anna told him as he took her extended hand to push himself back up. "Always have your legs and feet wide apart when you move, never close to each other, or else you'll easily lose your balance and find yourself tripping over your own feet."

The boy nodded firmly before resuming his fighting stance.

To the rest of us, Anna called, "Remember, maintaining your balance is the key to winning a swordfight, and proper footing is the key to balance!"

And then she was involved in her duel once more.

My rival brought his wooden sword down upon me. I sidestepped him, causing me to snap back into focus. Had I done it a second later, the blow would've hit the side of my head. Half an hour later I was fighting a brunette boy in sky blue sports pants and Anna was going around the pairs, examining their techniques and helping them out when one of them was not doing a particular thing right. I successfully blocked three more strikes.

"You're keeping your sword about your mid-section, Whit, allowing you to respond fast to his attacks, and giving you many angles for your own, which is good."

I glanced sideways. I was so engaged in the duel that I hadn't noticed Anna watching us. All around me were the clacking of wood on wood. I exchanged a few more blows with my partner.

Clack, clack, dodge; clack, lean forward, strike! Clack, clack, clack, parry.

I was taking an advantage of the fight and my partner was gradually retreating backwards.

"You're keeping your eyes too much on Whit's blade, Jeff," commented Anna, studying my opponent. "It's a mistake that's becoming very common in this group. Watch less of his blade and more of his eyes! A man's intent is in his eyes!" She moved on to the pair on our right.

Jeff's gaze stayed on mine this time; every fifteen seconds or so it kept falling back to my sword, but at least he was trying, and I was glad he was learning.

It was half an hour past midday when the twenty of us broke up for lunch. We ate in a cafeteria across the street, chatting to each other about the morning's training. Anna pointed out areas of weaknesses she had seen earlier to two girls. Pearce sat alone by the window and stared at the cars passing outside. When we returned to the barracks we were allowed another half an hour of break, and then we got back to work.

In the afternoon Anna asked us to fetch a wooden shield from a large rack leaning against a wall. For demonstration, Anna picked a volunteer and invited him to attack her while she attempted to block the blows from his sword with her shield. We formed into pairs. Then she ordered us to have one person in each pair attack while the other practiced their shield defence.

An adult and some kids were appearing to be overly confident before we even began, and Anna said to them, "Don't get cocky about it. It's not as easy as it looks."

We spent the following two hours rehearsing this new tactic, switching the job of offence and defence between the pairs once in a while at Anna's command. Then we fought with both sword and shield.

By the time we were dismissed, which was at 7:30 in the evening, we were famished. I thanked Anna and rushed to my apartment to have dinner. Later I sat on a deck chair with my feet on a small coffee table, gazing at the colourfully lit City on my balcony and sipping herbal tea. What a day, I thought. I felt like I had learned more today than the five days of a week at school combined. It wasn't long before weariness took hold of me, and I slumped onto the soft mattress of my bed and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

For the next three days we went over new moves Anna taught us and reinforced the old ones. It was our determination, motivation and eagerness to help Anna and Elsa win the battle that drove us into working extremely hard. Yes, sometimes people had to request for a time-out due to jelly arms or legs, sore ankle, stiff fingers and muscle pains, but as soon as they recovered they returned to training straight away. There were neither excuses nor complaints, and not a single magician fell behind. Even though fighting unceasingly for long hours was difficult and demanding, we persevered and our efforts remained persistent. Of all the people in our group who were improving, Anna claimed that, apart from the three adults, who may not be as magically powerful as the kids but handled a sword better than all of them, it was me and Pearce who were making the most progress. I was pleased to hear the compliment, but I knew my swordsmanship was far from splendid, so I refused to let pride get the better of me and continued to work as hard as I had been doing previously.

And so was Pearce.

"Do not spin in a circle! Especially not in a duel," Anna warned a blonde girl in a black sports top Friday afternoon, after her opponent's sword hit her hard on the spine and she cried out in pain. "It might look all dramatic, cool and flashy, but it leaves your undefended back open to blows."

The girl took her advice.

Next morning Anna felt we had trained enough in pairs and arranged us into groups of threes and fours.

Anna explained, "In a battlefield you will not just be facing one enemy, but several of them at once. Therefore you have to be aware of the things happening all around you, not only what's in front of you."

This increased our challenge to a much higher level. Most of us were apprehensive about it, and I was not surprised. It was difficult enough to keep track of one opponent, let alone two or three simultaneously! Anna didn't have that much of a problem with it, however. Pearce, Jeff and I were in a group with her, and she told us to charge at her together. Anna swung, slashed, parried, blocked, dived, struck and leaped while we came at her with all we've got, and within ten minutes she had successfully thrown me backwards, disarmed Jeff, and knocked Pearce to his knees. Nevertheless, she was impressed with our effort and encouraged us to give it a few more goes, and despite the fact that she still managed to win each time, all three of us got a lot of practice out of it and received some very useful tips.

For the next few days we fought with sword and shield in groups of at least threes. This took me much longer to get used to than duelling, and as a consequence I ended up with bruises on my shoulders, legs and more of them on my back, but I was gradually getting the hang of it with each passing day.

As I was exiting the room that evening, Anna held me back. "Hey, I was wondering…do Ross and Janine have the armour ready yet?"

"The…? Oh! Damn it!" I said, slapping the heel of my palm to my sweat-matted forehead. "I totally forgot."

Anna giggled. "Don't worry. You're not the only one. Since we're a week and a half in of training and you guys are doing pretty well, I thought it's about time for you to work with your armour on, you know…"

"I'll go and check straight away." And then I dashed out of the room.

Witches and wizards were coming out of another building nearby. I detected my sister's flame red hair amongst them and shouted, "Wisty!"

She spun around, saw me and fell behind to let the rest of the people go on. "Wow, Whit," she said, her eyes travelling from my head to toe. "You look like you just ran a marathon. Training's pretty intense, huh?"

"Yeah," I said as I jogged toward her. "You look pretty red yourself. How's archery with Elsa going?"

"It was hard at the start. My fingers kept going numb after releasing the arrow so many times. But as the lessons continued, I felt they were going pretty good."

"Marvellous. Ross and Janine should be done with the paintings by now, don't you think?"

"They are. Otherwise Janine wouldn't have joined our group in training at the end of the first week. I haven't been in her apartment to see them, though."

"I'm on my way there now. I was just gonna get you to come with me."

Janine and Ross led Wisty and I up several flights of stairs to Janine's flat. It was one of my favourite places to visit because it had such a fancy, vintage feel to it. Rouge pink wallpaper, a wide crystal drum pendant light hanging from the ceiling, traditional bronze mini chandeliers and drawings by famous artists decorated the room. Bookshelves full of heavy tomes lined against a wall. An artificial paradise palm tree stood in one corner and an oriental bamboo in another. There was also a TV and a piano. Tubes of colours, paint brushes, wooden palettes, oil bottles, turpentine bottles, old rags and palette knives occupied every table. A few unopened oil painting sets, along with some other art equipment, lay on the sofas and even on the floor. Four easels stood in a row in one area, but they were empty.

"As you can judge from the state of the room, we have been very busy during the last week," said Janine.

"Definitely," remarked Wisty.

"This is the room I worked in. And that," she gestured to the room adjoining the one we were in, which was just as fully decorated, "is where Ross worked. We completed a total of eight oil paintings. Four of them were done by Ross and the other four by me."

Ross and Janine exchanged a nervous but excited look. "You go first," Ross told Janine in a hushed voice.

"Okay," she whispered.

There were four canvases leaning with their back to us against the wall. Janine picked one up, turned it over and set it upon one of the easels.

"Oh. My. God!" exclaimed Wisty at the same time as I said, "Holy cricket!"

We both gaped at the masterpiece in front of us. Its resemblance to a photograph was so close it was almost impossible to tell from a distance. It was a painting of a bow and a quiver of arrows. The wood of the recurve bow was a lighter shade of brown at the limbs and a darker shade at and near the grip. Beautiful, intricate patterns were carved into it in gold, winding and twisting elegantly around each other. Beside it was an elven brown leather quiver that emulated dark green leaves on a log. A tiny golden stud was visible on every leaf, making the quiver shine and sparkle. Within was a collection of arrows that were crafted from fine birch wood, with dark green, triangular-shaped fletching. A single arrow was displayed at the canvas's bottom so we could see its glittering broadhead, which was filed to a razor point.

Janine gestured at the painting and announced, "A recurve bow and a quiver of arrows for the archers."

Before Wisty and I could fully admire the fabulous artwork, Janine had fetched another canvas and placed it upon the second easel. "Here is their armour."

Wisty covered her mouth in astonishment.

This painting featured a model of a woman, the details of her face omitted, in white leather armour. The background was painted a dark blue to make the figure stand out. She wasn't wearing a helm. The head and shoulder armour comprised a gorget and a pauldron (which protected the shoulders and the upper back). The torso armour encompassed breastplate (its lower half covered with a plackart), fauld (serving to protect the abdomen), and tasset (hanging from the fauld to cover the thighs). The arm and leg armour consisted of rerebrace (to shield the upper arm), couter (guarding the elbows), vambrace (to shield the forearm), special archers' gauntlets, cuisse (for the thighs), poleyn (cup-shaped knee guards) equipped with fan plates, greaves, and sabaton (for the feet).

"I believe white would look good on the archers," Janine explained. "This is the armour I'll be wearing."

I was stunned by the designs.

Janine went on proudly, "Ross and I decided that you two," she pointed two fingers at me and Wisty, "along with Elsa and Pearce, should wear gold armour. So I also drew this." She lifted up a third canvas and put it on an easel.

The drawing was nearly identical to the previous one. The only difference was that the suit of leather armour the woman was wearing was gold rather than white.

"Wisty, it's for you and Elsa only." Janine smiled at my sister.

"Wow…" said Wisty, her gaze glued to the artwork.

"And lastly…" Janine retrieved the fourth canvas and set it upon the last easel, "Weapons for the swordsmen."

The sword in the painting had a fancy silver pommel and a hilt embellished with elaborate designs in many shades of blue. Faint blue patterns adorned the blade. Beside it was a wooden heater shield, bordered in light blue and gold. Its top edge curved downwards on either side and met at a sharp point in the middle. The coat of arms embellished on its surface was a golden crocus on a midnight blue field.

"The crest of Arendelle is a golden yellow crocus emblazoned on a split purple and green background," Janine was saying, "and I know that the colours on the shield aren't exactly right, but it matches well with the sword. Elsa and Anna should be fine with it."

After I had scrupulously examined the last painting, I turned to my friend Ross, who had been waiting patiently the whole time. "Ross, want to show us what you've got?"

"Right this way," Ross said. Like Janine, he was containing his excitement.

We followed him into the adjoining room.

Ross's artworks were also leaning against the wall with their back to us. Ross set his first canvas upon an easel. "Battle armour for the swordsmen, and for Byron, Emmet and me," he said.

The parts of the swordsmen's leather armour included everything the archers' armour had, except that they were silver, and that the man in the painting was wearing a silver helmet from the Arthurian Ages, as well as a shirt of chainmail behind the breastplate, both of which made from lightweight steel. A sword belt and scabbard were also depicted nearby. The helm featured a high peaked crown adorned with a brass spoke and a nasal guard. Cheek protectors hang down from the sides, providing defence to the face.

Ross told us, "I didn't choose to include a visor. It sort of reduces your visibility. I don't think you're used to looking at your surroundings behind it all the time."

He then displayed the second canvas and nodded at it, "Special version for you, Whit, and for Pearce."

All the armour parts, just like those in Janine's third drawing, were golden.

"Ingenious!" I remarked.

Ross mounted his next piece on an easel and announced, "This is Emmet and Byron's war hammer and shield…" He put up his final painting. "And this is my own great axe."

The design Emmet and Byron's shield took on was the same as what I just saw on Janine's painting, but its shape was rounded, like as a circle.

Overall, the weapons that Ross created were just as superb as those Janine came up with.

I looked at my friends. "I-I had never known…that I…" I was so blown away by their masterpieces I was finding it hard to utter coherent sentences. "I never knew how amazing you two are at art. Guys, this, this is absolutely incredible! It really is," I said sincerely.

Wisty hugged Ross and Janine and said, "Thank you so, so much!" Her eyes were moist with grateful tears.

Ross replied elatedly, "It is our pleasure, Allgoods. You are very welcome!"

"Wait till Anna and Elsa sees this," Wisty said to me, shaking her head.

"I know!"

We helped Janine and Ross gather their art equipment and clear the tables.

Janine said, "Right, so, now that Ross and I have done our bit, Whit, it's time for you to do yours."

The others retreated to one side to watch me.

I carefully approached the canvas presenting Byron and Emmet's shield and war hammer. I took a deep breath. Then, I slowly extended my arm and reached into the painting. Shining amber light ringed the place where my arm made contact with the canvas. I was surprised by how easily I had done it. It was as if the cotton and linen surface of the canvas was as soft as water. My fingers closed around something solid and wooden. That must be the handle. I withdrew my arm and took out the weapon, and the amber light vanished.

I heard my friends gasp.

"It's exactly like the one I drew in the painting!" exclaimed Ross, taking it from my hand.

I turned back to the canvas. My eyes widened. "Look! The hammer's disappeared!"

A blank space now replaced where the hammer had been a few seconds ago.

Wisty laughed. "This is so sick."

With as much carefulness as before, I reached both hands into the canvas again to draw out the circular shield, and set it gently on the table. I repeated the process for every weapon and armour in each painting, until only the canvas showing the sword and shield remained. The heater shield had already been drawn out, so all that was left was the sword, which was the object I admired the most and why I chose to leave it for last. I reached through the cotton and linen surface excitedly, and my fingers gripped the metal hilt. The edges of the sword glowed with the same bright amber light as I took it out of the painting.

The real thing looked just like what I imagined it to look like: glorious and breathtaking. I held it up before me and turned it this way and that, examining it at different angles.

"What do you think?"

Janine was standing beside me and watching me closely.

I smiled. "It's magnificent."

As all of us had expected, Elsa and Anna were delighted after they saw the spectacular armour and weapons. I took them to the barracks and, using magic, replicated them as many times as possible. The armour came in a variety of sizes so that each suit would fit a particular individual. In the end, we had such a great number of them that they occupied four entire floors of one of the barracks buildings.

Everyone in my group practiced in their armour the next day. They were brand new, which meant that the leather they were made out of was hard and stiff as well as heavy, hence moving around in them wasn't very comfortable. On the bright side, however, the more often we wore them the softer and suppler the material became, so that in a couple days time it felt as flexible as my sports clothes. The actual swords and shields also took me a while to get used to as they were heavier in weight than the wooden ones.

Training itself became progressively more enjoyable as the lessons wore on. Anna varied the things we did each day to make the sessions interesting as well as efficient and worthwhile. There was one afternoon that was particularly memorable. We played a game. Anna had divided the twenty of us into two equal groups and we were told to stand in lines facing each other as if we were in a battlefield. When Anna gave the signal, we charged at each other with yells and cries, and the two sides fought. Anybody who fell or collapsed was out and had to leave and watch the rest of the scene from the sidelines. The last two people left performed a final showdown where they had to duel while the others cheered them on, and the fight wasn't over until there was only one magician standing. I had been the third to last to get cut, and the showdown turned out to be between Pearce and an adult in his late twenties. The winner, to my dismay, was Pearce, but I clapped for him along with everybody else all the same. None of us were fussed or too bothered about it. We still had a good time.

The friendships and bonds between the magicians in our group had grown closer and stronger throughout our three weeks of training. We spent our free periods reading books, discussing fighting tactics, chasing each other around, telling jokes, or playing cards, board games and chess with Olaf. Anna invited him to the barracks during breaks to entertain and keep us company. He may be a ditzy snowman, but that snowman was a master at Uno.

Every witch and wizard in our group had gotten as good as Anna by the end of week three, or if not, then very, very close. Knowing that it was time for us to pass on what Anna taught us to the rest of the army, we proceeded with our tasks.

Because the number of people training had now risen, more space in the barracks buildings had been occupied. The group of twenty magicians I was responsible for had their lessons on the fifth floor, which was also shared with Jeff's group.

Recalling the techniques I learned during the last three weeks, which were fresh in my mind, I stuck with precisely the same scheme as Anna's. I taught them everything I knew and missed nothing out. What was more, I had set up upright straw figures similar to scarecrows for them to work their poses on, and I was proud of how fruitful it turned out.

I never considered myself very good at teaching, but the magicians were sharp-witted and all very obedient, hardworking and cooperative, so things went better and more smoothly than I expected, which increased my level of confidence in turn.

During the Sunday morning session of week two, where the magicians were rehearsing in pairs with their armour on and duelling with their proper weapons, I walked around them to see how they were getting on. Titus and Beric were fighting vigorously and ferociously at one end of the room and producing a great deal of noise. Titus seemed to the one controlling the fight.

I paused to watch a duel between a dark-skinned boy and a boy with curly chestnut hair. I noticed that the chestnut guy, whom I came to know as Edwin, obtained a habit of stretching out his arms extensively in order to keep his rival further off.

"Edwin, keep your elbows bent and close to your body," I reminded him. "Stretching out your arms keeps him at bay, yes, but it hurts your ability to thrust and parry quickly."

Edwin gave me a nod, "Got it."

"Extend your sword towards him," I emphasized, "but not your arms. Keep that in—"

"HAAAAAAAARRRGGGGH…HARGH! AHHHHHH…HARGH!"

I whipped around to catch Beric bringing his sword down two-handed upon Titus wildly and repeatedly like a maniac, frustrated and irate at him for continuing to get the upper hand. Titus attempted to fend him off and, realizing that it wasn't working, held up his shield to protect his head and face while Beric hacked at it over and over.

"AAAARRGGGH, AHHHH, ARRGGHH!"

Titus's knees gave away from the force of the blows. He hit the ground on his back.

"Hey!" I barked, rushing towards them. "What do you think you're doing?"

Beric gave no sign that he heard. Ignoring me completely, he persisted in attacking Titus below him, who still had his shield up and was trying to crawl away.

"Beric! HEY!" I grabbed hold of his waist and yanked him back. He shoved against me and tussled under my grip, his teeth clenched and his eyes fixed maliciously on Titus, but I managed to restrain him. "COME OFF IT!" I bellowed, and then lowered my voice. "Don't get upset or angry just because he's better than you. Take it easy, all right?" I stepped in front of him and shook him until he looked at me. "Take it easy."

The room had gone quiet. Everybody had stopped whatever they were doing to watch us.

"Switch of partners," I commanded. "Cynthia, come over here and work with Titus. Beric, you go with Edwin."

I refused to let go of Beric until I was sure he had fully calmed down. It wasn't until ten minutes had elapsed before things went back to normal.

Anna was present the next morning to supervise my training sessions. I arranged the twenty people into four groups of five. She was impressed with their progress, said that I had been teaching them along the correct path, and encouraged me to keep up with the great work. Not expecting any more trouble to rise, I didn't choose to reveal to her about the Beric-Titus situation.

Instead, another incident occurred where a girl named Gretchen, in her stress to win a fight, had used magic to throw one of her adversaries, Amber, against a wall.

Anna wasn't pleased. After lifting Amber back up from the ground, she turned sharply to Gretchen. "Magic, Gretchen? Seriously? That's cheating!" She scolded, "You'll have plenty of time to use it during the battle. Right now, I suggest you focus on getting your sword fighting skills as best as they can be!"

"Sorry Anna."

Apart from that, the sessions were fine. The third week came and went, and by the end of it all the witches and wizards in my group had become experienced fighters. They went on to teach the remainder of the magicians in the army who had yet to be trained. Lesson number three, the last round, had begun.

Since all seven thousand people were now training, every room on every storey of every building of the barracks was packed. Even though my role of teaching and demonstrating what I had learned was done, I still had practicing to do, but with the barracks so busy these days it was hard for me to find a space, so the best times for me to go were on either early mornings or late evenings. After finishing dinner one Thursday night, I changed into my armour, fetched my weapons, (these were no longer stored in the training rooms but were distributed to every single person in the army) and headed for the barracks to go over my workouts. There were quite a lot of magicians fighting despite the fact that it was 8:56 p.m. I climbed up to the topmost level, peered inside and, seeing that it was quieter and there were less people, decided to settle here. Byron and Emmet were each holding a shield and war hammer and appeared to be in the middle of an intense duel.

Anna certainly taught them well, I thought as I watched them for a while.

Jeff, Cynthia, Beric, Gretchen, Amber, Titus and Edwin were engaged in a big fight. In a corner Ross was rehearsing some of the techniques he learned with his great axe.

A rectangular, white marble platform that stretched a long way across the colossal room stood in the centre. A set of stairs were located at both ends. Large circular lights of purple and blue, surrounded by a thin teal border, were inscribed at regular intervals along its surface. Pearce danced solo atop the platform, practicing his footwork and doing a variety of impressive poses, the coloured lights beneath his feet illuminating his golden leather armour and blade. I strode past the other magicians and approached him.

Pearce's face brightened at the sight of me. "Arriving to see the show, Allgood?"

"You look a bit lonely," I said. I placed a hand on the marble edge, leaned against my arm, crossed my ankles, and stared at him. "Are you sure you don't wanna join the others?"

"No. And neither do they want to join me," he said.

I shrugged emptily, "Pity." I spotted a seventeen-year-old with ginger hair practicing on his own.

"Eager to find out why, Whit?" He smirked, "Because I'm too good."

But I was already walking away from him towards the ginger boy and therefore feigned deafness to his reply.

"Aw, don't walk away!" whined Pearce. "Come and show me what you got! I want to see you fight."

I stopped short and spun around to face him. I nodded, "All right."

Pearce's helmet lay on the side. He picked it up and put it on. I brought mine down over my head. I moved to the right end and climbed the flight of stairs leading up to the platform, drew my sword from its scabbard hanging from my sword belt, and swung it with anticipation in a fraction of a second.

On Anna's orders, I had casted a complicated spell on all the swords so that the force of their blow could still hit you but their blade didn't inflict any damage on the opponent. I did the same to Byron and Emmet's hammer and Ross's axe. The enchantment was temporary. It was only necessary in training to prevent the weapons from acutely hurting anybody. That didn't stop you from getting minor wounds and bruises, though. For the real battle the magic would be removed.

"Whenever you're re—"

But I never got the chance to say 'ready' before Pearce lunged. I raised my sword, and our blades met with a loud ting. I pushed him back to retain my position. He struck. I deflected. He struck. I deflected again. I aimed at his torso but then suddenly swung in a different direction. My sword caught his calf just as his landed on my back. He staggered and I retreated a few steps.

He slashed sideways at my head. I ducked and went for his feet, but he jumped with lightning quick reflexes, and I slashed at air. He delivered a downward cut. I blocked it with my shield, ignoring the pain in my left forearm as it absorbed the hit's full force. I stepped forward and gave him a wrathful blow, aiming diagonally at his ear. He sidestepped. He drove his blade upward in a powerful thrust. I caught it. I launched an upper strike. He fended it off. I jabbed at his sternum.

Blow. Ting! Dodge. Blow. Ting! Strike. Ting! Thrust. Swing. Blow. Ting!

The sharp, clear ringing sound of metal on metal filled my ears as we fought.

I swept at his waist. He leaped backwards out of reach. I came at him. Again he danced out of the way. Over and over I slashed and thrust, but the manoeuvres he performed outsmarted me each time. I suspected that they were sped up by magic, but that didn't appear to be the case.

Our blades hit each other's repeatedly. I swung my shield as hard as I could. It struck Pearce's body. He cried out, cursed, lurched, and was almost knocked off his feet. This was my opportunity. I lifted my arm and brought my sword down upon his, and his sword clattered to the marble surface.

With a yell of rage, Pearce backhanded me on the cheek. Then I felt his gauntlet-covered fist collide painfully with my temple. My eyes crossed for a moment. My head pounded. But I was still on my feet. Had it not been for the protection of my helmet, I would've obtained some serious injuries. I blinked hard a few times to clear the fog. In that short period, however, Pearce had picked up his sword. He slashed upwards at my chin. I failed to react in time. I felt the flat side of his blade swipe across my face. The helmet left my head and was thrown off of the platform. Pearce removed his helm as well and tossed it aside.

He charged at me, sword at the ready. I dodged. Then I slashed, and he parried. He slashed, and I parried. I dared a series of blows at him, putting all my strength behind them. Although he dived, leaped and blocked, and my blade had made contacts with his body, it was his shield that dealt with the worst of it.

As soon as he recovered, he grinned at me and struck. I responded by bringing my sword up high, still wondering why he was grinning just now…before I realized it was a feint. He wanted me to raise my arms to expose my thorax. I moved to defend myself. He attacked. I was too late. My right flank took the full hit. I cried out.

In retaliation, I delivered three strikes, but because of the throbbing at my side that refused to ebb, they weren't as nimble as I had hoped, and Pearce easily brushed them aside. I attempted another assault. His shield blocked it. Before I knew it, his sword thwacked me in the stomach, and my dinner threatened to reappear. If it wasn't for the spell on his sword, I would've nearly been cut in half.

What happened next was completely out of the blue. Pearce battered at me with his sword nonstop, attacking whatever part of my body in his range. He was so fast it was unbelievable. Even though I deflected, jumped, dodged, and tried to ward him off, he still came at me tenaciously. And all my panicked brain could think of was beat, defend, no, leap, wait, don't leap, sidestep, slash, block, block again, hang on I was supposed to jump, parry, oh no I forgot to dodge, roll, what was I doing, shield up, dive, deflect his attack, hurry, deflect his attack…!

I flew backwards. Dropping my shield and my sword arm flailing, I landed on the cold marble platform with a thump. I propped myself up on my elbows, groaned and rubbed the hurting spot on the back of my head.

"Ouch…" I moaned.

"Need a hand?"

I squinted at a pair of golden sabatons. Pearce was standing beside me with his hand outstretched, looking haughty but also, strangely, gentle. I glared at the gauntlet covering his hand for a moment, wanting to shove it away, but then thought better of it and took it. He pulled me back up.

"Didn't see that one coming, did you," said Pearce.

I felt naked beneath his gaze. Shaking my head lightly, I acknowledged, "I freaked out."

"You panicked. It's a natural reaction to sword combat." His tone became more sincere. "However, if your mind is tight, you can't act with speed, control or mental clarity."

"Stop quoting Anna," I said curtly.

He held up his hands. "I'm just rephrasing it. Anyway," he squeezed my shoulder in reassurance, "try to stay in a state of—"

"—of calm concentration, I know," I butted in with a hint of annoyance, "Easier said than done, Pearce."

"Whit, if you're feeling worn out, you can just tell me."

"I'm fine," I retorted. My voice came out harsher than I intended. I took a deep breath, mopped sweat from my eyebrow, bent to retrieve my shield, and swung my sword gracefully. "Ready to go again?"