Gaelira arrived at the West Dueling Hall the next morning feeling as though she had not slept enough. Crownspire had given her a temporary room near the main hall, but she spent much of the night thinking about Palmwick, the possibility that magic could recognize her soul, and the evaluation that would decide whether she kept her place.
The training uniform she found when she woke consisted of a white shirt, dark pants, and boots more comfortable than anything she had found at the mansion.
The West Dueling Hall was smaller than its name suggested. Wooden stands surrounded a rectangular arena covered in gray sand, while several training weapons rested on racks along the walls.
The windows were narrow and placed too high to distract those fighting. There were no curious students or teachers gathered to watch her possible failure. Only four people were waiting for her.
Meredith Marshall stood near the center of the arena reviewing several documents. Palmwick sat on one of the weapon racks, swinging his fingers like legs.
Octavia occupied the first row of the stands, identified as a member of Thornheart by a brooch shaped like a heart surrounded by thorns. The final person stood at the opposite end of the hall.
Clarke Calnoy had short, slightly messy silver-white hair. Her green eyes followed Gaelira from the moment she entered, making no attempt to hide that she was evaluating her.
She wore Moonveil's dark uniform with a silver moon embroidered near the collar, and her posture was so straight that she looked ready to begin the fight even without a weapon in her hands.
"Five minutes late," Clarke commented.
Gaelira looked at the enchanted clock above the entrance. "I arrived two minutes early."
"If you arrive only two minutes early, you're already late to prepare."
Octavia hid a smile behind one hand. Gaelira left her small bag beside the stands and stepped down into the arena. "Then I'll try not to waste the three minutes that still belong to me."
Clarke narrowed her eyes, apparently annoyed that her comment had not earned an apology. "I don't understand why they chose me for this. If the rumors are true, you could demonstrate all your abilities just by holding the sword without dropping it."
"Calnoy," Meredith interrupted without looking up from the documents. "Your role is to evaluate her, not condemn her before we begin."
"I'm only trying to establish reasonable expectations."
Gaelira looked at the rack behind Clarke. Among the weapons was one particularly strange sword: its blade was divided into segments joined by a flexible material, allowing it to bend like a serpent's body.
It was a training version, without sharpened edges, but using it had to require far more control than handling a conventional sword.
Meredith closed the folder and called them both to the center. "This evaluation is not an official duel. Veyr does not need to defeat Calnoy to keep her place. She must demonstrate that she can follow instructions, adapt under pressure, and use a weapon competently enough to begin her training." Follow the newest chapters on NovelPing.
"And if she defeats me?" Clarke asked.
"Then you'll have a reason to train more seriously."
Palmwick opened his mouth and produced a sound resembling laughter. Clarke gave him an annoyed look, although the hand merely adjusted his hat innocently.
Meredith indicated the racks positioned on both sides of the hall. "You may choose your weapons. The safety enchantments will reduce the force of impacts, but they will not prevent pain. The fight will end when I order it, one of you surrenders, or someone is placed in a position that would be fatal with real weapons."
Clarke chose the segmented sword without hesitation. When she lifted it, the blade remained straight, but a movement of her wrist caused the sections to separate and form a flexible curve. Gaelira chose a medium-sized straight sword.
The weapon was light, well balanced, and had a narrower grip than the ones used at her club on Earth.
She tested a horizontal cut and felt the movement travel through her shoulders. Her new body responded with surprising speed, although the sword drifted slightly at the end.
She adjusted her feet and tried again. This time she managed to stop the blade where she wanted, but discovered that her arms began to tense sooner than expected.
'Faster, but weaker. I'll have to avoid prolonged exchanges.'
"If you hold the grip that low, you'll lose control when you take the first hit."
Clarke had appeared beside her without Gaelira noticing. Before she could answer, the white-haired girl placed two fingers on her hand and moved it a few centimeters higher. Then she gently pushed one of her elbows inward.
"This sword carries most of its weight near the guard," Clarke explained. "It's not like the cheap weapons you probably practiced with."
Gaelira repeated the movement. The difference was small, but it allowed her to control the stop of the blade more easily. "You're right. Thanks."
Clarke immediately pulled her hand away. "I wasn't helping you. If you hurt yourself before we begin, I'll have to come back another day, and I'm already wasting enough time."
"Of course. You were only protecting your schedule."
"Exactly."
Gaelira managed to notice a faint color on her cheeks before Clarke turned her back. The girl returned to her side of the arena and began warming up with the segmented sword.
Each movement made the blade curve around her body without touching her. She was not merely arrogant. She had the control needed to justify Meredith considering her the best swordswoman among the new students. This chapter is updated first at novelping.com.
Octavia approached the edge of the stands while Gaelira practiced several steps. "Don't try to impress them. You only need to prove that you can learn."
"Are you worried?"
"I'm Thornheart's witness. It would be irresponsible not to pay attention."
"That didn't answer my question."
Octavia pressed her lips together and returned to her seat. "Try not to end up on the floor during the first minute."
Gaelira smiled and continued testing her balance. Her steps were lighter than before and she could change direction more quickly, but the different proportions of her legs changed the distance of each movement.
The experience remained in her mind. The problem was teaching this body how to use it.
Clarke finished warming up and watched Gaelira's final movements. Her confident expression changed for barely an instant. "That stance doesn't belong to any basic Crownspire style."
"Maybe instinct."
"Interesting."
Meredith moved outside the arena and raised one hand. Palmwick adjusted himself on the rack to get a better view, while Octavia leaned forward. Clarke separated the segments of her sword and took an offensive stance.
"Begin."
Clarke moved before the word had finished echoing. Her sword curved in from an unexpected angle and headed toward Gaelira's shoulder. She had no time to think. Her body stepped back half a pace, raised the blade, and deflected the attack with a movement learned many years ago.
The impact echoed through the hall.
Clarke froze, staring at the sword that had been knocked aside. The confidence disappeared from her face and was replaced by far more intense focus.
"That wasn't a beginner's defense."