Keldras stood in the lodge before a group of nine elders seated behind a large desk.
Off to one side stood his grandfather, with the weapons master beside him, currently attempting to justify his actions.
As he continued, the expression on Keldras’ grandfather’s face grew steadily darker.
One of the elders yawned lazily, looking thoroughly bored.
His mother rested her head in her hands, her expression one of obvious annoyance.
The Bonebreaker elder leaned back in her chair, balancing on two legs as she stared at the ceiling.
The weapons master finally finished his explanation.
Saphira snorted.
“Listen to this manipulative bastard.”
The Bonebreaker elder let her chair slam back onto all four legs with a loud bang.
She looked down at the weapons master.
“My nephews are headstrong. They’re children, after all. This kind of behavior is to be expected,” she said matter-of-factly.
“You, however, are a grown-ass man using your authority to harass one of your students!” she snapped.
“What’s more, you attempted to use my clan to make an example of him!”
The bored-looking elder lowered his sleepy gaze to the weapons master.
“This is such a waste of our time. Weren’t you supposed to come here to make a public apology instead of excuses? Just strip him of his rank and whip him,” he said before letting out another yawn.
The other elders murmured among themselves while the weapons master’s face became ashen.
Finally, Ziri spoke.
“We’ve come to our conclusion. He is to be taken to the arena, tied to a pole, publicly lashed fifteen times, and stripped of his honorable position.”
A gasp spread through the trainees in attendance, their faces a mixture of shock and disbelief.
Bolg and his brother barely suppressed their rage at the decision.
Keldras felt conflicted.
He had wanted justice, but he hadn’t expected the punishment to be this severe.
“He brought this on himself for being a complete idiot,” Saphira said coldly.
Garrok and Bolg were temporarily appointed to oversee the trainees until a new weapons master could be chosen.
Originally, the responsibility had been meant for Garrok alone, but Keldras’ rival had thrown such a fit over it that the elders appointed them both.
“Alright, free training for the rest of the day. Pair up or just swing at the practice dummies,” Garrok announced casually, waving a dismissive hand.
He walked off with Bolg.
“This is such a waste of our time,” he whined.
As they left, Bolg shot Keldras a venomous glare.
A few trainees hurried over.
“Never figured anyone would actually stand up to them,” one of them admitted.
The girl shrugged.
“Someone had to prove they could bleed.”
“That magic was so cool! What was that blast thing you did?” she asked excitedly.
“And that thing that slowed Bolg’s club—what was it?” another asked.
Keldras could almost picture Saphira with her hands on her hips and her chin held high.
He couldn’t really answer their questions since he hadn’t consciously cast the spells, so Saphira filled in the blanks while he simply repeated what she told him.
The group wanted to know if anyone could learn to do it.
“You need the right magical aptitudes,” Keldras explained after a moment’s thought.
“Speaking with the shamans would probably be the quickest way to find out if you have them.”
One of the girls stepped forward and lightly grabbed Keldras’ arm.
“Your sister is a shaman, isn’t she? Can you ask her to come advise us?” she asked coquettishly.
Saphira, who had been happily chatting in his mind, suddenly fell silent.
A chill ran down Keldras’ spine, raising goosebumps.
He gently removed the girl’s hand from his arm.
“I’ll ask,” he said flatly.
The uneasy feeling didn’t fade.
“Are you alright, Saphira?” he asked inwardly.
“Yes,” she replied coldly.
“I didn’t ask for that to happen.”
“It’s not like I care who you decide to be close with,” she replied.
Keldras sighed.
“Idiot,” she muttered softly.
The orc girl looked dejected.
“Sorry. I guess I got a little too close.”
“It’s fine,” Keldras replied.
Just then, his rival and another orc approached.
“Why are you wasting your time with that maggot, Lokara?” Skragg sneered.
“He uses a few sneaky tricks to win, and suddenly you all want to kiss his feet.”
Saphira bristled.
The air around Keldras suddenly felt charged with energy.
“If he’s so good, he could probably take both of us, right?” Skragg laughed mockingly, slapping his friend on the shoulder.
Lokara looked at him with disgust.
“You’re such a Gubuk, Skragg,” she said, using the Orcish word for someone who’s all talk.
Several trainees failed to suppress their laughter.
Skagg pointed angrily at her.
“We’ll see who’s Gubuk!” he shouted before turning to Keldras.
“Do you dare accept my challenge?”
“He’s demanding you fight two-on-one and still claims he’s not all talk,” Saphira scoffed.
Keldras walked away from the group and picked up his halberd, giving it a quick spin.
“Come on, then.”
Skragg and his companion spread out, Skragg moving behind Keldras while his friend faced him from the front.
It wasn’t difficult to guess what tactics a coward like Skragg intended to use.
The orc in front charged, swinging his axe at Keldras’ midsection.
Sure enough, Skragg struck from behind the moment Keldras dodged aside, his club aimed at Keldras’ head.
Keldras ducked beneath the blow.
“This moron’s viciousness is working against him,” Saphira observed.
“If he’d aimed for your body instead, he might’ve connected.”
Keldras regained his distance, and the pair lined up once more.
They repeated the same attack.
This time, however, Skragg barely dodged the swinging butt of Keldras’ halberd.
Skragg’s face reddened until it resembled a ripening tomato.
With identical growls, the two attacked from opposite sides.
Keldras stepped into the front opponent’s reach before he could swing, slipped around behind him, shoved him toward Skragg, and kicked at the back of his leg.
The unfortunate orc stumbled directly into Skragg’s path, nearly taking a club to the head.
Skragg managed to pull the strike at the last second, and the watching trainees shook with suppressed laughter.
Keldras’ halberd swept around.
Skragg shoved his companion aside and narrowly avoided the blade, but his friend took the full force of the strike across the ribs.
He cried out and tumbled into the dirt, clutching his side.
“Well, that’s one down,” Saphira said smugly.
“Such cowardly attacks!” Skragg spat venomously.
“Oh?” Keldras replied flatly.
“Striking someone in the back is honorable, then?”
His opponent roared and charged.
Keldras caught the descending club on the back of his halberd, sidestepped, and twisted the weapon downward, slamming Skragg’s own club into the top of his head.
The unexpected blow left Skragg dazed.
Before he could recover, Keldras swept his legs out from under him with a hard strike.
He crashed into the dirt.
“Insignificant,” Keldras said coldly.