The training yard was a sea of shouting, clashing practice blades, and the thud of boots against packed dirt. The late summer sun beat down without mercy, turning the dust into a haze that clung to every breath.
Squad 4 moved in formation across the yard, wooden swords raised, shields angled to deflect the rain of strikes from their opponents Squad 6, this week's unlucky pairing.
"Left flank, close it!" Liora's voice cut through the noise, sharper than steel.
Vell stepped in, shield braced, catching a blow meant for Brayden's ribs. The rebound left an opening, and Riken lunged forward, his sword smacking against their attacker's shoulder with a satisfying crack.
"Point for us!" Riken shouted, grinning even as the instructors barked for silence.
"Focus, Riken," Liora snapped, though she didn't hide the brief smirk tugging at her lips.
The mock combat wasn't the chaotic mess it had been two months ago. They moved like a unit now angles covered, spacing tight, even Brayden's habit of drifting too far out was gone. The improvement was obvious.
Squad 6 pressed harder, trying to push them off balance, but Danya slid into position without a word, catching a strike on her shield and shoving back with a burst of force that sent their opponent stumbling.
"Push the center!" Liora called.
They surged forward as one, wooden swords striking shields and bodies in controlled bursts. The clash ended with a whistle — Vaelen's voice ringing out from the sideline.
"Squad 4, match point. Reset!"
Groans came from Squad 6.
Riken spun his sword in his hand, grinning like he'd just won a tournament. "Two months ago, we were barely holding our weapons the right way. Now look at us unstoppable."
"You're talking like we didn't just barely edge them out," Vell replied, wiping sweat from his brow.
"Barely is still winning."
They reset positions. Across the yard, Instructor Halvren watched with his usual unreadable expression, arms folded. Kael stood beside him, muttering something about footwork before Halvren waved him quiet.
The whistle blew again.
This time, Squad 6 came in fast too fast. Riken blocked the first hit but nearly lost his footing on the churned-up dirt. Liora stepped in, catching the next blow for him before pivoting around and driving her shield into her opponent's chest.
"Don't make me save you twice in one match," she said through clenched teeth.
"Wouldn't dream of it," Riken replied, but he tightened his stance.
The tempo was faster now, strikes and parries flowing without hesitation. Squad 4's shield wall held, Vell calling adjustments from the middle, Brayden watching for openings on the edges. When the final break came, it was sudden — Riken slipping past his opponent's guard and tapping them on the helmet with a quick, decisive thunk.
Match over. Squad 4 ... again.
Vaelen strode forward, expression mildly impressed. "Not bad. Keep this up, and you might survive graduation."
"That's the goal," Riken said.
"No," Vaelen corrected. "The goal is to win without losing half your squad first. But I'll take progress."
As the other squad left the yard, Squad 4 collapsed in a loose circle, catching their breath.
"That was better," Vell admitted.
"Better?" Riken scoffed. "That was flawless."
"Except for the part where you almost fell over," Danya pointed out.
"Style choice," Riken said. "Keeps them guessing."
Liora shook her head, tail flicking lazily behind her as she looked at the yard. The Beast was still out there somewhere — she could feel it. But for now, all she had was drills, dust, and the odd comfort of fighting alongside people who were starting to feel like more than just squad mates.
The clatter of wooden blades and the sharp bark of orders faded as Squad 4 left the training yard, sweat-slick and grinning despite their exhaustion. From the observation platform, Halvren watched their retreating forms without moving a muscle. His eyes followed each of them — Liora at the front, posture steady and precise; Riken laughing with Brayden as though the match had been a tavern game; Vell and Danya in quiet conversation, both still alert despite the break.
"They've come a long way," Vaelen said, stepping up beside him. The mage instructor's gaze was sharper than his tone. "Two months ago, they could barely hold formation for more than thirty seconds. Now, they adapt mid-match without breaking pace."
Halvren gave a small nod. "They're learning."
"They're more than learning," Vaelen continued. "They've taken to the attunement work better than any other group this year. You noticed?"
Halvren grunted, which Vaelen took as agreement.
"I set them to humming during combat last week," the mage said, a glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes. "Their own internal note. No breaks, no faltering — even in the thick of a shield push. It's the first sign they can hold a magical resonance without conscious focus."
Halvren didn't turn, still watching the yard where another pair of squads began their match. "And what does that mean to you?"
"It means," Vaelen said, "they're ready for the next step. Shaping magic while under physical strain. If they can maintain their tune through the chaos of combat, they can begin layering it into spellwork without collapsing their control. It's rare to see that this early in training."
Halvren's silence stretched for a long moment.
"You want to move them ahead of schedule," he said finally.
"I want to make sure they're not wasted running in circles with basic drills," Vaelen replied. "Squad 4 has… chemistry. Unorthodox, yes, but effective. Even their humor serves them — keeps tension down without losing focus."
Halvren's mouth twitched in what might have been the ghost of a smile. "Unorthodox is one word for it."
Vaelen looked at him sidelong. "You're the one who told me they've got the spark. I'm just confirming it."
Halvren exhaled slowly. "Fine. You can test them. But do it quiet. I don't need the other squads thinking they're falling behind because one group got special treatment."
"I'll run it in a closed session," Vaelen said, already planning. "And if they fail?"
"Then you start over and don't mention it again."
The two stood in companionable silence for a moment, the distant clash of training drills filling the air.
"I'll admit," Halvren said after a while, "I didn't expect them to pull together this quickly. Riken still runs his mouth, Brayden's got more enthusiasm than polish, but they're starting to think as one. Liora's holding them steady. That's what matters."
"And the mage work?" Vaelen asked.
"They keep humming in a fight without tripping over their own feet," Halvren said. "That's worth noting."
Vaelen chuckled. "High praise, coming from you."
Below, Squad 4 reappeared at the far end of the yard, weapons slung over shoulders as they headed toward the mess hall. Even from here, Halvren could hear Riken's voice carrying over the others, some exaggerated retelling of the last match.
Halvren's gaze lingered a moment longer before turning away. "Next step, then. Just make sure they're ready before you push too far."