I swallowed nervously and glanced at Alex and Ella. They had the same uneasy expressions.
“I understand the majority of you were under the impression that I would be introducing you to the apprentice mages and their instructors… I will be doing no such thing. The only way you will be receiving an introduction is if you are one of the few to pass our end-of-year trials and become one yourself.
“The training masters and their apprentices will be occupying the eastern wing of the second and third-floor. You are not to disturb them. They will only be here until the solstice, and then they will be setting back out to continue their training in the field. While they are here, they are not to be engaged. Any of you found fraternizing will be expelled immediately. The apprenticing mages are the futures of our great institution, and I will not have it squandered by overzealous first-years.”
Master Barclae paused and then chuckled: “On a more positive note, I do have the pleasure of introducing the three masters who will be your faction leaders for the remainder of the year... Masters Cedric, Ascillia, and Narhari, please come join me in the center.” Our current training master, the eccentric Alchemy mage, and a tall, foreboding man of Eastern descent stepped forward to stand beside the Master of the Academy.
“As you know,” Barclae continued, “this week marked the end of your orientation. Tomorrow you start anew with your chosen faction. Masters Eloise and Isaac will continue to lead your sessions on magical theory, but your new faction will dictate what time of the day you report to the library to do so. Sir Piers will still direct your physical conditioning, but again, your sessions with him will depend on the same.
“Master Cedric here will be leading the magical application portion of your studies for Restoration. Due to a recent resignation, Ascillia has been promoted to Master leading the section on Alchemy. And, last but certainly not least, Master Narhari, our returning master for first-year Combat. Between the three of them, I am sure you will be kept more than busy.”
The Master of the Academy gave a broad wave of his hand. “Now you are all dismissed. Make sure to report to the constable before curfew with the name of your chosen faction—without it your time here will be considered a resignation.”
“Are you ready for the biggest mistake of your life?” Ella nudged me as we trudged up the training hill for our first session with Master Narhari. There were already rumors going around that the master of Combat sent first-years packing faster than Sir Piers himself.
“It is the only one worth making,” I replied bravely.
“I hope you still feel that way when practice is over.”
I was about to respond but found myself speechless. Ella followed my gaze with her own, and her jaw dropped.
“In the name of the gods,” she breathed.
Before us stood the most handsome man either of us had ever laid eyes on. I hadn’t had much time to study Master Narhari during Master Barclae’s introduction the night before, but now the impression was unmistakable.
Over six feet of sheer, towering muscle greeted my awestruck stare. The master of Combat had well-oiled black hair pulled sleekly back behind his ears, smoldering eyes of icy blue, bronze skin, and a short, rough stubble that lined his upper lip and chin suggestively. He couldn’t have been more than thirty-five years, and there was an unmistakable air of confidence to his stance.
Ella and I stood dumbfounded on the side of the field. Soon we weren’t alone, as more and more girls approached the dais they seemed to filter off one-by-one in a state of confusion. I counted the number of students.
There were far less girls than boys to our faction, seventeen amongst the forty or so young men. Most of my gender had chosen Alchemy or Restoration. They’d been under the impression that we were disadvantaged for Combat—after all, most boys had grown-up playing at knights, but few girls had done the same.
Now, we were proving exactly how foolhardy our sex could be as the seventeen of us stood frozen in place at the commanding presence of ideal masculinity. It was a pleasant surprise.
We soon realized our mistake when the shirtless training master ordered everyone to line up and begin the same casting drills as the week before. Unlike Master Cedric, Narhari did not allow weakness, which became evident the moment we ran out of stamina.
“This is Combat!” the new master of Combat shouted. He paced up and down the lines as we attempted to conjure enough force to distance our targets.