“Stop looking at me.”

  “I’m not looking at you. I’m sitting in my seat and your obnoxious face is in the way.”

  Laurel glanced over at Martin and confirmed he was listening to the same hushed argument from the other end of the breakfast table. Heightened senses were often a double-edged sword, giving them a front-row seat to the continued sniping between Gabrielle and Rebecca that had been the constant background noise for the weeks since their return to Verilia.

  “Should we intervene? I would have thought beating on each other for the last fortnight was enough to put this to rest.” She spoke softly and sent a thread of air mana to prevent anyone but the sect officers seated around her from hearing their discussion.

  “I don’t think so. In primary school when a teacher tried to interfere with fights like this it only made them worse,” Annette said, sipping her second cup of tea that morning.

  “They need to work out a pecking order for themselves. See it in every wannabe gang out in the Flats,” Adam added without looking up from the paper.

  “I suppose so.” Laurel let the matter drop and went back to breakfast. The others might not be so philosophical if they were the ones refereeing every ridiculous challenge those two came up with. “Other topics then. When are you thinking of heading out with Devon?”

  “Another two weeks should do it,” Martin replied. “The jackass is getting more irritable every time I see him, can’t delay too much longer. Not to mention we need to figure out what we’re up against. They’ll be missing that Corvin asshole by now. And I doubt he was the only one they sent out hunting.”

  Laurel agreed. They had pushed the Core to the Town stage quickly, and the population density meant they could reach at least a City within a year or two. But they weren’t the only ones building up a City Core. Laskar City was just as big as Verilia, large enough to support a World Capital. Not something she had any intention of seeing in their enemies’ hands.

  “You’re right,” she answered belatedly. “Are you set on it being just the three of you? We could probably set up a guild job and find some extra muscle. At least enough to deal with any of George’s friends you run into.”

  “Nah,” he said. “Too many will just slow us down. We’ve already got to sneak by their capital on the way in and back out again without getting caught.”

  “Are you sure I should –” Adam started.

  Martin reached to the side and laid his hand on Adam’s forearm, stopping him from fiddling with the utensils.

  “You’re coming. You need the experience and Devon and I can keep you safe. Besides,” Martin’s grin turned sly, “aren’t you excited about what we’ll find? Think of it. You and I will get to visit the site of an ancient crafting sect. What secrets will we be able to ferret out and bring back to the Archive?”

  Martin knew his target well. Laurel watched the light dawn in Adam’s eyes and decided to give a final push. “Think of the paper you’ll publish with the Historical Society.”

  Adam began nodding and pulled out a pen to start jotting notes in the margin of the paper. Martin sent her a quick wink and they went back into the minutiae of the sect. Before coming to Verilia she would have absolutely hated a morning filled with mundane smalltalk. Now she reveled in the chance to be home for a while.

  “Laurel! Laurel! I challenge Gabrielle for her insults to me this morning,” Rebecca shouted.

  The girl was now standing up, hands planted on the table and leaning towards Gabrielle, who was glowering in a mirrored position. Martin choked on his tea while trying to keep the laughter from spilling out loud.

  Laurel stood fast enough her chair flew back.

  “Fine. But I’m done watching the same boring fight where you both tire out before you win. Figure out something beyond a standard duel. Then come find me.”

  All of the children were watching now, identical looks of confusion across their faces.

  “Not a duel?” It was Cooper who finally spoke up.

  “Yes? You think we make healers or artists compete in a fight with warriors?” They were still making the same faces. “I’m sure we made you all read sect histories, but clearly it didn’t sink in the first time. Thank your sectmates for revealing this deficiency. A new assignment for everyone this week: translate at least one non-martial challenge from the sect's history into modern Meristan.”

  A chorus of groans filled the air.

  “Careful. If we’re so behind on our Alrasian lessons then maybe it should be two stories.”

  The students stampeded out of the dining room and towards the training area outside. Laurel smiled as she followed them. Yes, she could appreciate this kind of morning.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  *********

  “Hey Eric, do you recognize this word?” Cooper asked the younger boy.

  “Yeah I saw it in one of the medical scrolls about testing out any potion you make. Martin said it meant ‘rat’.”

  That got Gabrielle’s attention. She was absolutely not doing a rat challenge against the brat. “What are you two talking about, we’re supposed to be translating challenges. There’s no way they were fighting with rats back in the day.”

  “Not a fight.” Cooper stood and joined her and Helene at their usual work table. The section of the library they were in was filled with wide tables, surrounded by comfortable chairs they could use for their work. As long as they followed all of Adam’s rules. Which meant their teacups were relegated to one table, which was never allowed to house any books. Today they were packed with students combing through old sect records. They all remembered the day Martin had decided they needed to run all the way up to the university and back when he deemed they weren’t trying hard enough in regular conditioning. Laurel had laughed hard enough at the story that no one was willing to see what her punishment would be if they didn’t complete the assignment from breakfast.

  “What do you mean it isn’t a fight, that’s why we’re here right now,” Gabrielle said.

  Helene just calmly continued her own translation, ignoring the interruption and occasionally looking at the dictionary she had put together over the winter.

  “Ah, but see I went back to the official bylaws. It was one of the first things Adam worked on while they were setting up the building. To quote ‘any sect member may challenge another on grounds of honor’. Then there’s a bunch about who can adjudicate and the punishments for hurting another sect member outside of an official challenge. Then we get ‘the challenge must be a contest agreed upon by both parties in which a definitive winner may be determined by the adjudicator. Any costs must be incurred by either or both parties and may be included in the loser’s forfeit.’ Nothing about actually fighting.

  “And this,” he pushed the tome he was translating in front of Gabrielle, “is not a story of a fight. If I’m reading it right, two adepts that worked with animals decided to settle their differences by each taking two months to train a rat. At the end, they timed which rat could complete a maze designed by the adjudicator the fastest.”

  Almost everyone was listening in now, having gathered around while Cooper explained.

  “Weren’t these people supposed to be like legendary warriors? You’re telling me they had official rat races?”

  “I think Martin and Laurel might be giving a pretty skewed idea of what cultivators did all day,” Cooper answered. “But yeah, rat races.”

  “Not just rats. This one is just about collecting the most mushrooms in an hour.” Helene closed her own book, gathering up her pages neatly to the side and clipping them together.

  “So it can be anything,” Gabrielle said.

  She glanced over at her nemesis, who was resolutely facing the opposite direction.

  **********

  Leander looked up, saw Gabrielle staring, and looked right back down again. His foot reached out to nudge Rebecca’s under the table.

  “I heard them,” she muttered under her breath. “Thinks she’s so smart but she’s just stealing ideas from the others.”

  The grumbling continued for a while after that but Leander had learned over the last couple of weeks that his input wasn’t necessary for this part. Instead he refocused on the book he was supposed to be translating for Laurel, and the half page of notes to the side. It was slow. He was slow. Lessons had been focused on more practical skills while they were adventuring. Laurel made them look up plants and natural treasures in the old language when they found something, but that wasn’t the same as the regular language practice the others had done. But a cultivator rose to any challenge.

  He’d brought story books on the trip as well, bought with his own money. But those weren’t about magic. He wasn’t taking a chance on forgetting how to read because he stopped doing it for a while, even if Adam had told him that wasn’t how it worked. Plus he liked stories. Just not when he had to translate them.

  He kept reading. The others were talking about making rats fight. Hopefully they wouldn’t try to bring Flint into their games. He was doing his best but the little guy still wasn’t ready for combat. That’s why he had Leander to protect him. His translation story wasn’t anything exciting. Just two guys fighting to see who would get to eat a flower they both wanted. Or doing something to the flower. Alrasian was hard.

  “...stupid girl probably wants us to do an old-time poetry contest…”

  Rebecca was still going. Leander kept one ear open in case the rant turned into a conversation, but otherwise he alternated between his reading and eavesdropping on the others. He’d heard rumors that Eric had mastered an external technique, but he hadn’t been able to talk to the other boy before the divide had sprung up between them. A cultivator was loyal to his friends, so he hadn’t reached out since. But he was still curious about how the aspiring healer had accomplished the feat.

  “Ugh! I can’t take sitting around here anymore. Come on, let’s take Flint for a walk.”

  Leander happily obliged and soon they were on their usual path out into the countryside. He watched as, just on time, Rebecca’s whole body relaxed and her expression became a genuine smile.

  “It was just getting so suffocating in there, you know?”

  He didn’t but nodded anyway. To him the sect house was where he was the most comfortable. With Laurel around and the thick stone walls, it was the one place in the world he was without a doubt safe. Rebecca hadn’t seemed to mind when they joined the sect, but she’d been spending more time outside in the countryside since they came back. Usually she claimed it was for Flint, but Leander saw how much calmer she was out here.

  “So what do you think I should make the challenge, if it can be anything?”

  Leander thought for a moment and pulled out the sound stone hanging on a cord around his neck.

  “Why challenge?”

  “Why? You heard what she said that first day! And she’s always getting on me and talking about how I’m not as good a cultivator or whatever. I want to prove once and for all that I’m worth more to the sect than she is.”

  That wasn’t good, but he wouldn’t change her mind. He channeled more mana into the stone.

  “Cultivation is many things. If you want to decide who is the best cultivator, you need many challenges.”

  “Yes! That’s perfect. We’ll come up with a list and then do them all. Then whoever wins the most is the best. Come on, we need to go back.”

  Rebecca turned on her heel, jogging back towards the sect house in the distance. A sinking feeling started in his gut. That might not have been the best choice, but it was too late now. He had a brief flashback to the street kids in Lanport, which Rebecca whipped into a frenzy with only a few days of work.

  It would probably be okay. But just in case he would make sure Laurel never figured out it was his idea.

  **********

  “Everyone is agreed?”

  Cooper looked between the young women on either side and resisted the urge to step further back. Rebecca had stormed back into the library an hour ago and announced that they would need more than one contest to prove which of them was the victor. He was fairly sure that everyone except the two girls was confused as to what they were fighting about, but the hidden realm had cemented a friendship with Gabrielle so he went along with the whole thing anyway. The rest of the time had been spent brainstorming a list of challenges. That at least had been fun. The rest of the novice and initiate sect members had all joined in, recommending examples from their own research or whatever they could come up with themselves. The results were daunting. A dozen competitions from the esoteric to the mundane, to be completed over the next few months. Maybe more, if these two couldn’t stop adding whatever they thought they would win at.

  “I’m in,” Gabrielle said.

  “Me too,” Rebecca added.

  Flint chittered a bit from Rebecca’s shoulders, which Cooper thought was a coincidence. Though Leander insisted that the little monkey understood them some of the time. Cooper desperately wanted to play with the little guy but the unofficial divide among the initiates meant Flint was firmly on Team Rebecca.