Phoenix made her way through the Temple District, vaguely recalling the way Priest Lester had led her before to find the Temple of the Warrior and only occasionally double-checking the map in her book. Her party had agreed to go there to train instead while Paul was away, and Phoenix found herself curious about how it might differ from the AOA room they had gone to.

  As the only-slightly-lost Wayfarer turned a corner, she felt a brief sense of relief when the temple loomed before her once more, then promptly rolled her eyes at the group waiting near the entrance.

  Dazien was sitting on top of a low wall with a woman on each side, ughing as he spoke animatedly to the others standing nearby, all dressed in the silvery training gear she had slowly been getting accustomed to. It seemed to be the most popur attire for sparring in, but she wished it did more for the cold.

  Uriel leaned against the wall a few feet away from the group. She assumed that was so he wouldn’t get entangled with them. Luckily, he was conveniently pced directly between herself and the entourage as she approached from the side of the building. Though she swore the directions she was following on the map should have brought her to the front.

  Phoenix cautiously made her way closer, her anxiety increasing with every step as she aimed to hide against her teammate’s much rger form and use him as a social shield.

  She overheard one of the cinderen girls with ashy grey hair, whom she vaguely recognized from their trials. This girl, who was currently one of the two sitting directly next to Dazien, said loudly, “Honestly, King, you should join our party. All we need is a good Defender, and with my family’s connections, you know we’ll get the best missions –not limited to being kept in the city and potentially stuck as a Watcher on the wall for days.”

  The amethyst warrior ughed, “Keeping vigil on the wall is an important duty. It’s the city’s most important line of defense against the dangers of the tundra.”

  “Being a Watcher is boring,” said a runeforged man while leaning against the wall next to the first girl. Phoenix recognized this one as Franz from their assessment, and he continued with a sneer, “It might as well be a punishment mission. There’s no adventure to be had!”

  The group ughed in agreement, and Phoenix slowed a bit, turning on her blurring shadows with her aura held tightly around herself to try to remain less noticeable. She started to feel guilty, wondering if she had hurt her new teammates’ careers and reputation simply by joining their party. She would need to have another talk with Paul when he got back about interfering with what missions they could go on, Mentor privileges or not.

  The first girl spoke up again, sounding more adamant than before, “Seriously, King. We could go right now and have you added to our party roster.”

  The pushy behavior of the young woman rankled Phoenix, and she immediately wanted to avoid any kind of interaction with her. Silently, she slipped next to Uriel, removing the shadows once his body acted as the shield instead.

  The Mage looked down at her with a raised eyebrow, but she just shook her head and stayed silent beside him. She was grateful that he resumed his watch, content with not asking questions.

  Dazien smiled indulgently at the pushy cinderen woman but shook his head, “I am honored by the invitation, Noble Murinah, but I already have my own party that I am quite pleased with so far.”

  “Is it true that by teaming up with that pale human girl, you were able to get training from the Bde of Pure Wrath himself?” one of the other groupies asked, and Phoenix felt her brow raise in surprise at the moniker she could only assume referred to her mentor. She immediately wanted to go ask him how he got something that outrageous in the first pce.

  “I guess that would make sense why you would include someone like her,” another runeforged said with a ugh, “I heard that all she was good for is running around.”

  “Is she like a glorified siva, portaling you around and carrying your stuff?” one of the cinderen asked, and the group ughed at the mental image. Phoenix felt her cheeks redden in embarrassment.

  During her time in the city, she learned of the avals called Sivatherium, or “siva” for short, which were the common pack animals used around the world, simir to horses or donkeys from Earth. They looked like a mix between a moose and a giraffe, with a long neck and legs, a stumpy tail, and rge silver antlers. The creature’s fur was mostly white with little silver spots all over it and orbs like quicksilver for eyes.

  She had instantly fallen in love with the gentle avals but recognized the insult for what it was. They didn’t see her as worth anything more than carrying the bags… not a real Adventurer.

  “Miss Fraser is a valued member of my party,” Dazien said, a bit firmer than he normally addressed others, “She has already proven her worth in combat and has talents that I daresay are even greater than my own.”

  “I doubt that,” Murinah said bitterly, “Who could compare to someone destined to be a king such as yourself, who is even being trained by a god?”

  “Perhaps he meant talents outside of adventuring,” Franz said with another sneer, then gave a twisted grin as he expounded, “She does have a sort of exotic appeal to her. Tell us, King, is she even paler under her clothes? I bet it would only take you a few words to get her to bow down for you.”

  The young warrior’s expression went dark, but Uriel’s voice rose above the chatter and startled everyone present. “Daze!”

  The whole group turned to look at the Mage, and she wanted to disappear into the shadows altogether. Uriel surprised her by gripping her hand and pulling her along next to him. To her horror, he walked away from the safety of the half-wall and toward the entrance to the temple, which y beyond the gathering.

  Dazien looked stricken as he seemed to realize that she overheard their conversation, and Uriel paused as he reached the Defender’s pce perched on the wall. The Mage was tall enough to stare eye-to-eye before stating simply, “We’ll be waiting inside.” Then he continued leading her into the temple.

  Uriel didn’t say anything else as he led her up a few floors and to a smaller sparring room with a padded floor and an assortment of weapons on one of the walls. She was actually grateful for the silence at that moment, unsure how to react to the gossip. The idea that they thought of her like that made her sick to her stomach.

  Her companion walked over to the side and grabbed two practice swords before returning to her, lifting one towards her in a silent invitation.

  She stared at it for a long moment before she took it, her awareness feeling distant. The sword in her hand made her idly remember that she had been mostly focused on training with daggers, and she hadn’t really tried her other forms yet.

  Uriel took his pce in the center of the mat and waited patiently. He was already clothed for sparring as the others had been, and she sent her cloak, dress, and boots into her collection, stepping out onto the small arena in just her matching silver training gear she wore underneath. The ughter of the group still rang in her head, and unwanted tears pricked at the corners of her eyes.

  The movement of Uriel’s sword entering an on-guard position distracted her enough from her thoughts to raise her own wooden sword in response. It wasn’t until he tapped his own sword to hers, trying to feel her out, that she actually registered what he wanted.

  As her mossy eyes met the ember ones of the cinderen, something inside of her seemed to be released. She swung her sword in a downward arc, which he met with his own horizontal block, and he actually smiled at her. Smiled! She had only seen a slight smirk before, but there were teeth showing and everything.

  He parried and returned her attack, which she responded to in kind. Slowly, the movements began coming more naturally, as if they had only been waiting for her to call upon them.

  They continued trading blows back and forth. As they felt out each other’s skill level, the pace increased slowly, becoming faster and more complex as they both began to push themselves.

  Her mind was no longer on the petty groupies, the burdens she thought she was bringing to her party, or her mentor’s doubts about her survivability; it was only filled with fighting –with forms, counters, parries, footwork, breathing, thrusting, and sshing. For once, in all her weeks of training, she wasn’t thinking about anything other than the moment she was experiencing.

  Then Uriel overextended, and she took advantage to pull him off bance. He fell to the mat, and she turned to pce the tip of her practice sword at his throat before he could try to get up again. They were both sweating and breathing heavily, but Uriel still smiled at her, and she slowly smiled in return.

  Cpping coming from the doorway startled the pair, and Phoenix automatically lifted the sword in the direction of the potential threat.

  Dazien halted his cpping and raised his hands defensively before saying with a sheepish grin, “I can understand now why Warrior favors you as his Chosen. That was impressive, my dy.”

  Phoenix dropped the tip of her sword and replied sourly, “I’m not your dy, Dazien.” She then reached out an arm to help Uriel up, which he accepted.

  The gemite cautiously walked forward, lowering his hands, “Forgive me, Phoenix. I hope you know that what the others were saying was out of line and not reflective of how I see you.”

  She gave a huff of annoyance and said, “I get it. Really, I do.”

  Uriel returned to Dazien’s side near the room’s entrance, and she started walking over to the wall of weapons where the Mage had gotten the swords originally as she continued venting, “They all want you in their party, and they think I don’t deserve to be in it, or something dumb like that. I’m the new kid, so I get the brunt of their angst. You don’t have to try to apologize.”

  Dazien caught her arm to stop her movement and drag her attention to him, “I do, though. You’ve done nothing to deserve those words.”

  “You’re not the one who said them,” she pointed out, pulling her arm out of his grasp, “You can’t control what other people say. You can only control your own actions, and right now, your actions have shown me that you’ll defend me from monsters with your shield and from your other friends with your words.”

  Phoenix picked up another wooden sword, testing its weight, as she added, “There’s nothing more I could ask from you.”

  The warrior’s brow furrowed as he asked in confusion, “Then why does it seem like you’re angry with me?”

  She paused, contempting his words. She was angry. She wasn’t exactly sure when that had happened, and honestly, it felt rather new to her. She had experienced frustration, fear, annoyance, despair, but anger… she couldn’t exactly remember the st time she felt it. She didn’t think she was angry at him, though.

  “I don’t know,” she answered softly, then turned away from the Defender and returned back to the center of the mat, wielding a wooden sword in each hand. Then she took a steadying breath, calling to mind the meditation technique her tome had imparted on her and began to dance.

  “Daze!”

  Uriel’s voice had taken Dazien by surprise when he looked up from the group around him on the wall outside of Warrior’s Temple. His heart sank when he finally noticed Phoenix’s presence next to his best friend. Her face was red, and she looked as though she might cry if she looked his way.

  “I’ll take her to our usual room to let off some steam,” his partner said silently in his mind, the disapproval palpable, “She doesn’t need to listen to your noble friends degrade her like that, and frankly, I don’t want to listen to it either.”

  “You know I don’t either,” he mentally replied over his ability. He hated it when his different friend groups collided like this, but Franz’s words were on a different level than normal and completely unacceptable.

  Uriel’s eyes flickered to the others in the group before he replied with a simple challenge, “Prove it,” then he added out loud for everyone else’s sake, “We’ll be waiting inside.”

  His partner’s dismissal returned his attention to the current situation he found himself in, and he remained silent as he watched his party enter the temple. How was he supposed to prove that he didn’t approve of what was being said? He already said he didn’t; wasn’t that proof enough?

  His thoughts were drawn back to the people around him as one of the girls snickered, “Did you see her face? It was almost as red as her ridiculous curls.”

  The others chuckled, and Dazien felt conflicted. He thought her hair was interesting. The runeforged had mostly dark hair worn in braids or shaved close to the scalp. While the cinderen mostly had silken jet-bck hair or ashy gray coils that seemed to defy gravity. He had seen the occasional human, voxen, or elf in the city, a small minority that usually lived in the International District, and they usually had simir dark locks with the occasional exception.

  However, he had never seen hair like hers before. The rge, untamable curls changed every time he saw them and seemed to constantly rebel against the braid she tried restraining them in. It wasn’t that he disliked the other types of hair; it was just different… like his own.

  He dropped down from the wall, intent on joining his party, but his attention was brought back again to the group when Murinah called out to him, “King, you should just forget those two. You are so far above them. You shouldn’t let them chain you down if you really want to be royalty someday.”

  The other girl on the wall spoke up again, “She couldn’t even take a joke. How does she expect to stand up to a monster? She looked like she was going to cry.”

  Franz spoke up again with a smirk, “I don’t know. The tears might add to her value in regard to those other talents King mentioned. They say it’s the quiet ones that are often the craziest in–”

  Dazien didn’t even register his body moving until his fist collided with the man’s jaw and sent him to the ground. The group went silent as he said in a voice that sent a shiver down their spines as his own body trembled with cold fury, “Do not speak of my companions like that ever again. They are not objects for you to measure the value of, nor are their private proclivities for you to judge. Next time I hear disparaging words about them, it won’t be my fist that silences you.”

  Without another look at the others, he turned and stalked into the temple to find his party. He made his way to the room that he and Uriel usually took and had pnned to train with Phoenix in. When he finally arrived, he heard the familiar cck of practice swords striking one another on the other side of the door that he very carefully opened so as not to cause a critical distraction.

  The Warrior King was stunned by what he saw. Phoenix and Uriel were exchanging blows, moving faster with each strike. He hadn’t known that Phoenix could even wield a sword since he had only ever seen her use daggers before. Her long braid kept losing curls as she moved, and he found himself smiling at the wildness of it.

  Then he noticed that Uriel was smiling. That was odd. He had known the man for seven years and thought he could count on his fingers how often he had seen a genuine smile on that face.

  He wondered if he should ask his companion about that ter. What about this woman made Uriel smile like that? Then he saw the Mage slip up, and Phoenix took advantage of it. He cpped at the dispy and was taken aback when she raised her sword at him as though he was to receive the next beating.

  Dazien raised his hands, wondering if she hadn’t realized it was him. He knew how battle energy could sometimes cloud one’s perception, and he tried to give a reassuring smile, “I can understand now why Warrior favors you as his Chosen. That was impressive, my dy.”

  He was relieved when she dropped her sword but then concerned again at her next words, “I’m not your dy, Dazien.” He winced at that, wondering if she thought that he had been telling others that she was his, especially considering what his now-former-friend had said.

  He tried to apologize, but she rebuffed him and walked away towards the weapon racks. He tried to get her full attention, but she brushed him off once more, saying she didn’t bme him. However, her attitude and body nguage seemed to be saying the opposite of her words as she grabbed a second practice sword.

  Feeling his frustration rise, he couldn’t help asking, “Then why does it seem like you’re angry with me?”

  She paused and got a far-off look before saying softly, “I don’t know.”

  As she ignored him and went towards the center of the mat, he was about to follow after her when Uriel caught his gaze and shook his head, gesturing to join him off to the side.

  Dazien clenched his fists, not wanting to just let things stay like this, but he joined his friend. He was about to ask what the Mage wanted when the movement from the center of the room caught his attention. He felt his jaw drop as he recognized the meditative Dual Sword Dance of the Weapon Wielding Warrior.

  He had only seen it performed once before by a visiting Cleric of the Warrior, but the memory had been seared into his mind. Watching Phoenix perform the fluid movements now in front of him had him completely entranced.

  The amethyst warrior couldn’t tear his gaze away, but he asked his friend quietly, “Did you know she could use the sword?”

  “No,” the smooth voice responded, “I had thought to teach her some, to get her mind off… things.”

  “Thank you,” he said promptly, “I didn’t know she was there. I–” he paused, trying to collect his thoughts as his eyes continued following the twirling swords amidst hair like fire, “You asked me to prove I don’t agree with them, so I don’t think I’m going to spend more time with them.”

  He barely registered Uriel looking towards him from the periphery of his vision and continued to expin, “If I can only control my own actions as she said, then I don’t want to surround myself with people who think it… funny to disparage my companions. I understand enough to know that words are weapons in their own right.”

  Uriel nodded, “Sometimes words aren’t enough of a shield or balm,” his friend gestured towards Phoenix’s dance, “Sometimes actions are required.”

  “I’m starting to realize that words of support mean little without the actions to back them,” he gave a slight grimace, “That’s probably why I punched him for his words.”

  Uriel gave him a surprised look, then smirked and said simply, “Good.”

  “Do you think she’ll forgive me?” he asked with a gesture towards the woman now deep in the meditative trance of the dance.

  “You? Yes. Herself? I’m not so sure,” his partner responded thoughtfully.

  Dazien finally looked away from the dance at that point to meet his friend’s gaze in confusion, “Herself? She didn’t do anything wrong.”

  Uriel shrugged, “I don’t believe that’s how she sees things. I think she and I share this trait as well.”

  “You didn’t do anything wrong either,” he said adamantly for what must have been the millionth time.

  His partner just shrugged once more and didn’t speak further on the subject. Instead, Uriel went over to the other side of the mat where he wouldn’t interfere with Phoenix and began his own version of sword meditation that Dazien had taught him years ago.

  He crossed his arms over his chest as he turned back to continue watching Phoenix, muttering to himself, “Maybe I am drawn to the silently chaotic types.”