The Ritual of Blood and Bone

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Seraphina's heart thunders in her chest. Nathanial and the general sit before her, neither of them speaking, letting silence hang awkwardly in the air. Finally, Seraphina lets out a frustrated huff.

"Can one of you say something, please?" Seraphina snaps.

The general chuckles and Nathanial smirks. "I was quite enjoying seeing you squirm," he replies calmly.

Seraphina rolls her eyes. When doesn't he enjoy making her feel as uncomfortable as possible?

She grinds her teeth in frustration. "Can you please just give me some last-minute advice or a quick lesson before I go out there and have my arse handed to me? Anything to keep me from completely embarrassing myself."

The general straightens and walks toward her.

"First of all, you aren't going to make an arse of yourself," he tells her. "Nysa, Nathanial, and I have all seen to that. We have seen to it that physically you are prepared for this tournament. It's this you need to figure out." He pokes her forehead and Seraphina slaps his hand away, making him laugh.

"When I requested a last-minute tutorial with you, it was for a final training session. Not so you and Natanial could gang up on me. Why is he here, anyway?"

"Because, technically, I am also your tutor," he replies, not bothering to look up from picking at his nails.

Seraphina closes her eyes and lets out a long sigh, running her hands through her hair nervously. "I have to go out there in twenty minutes and fight in front of everyone in my year. Can't you be at least a little empathetic about how terrifying that is?"

"Nope," Nathanial replies. Seraphina glares at him, then looks pleadingly at the general.

"You will be fine, Seraphia," he says. "I have helped train you after all. You are ready."

As promised, his training sessions had been brutal. By the end of each one, Seraphina had been left a trembling, sweaty mess. Never had her body felt so weak or drained. She even had to miss a few other classes to recover, which, thankfully, was allowed considering the rank tournament was so close. She wasn't the only student being pushed by their tutor in preparation. However, none of the other students' tutors are the general of Narenna's military.

Nathanial finally straightens, his expression serious. "Your shields have come along terribly," he tells her.

"Thanks," she mutters.

He ignores her, continuing. "But, luckily for you, you are only going up against pathetic first years. Now, magic and powers aren't allowed, as you know, but don't let that silly little rule trick you into thinking you won't be subjected to mental attacks from students with mind powers. Some of them will subtly try and use their abilities on you. Some of the better ones will even get away with it."

"So, not only do I have to focus on not having the shit beaten out of me, I need to focus on my mental shields too?"

"Exactly."

Seraphina groans and sits down, leaning against the wall as her head begins to spin. Nathanial groans in frustration at her actions. She shoots him a harsh glare, then looks back at the general.

"Cut her some slack, Nathanial. It's her first tournament."

Nathanial just scoffs and looks away from them. The general turns back to Seraphina, a small smile on his face.

Purple bags rest under his tired eyes and his smile doesn't meet his eyes. Though he is perfectly groomed every time he is in public, there is a strange tiredness about him. She had noticed it throughout their training sessions over the last few days. The way he snapped at her or others, or the way he had hushed meetings with Etherals she didn't recognise but who wore very fancy military uniforms. She has a feeling that he may want to be here, but he really can't be. Something is stressing him, that's for sure.