The Last Red Year

SEVEN: Simple Healing Magic

Isri, apparently, has gotten a primer of the daily routine for student mages--the other three, having not been so lucky, dutifully follow their lead. First is breakfast, though Kas isn't sure they need to eat ever again after last night. They still feel full. But, knowing they have a long day of training ahead of them, they attack the pastries and scrambled eggs in the banquet hall with a valorant imitation of last night's gusto. The food is very, very good--they're just used to one barebones meal a day, if that, except when Tallin could afford enough vegetables to make soup.

    Angel, Kas misses Tallin's soup.

    After breakfast, Isri leads them to the gymnasium--apparently each day starts with physical training, partly to work off breakfast, partly to wake everyone up. Brittleith and one of their assistants, a very muscular mage in dull blue robes, are standing in front of the big boulder. Brittleith's robes, for no apparent reason, no longer have sleeves. Some of the older students are chattering softly about how hot they are. Kas doesn't get it. They're just weird. And blond. And their face looks a little like a rat's. "They just like Brittleith because they have muscles and facial hair," they whisper, followed by an exasperated huff. "I don't get it."

    "I do," Sorine says. "They're very pretty."

    "They look like a rodent."

    "That's just offensive."

    Kas decides not to carry on with this.

    Brittleith spares no time for needless speeches or introductions--they just pass out a bunch of training swords, instructing the gathered crowd of student mages to spar. Either they've forgotten there are four newcomers in their midst or they just don't care--the other kids in their year group are maybe decent with their weapons, at least not horrible, but Kas has no idea what they're supposed to be doing.

    "I don't want to hit anyone..." they say, looking down at their sword with utter confusion.

    "It's just wood!" Sorine rolls their eyes. "You ain't gonna stab anyone."

    "Yeah, but it's really heavy! What if I hit you in the head? Tascko said once they hit a rabbit so hard with a tree branch its eye popped right out of its skull!" Kas awkwardly lifts their sword. They don't know what they're doing in the slightest.

    "Yeah, and I ain't a rabbit," Sorine says. They don't have time for this--they swing their sword at Kas, who barely manages to swing theirs up in time to block the blow.

    "Good strength, purple kid, but your technique is sloppy!" says Brittleith, peering over Sorine's shoulder. They duck out of the way just in time to avoid the brunt of Sorine's sword smacking right into the side of their nose. "Careful, now. Even the toughest warriors had to learn how to take constructive criticism!"

    "Construct this, asshat!" Sorine swings their sword again, smacking it right into the boulder and toppling straight over. They pick themself up, brushing their hands off on their tunic and trying to tuck a wayward curl behind their ear. "And my name's Sorine. Not purple kid."

    "I love the attitude!" Just like that, Brittleith's off to help some other kid, leaving Sorine stewing.

    Isri gets a lot of attention from Brittleith and the mage in blue robes, though the two of them circle around to most of the others, providing advice and coaching. Kas is thoroughly embarrassed when the mage in blue corrects their stance--they feel like they should've just known, somehow, despite having never held a sword before. They don't like being out in front of everyone like this--being part of the crowd makes it slightly more bearable, but they swear they can feel all the other kids staring at them. Judging them.