Cavaar loved to fight. He felt at home in the ring. All of his senses sharpened and focused on his opponent. Where could he find an opening? What patterns and habits were exploitable? Should he try a bluff? The sabers flashed in the morning light. He looked for an opening, a hand perhaps? No, his opponent was too wary. Back and forth they went. He brought his saber up to meet an overhead blow and sparks flashed with a clang. He let the blade slide off and spun his own around for an overhead cut. Clang! He twisted his blade and reached, hoping to use the curve of his blade to land a poke to his opponents' head, but they were too fast. They ducked underneath and…

“OOF!” The air was forced out of his lungs by a fist slamming into his kidney. He started to fall but caught himself with his sword by sticking it in the ground, his right knee was bent. Dmitri looked down at him. Cavaar would've complained that the instructor had used a dirty tactic, but that was before. 

A beast will have no honor when it fights, he thought. I need to be better.

Cavaar coughed and spat blood in the dirt. Dmitri watched him. The student leaped to his feet and threw a flourish of cuts as fast as he could. They were ragged, giving the appearance of fatigue. Well, he was fatigued, but not so much that he couldn't- there! Cavaar's sword whistled threw the air and Dmitri easily dodged to the side. This last swing had all the student's weight behind it. He sailed past the instructor and felt the counter swing coming to slash from behind. Cavaar smiled when he felt it cut into the back of his neck, because he also felt his own blade connect with Dmitri's leg. He had carried his wild swing through and approximated where the instructor would be. Risky, but it paid off.

“Ha!” Cavaar yelled, seeming to forget that there was blood dripping from the back of his neck. “I got you!”

“Yes,” Dmitri examined the scratch on his leg. “I am grazed, and you are dead... Progress.” His beard made it difficult to read his facial expressions, but there was the hint of a smile. “You anticipated me. Learn to do more of that. Knowledge of your opponent is almost always better than being faster.”

“Almost?”

The instructor frowned. “Some things cannot be anticipated. Now go rejoin your squad.” Cavaar did so, he might have protested or asked more questions before, but not now. Not after Maria.

He remembered watching her delicate frame be overwhelmed and engulfed by the flames and wondering why: why would someone sabotage the Blades of Dawn? They were the only thing that kept the Black at bay when the Cataclysm came, and it would come. Cavaar was aware of some dissenters who thought the Blades were just using the Black as a false pretense for some nefarious purpose, but he knew better. Mareth's eyes and Maria's perfectly preserved body were more than enough to convince him. Could someone be so convicted in their belief to do something like kill Maria? And where would they get the resources to make an explosion big enough to blow apart the gate? Mareth confirmed that those questions were worth asking a few moons after the dawn.

“Some of you may be wondering what happened the month preceding dawn.” Mareth addressed the students, instructors, librarians and staff in the courtyard. The rays reflected off his sword pommel.

“The Blades of Dawn were attacked by someone in this castle, and their act of sabotage resulted in murder. The penalty for such a crime is death.” Even though rays of sunlight were now streaming over the walls into the castle grounds, Cavaar felt it was somehow darker than when it was night. Mareth's eyes swept across the students, he opened his mouth and inhaled quickly. “We have found the perpetrator.” The students gasped. Next to Cavaar, Yarik clenched his fist and ground his teeth. The muscle on his temple bulged, but he said nothing. Cavaar looked back at Mareth, who once again held up a hand. “We will execute him at the proper time. Now the final evaluation should be your only focus. The Cataclysm draws near, and it is this evaluation that will be weighted most heavily. Instead of a single squad attempting to raise a flag, it will be a free for all.” The distant explosion of a hot spring echoed over the walls of the castle into the courtyard, followed by the smell of sulfur. “You will need to work together to be successful… I suggest you get started.”

So Cavaar returned to his squad and prepared to lead the mid-moon run.

  We are going to win, he thought. And then I am going to join with the Black.