As much as Third preferred classes where he didn’t need to interact with others, he felt particularly bored with the monotone drawl they were subjected to for Government Formations. He knew enough about the subject - and so did everyone else, apparently - to completely zone out and still pass his exams.

So instead of paying close attention to the words being spoken, Third was absently sketching a map of the village and the areas of the dorm he was familiar with. What he really wanted a good, juicy slice of venison. Deer was a staple, richer and more fulfilling than rabbit or vole, and readily available in the forest. Breakfast here was always mush. Lunch was sandwiches - which Third greatly enjoyed when he could - and dinner was usually stew. All things that could be made in bulk for a large number of hungry wolves.

Third’s ears pricked forward when the droning of the instructor in the front of the room touched on an unfamiliar topic.

“In the early formations of the nations, these weapon sets moulded how the ninja, warriors, and even nobility were viewed. The weapon of strength, depicted in early years as a wolf, was key to desert survival.”

Third twitched his tail and decided that yes, it was worth raising his hand and calling attention to himself. This was more important than lunch, and a potential lead - closer than anything they’d found so far.

Professor Mikal didn’t notice right away. It was rare for anyone to ask a question, and much more likely for his students to drift off during class. So long as they succeeded in their practicals the old wolf didn’t much care either way. After a moment of simply staring at Third’s raised hand, he finally said: “You have a question, Black Fox?”

“You said there were weapon sets that defined each nation’s view of ninja, I was just wondering what that meant. ‘Weapon of Strength’ sounds more like magic than anything real.”

One tan-color eyebrow twitched. “Magic is real enough,” the professor grumbled. “Or did you forget that you can shift?”

Third shrugged a shoulder. “Isn’t that science now?” It was explained as magic in the old folk tales still, but the shift was as much like magic as breathing was. “Weapon of strength sounds like a spell that gives someone huge muscles or stupid big weapons; I don’t see desert wolves lugging around giant weapons. That seems silly. Ninja are meant for stealth and heavy weaponry isn’t stealthy.”

The professor nodded, tapping his shoe against the stone floor for a moment and chewing on something that made a loud smacking noise every so often. “You’re right, strength didn’t mean a big weapon. Nor does it indicate - as you say - ‘huge muscles’. In this case, historians believe ‘weapon’ is either a mistranslation or a misappropriation. The ‘weapons’ are more like skills. For example, the seven ninja weapons are strength, silence, hearing, loyalty, knowledge, speed, and ingenuity. Different nations rank these attributes differently, but these are the core ‘weapons’ of a ninja. Additional weapons are listed in various texts throughout history, and even occasionally today a ninja’s talent might be referred to as his weapon. Trace, for example, makes a weapon of information. He is one of our nation’s finest at finding, analyzing, and using data at an incredible speed. He has incredible mental strength.”

Third was attentive, nodding along at all the appropriate places as he made notes on a fresh page. But this wasn’t the knowledge they were looking for. It was possible that they were working off a rumor that was just bad; if the weapon of chaos was a skill rather than a literal weapon, then Third didn’t know what skill it was.

‘Chaos’ wasn’t something that could be taught or inherited. A ninja could have good hearing, or be silent like the captain. Chaos was just chaos. It was something that was created.

“Loyalty is a tricky skill for a ninja, as well, because civilians and warriors - and sometimes even nobility - do not recognize a ninja’s loyalty for what it is. There will always be a person, or a place, or a creature that a ninja is loyal to. There is always someone or something a ninja will not betray. The trick is to find that one loyalty and, if necessary, exploit it.

“For an example of this, please turn to page 195. This is the story of Rajdulari Raunheimer, one of the first known ninja to fall victim to the honey trap method. Rajdulari was loyal to his lord above all else, however a rival ninja was able to convince Rajdulari his lord was in danger. He helped Rajdulari succeed in his mission and return back to his lord in time to save the nobility from a deadly attack, which was likely staged. In return, Rajdulari was asked to fail a mission that seemed insignificant. This continued for some time…”

Third let the professor’s voice wash over him, droning on. Honey traps were easily spotted by captains now, since teams were considerably smaller and the inconsistencies became more obvious. Kidnapping, poison, even drugs or mind-altering techniques were a higher concern to security. Relative peace had settled over the nations, but they still liked to test out their skills every now and again to stay sharp.

The weapon of chaos wasn’t going to be easily found in a class. Third had just been briefly silly to think there might be some hint to their mission given out to rookies in a history lesson. Prime might even scold him for calling attention to himself.

His hand shot out quickly to catch the small paper aimed at his desk, and he lowered his prize so the instructor wouldn’t see the note. Patiently, he waited for the professor to turn his back to the class and for his classmates to lose interest again. After another droning story of Rajdulari, he unfolded the triangle in his palm.

Don’t let Trace hear you say ninjas don’t carry giant hammers. He’ll show you his.

Third rolled his eyes and crumbled the paper up. Trace stayed locked up in some tower somewhere pouring over computer screens and data. The sand would hurt his precious machines too much for him to venture out; it was horrid trying to keep the dust out of equipment even when it wasn’t so incredibly sensitive. Trace probably had heard him, but it wasn’t like he would care.

Right?