Etraon watched Sirena begin to weep quietly and was about to say something when a heavily armored man, who had been obscured briefly by the shadows of the walls, approached. The emotional air that had begun to build shifted into a strangely ridiculous one as the man moved towards them. Douglas was no small figure but seemed dwarfed before the other man and Etraon realized, that with that much armor, the man had to be a shieldguard, recognizing the large bulk to be that of the men who took up the frontlines in the field. The men who joined the ranks of the shieldguard were built like bears, tall, broad-shouldered, strong, and just about everything about them physically was the size of a mountain. Etraon looked him up and down, but, try as he might, had yet to determine just how much of the armored mass before him was man and how much was metal.

“Father?” Windsor gaped in surprise. Etraon exchanged a startled glance with Aurelius, who seemed just as bewildered that the skinnier boy’s father was such a giant.

The greying blond man was laughing, stepping forward with open arms to embrace his son. Windsor hesitated briefly as he glanced down at the ground, shuffling his feet. Etraon grimaced at the familiar sight of embarrassment, knowing that he himself would more than likely react the same way if his parents were present. The shieldguard paused, seeing his son's reaction, and stepped back to stand next to Douglas. He smiled briefly in understanding of the awkwardness that his son must be going through, though his eyes were a little sad that it had to be so. Windsor grinned sheepishly, relieved. Etraon fervently prayed that no one from the royal family would be in the vicinity. He and Aurelius attracted enough attention on their own within the band under the scrutiny of those that were already gathered. He didn’t need his father, or worse, his mother, coming to watch his assessments.

“Harrison,” Douglas greeted him with a quick nod. “Now there’s no need to cry about accepting your new post, young lady” he said, speaking directly to Sirena who had been trying to wipe away her tears. “They put you into bands for a reason. You'll still sup with your bandmates twice a week, regardless of your post.”

“What?” Six heads turned quickly to stare at Karina.

“We might have forgotten to mention that,” she coughed apologetically. “Your training is only five and a half days a week. You spend your weekends as free time starting tomorrow, and you dine together on both nights of the weekend before returning to your respective posts.”

“So I'll still see them?” Sirena exclaimed, her hands flying to her face with delight as the realization that she didn’t have to choose between her dreams and her newfound friends. “I'll still eat with them, talk with them, laugh with them, and bathe with them-”

“For goodness sakes, Sirena!” Windsor protested, his face scarlet with embarrassment as Harrison’s eyebrows rose considerably. “We most certainly did not bathe together!” Etraon and Aurelius snickered at his reaction, though their faces were a similar shade of red, as was Damon's, though the larger boy remained silent.

“Oops!” Sirena squeaked. “I didn't mean-.”

“Come along now, sweetie. You’re making it worse,” Catherine sighed, ushering her over towards Morgan.

Douglas laughed and moved on to address the others. Etraon gave his bandmate a quick pat of farewell on the shoulder and Sirena winked encouragingly at him, making him smile.

“Right-o,” Harrison began, rubbing his hands together in a business-like way that reminded Etraon very much of Douglas. “Let’s get to it, shall we?”

“You’re a quiet one,” Gavin noted, gesturing to Damon. “This way.” Etraon knew his bandmate well enough to see the barely perceptible expression of surprise that flickered across his face. It was clear, however, that the potential trainers before them didn’t need to know the Kites at all to see such things. “We’re splitting you up,” the hunter explained. “Can’t have you influencing each other, and that sort of thing. Merle, with me?” The archer nodded, following after the hunter as they led Damon off toward the saddled horses that they had left outside the compound.

“I’ll take the girl, if it’s all right with everyone else?” Harrison asked, and, seeing that no one objected, led Catherine away with Oscar grumbling as he followed them.

Reed took Windsor and left the compound no more than a few minutes later. Forde paired up with Philip and took Aurelius, who looked over at Etraon, startled as they both had the same realization that whether by chance or cruel fate, Douglas was left to oversee Etraon’s assessments personally. He pulled Etraon into a brief hug as he left, and from the touch of his cousin’s sweaty palms, Etraon knew he wasn’t the only one who was nervous.

Seeing that the last Kite was feeling particularly self-conscious about the situation, Douglas let slip a gentle smile of encouragement that ghosted ever so briefly across his face.

“Um…sir?” Etraon tried.

“Hmm?”

“Shouldn’t we be leaving? The others have already gone.”

“In due time, your Highness,” Douglas replied apologetically. “The man assessing you has yet to arrive.”

“Pardon?”

“Ah, there he is now.” Douglas smiled, indicating the field.

There was a horse, but Etraon had heard no hoofbeats on the stones. Watching carefully now, he saw that they had come through the grass. The approaching figures slowed, rider sliding from his saddle and landing lightly on his feet to grasp the reins in one fluid motion. As the man came closer, Etraon's jaw dropped with amazement. It was the painter with the unnerving eyes that he had seen in the castle three years ago. Then, as if he could feel Etraon’s eyes on him, the man’s gaze seemed to rest directly on Etraon, making him shift uncomfortably as he felt the full weight of those disarming eyes. It was most definitely him, Etraon thought. No one else’s stare had ever made him feel so uncomfortable.

“Peregreyn,” Douglas greeted the man, with a polite nod.

“Apologies for my lateness. I was otherwise occupied.”

“You and your secrets,” Douglas sighed knowingly. “Well, now that you’re here, shall we get to it?”

“Of course.” And there was the unnerving stare again. “Is everyone gone?” A moment passed in silence before Douglas replied with a faint nod. Peregreyn smiled, satisfied.

“Draw your sword, pup,” Peregreyn instructed calmly, his voice so devoid of any sort of emotion that Etraon was completely caught off guard when the weapon came sailing through the air to land right in his hands.

He stood, shocked for a moment as he realized that Peregreyn had timed the landing of the weapon perfectly with Etraon’s reaction to movement, barely raising his hands. His heartbeat pulsed in his throat and he nodded quickly as he drew the sword, taking care to place the sheath gently on the ground. The weapon was Peregreyn’s, after all, and who knew what the man thought of a trainee who held no regard for a potential trainer’s belongings.

Etraon’s bewildered expression seemed to amuse Peregreyn and he felt shivers crawl down his arm, threatening to make him drop the sword when the sound of Peregreyn’s chuckles reached his ears. He laughed faintheartedly in reply, unsure as to what was happening and feeling an overwhelming, now very distinct need to drop the sword and run away.

“Peregreyn…” Douglas interrupted, his tone cautious.

 “Sir, what am I supposed to do now?” Etraon asked.

“Oh, it’s quite simple, really,” Peregreyn chuckled some more, shifting positions into what appeared to be preparation for hand-to-hand combat. “Fight me.”

“By my great-uncle’s beard,” Douglas swore, “Peregreyn, you cannot be serious.”

“You know how I hate holding back, Douglas,” Peregreyn replied, his eyes searching Etraon’s. Etraon nodded, now sure that the older man had already predicted his next move.

“It’s all right, General Douglas.” Etraon felt his face break with an expression he had forgotten since his childhood, the fierce grin of a challenge accepted. He had allowed just a hint of rebelliousness to come through in his tone, determined to show that Etraon of Zourik would stand up to anyone who challenged him, particularly those with unnerving stares. Peregreyn, as Etraon had predicted by this point, laughed and Douglas sighed, throwing his hands up in surrender.

“The boy’s on fire now, Peregreyn. Do be nice about it when you put it out?”

-----

Author's Note:

xoxo,

Elfarine