Chapter 10
Chapter
Ten
Myself and the other first years were given some time to adjust to our magic before combat training sessions began.
I didn't really need the extra time—I still had no magic to adjust to.
But regardless, those weeks had passed and the first training session was today.
Pia met me at my room so we could walk together.
The early days of fall were approaching, and without the dry heat of summer dehydrating the earth, the grass stayed slick with drops of dew as we trudged through it on our way to the academy.
Sebastian strolled off to join the other head soldiers when we arrived in the combat arena.
In all honesty, I had forgotten he had even walked with us.
I tried my best to ignore him, and we hadn’t exchanged more than a few words since the first day of classes.
He escorted me around the castle grounds when needed, but besides that, we basically pretended that the other didn't exist.
Professor Stoll had given us a brief rundown of what to expect for combat sessions, so I knew what to look for when I arrived.
The arena was separated into five combat rings, each with a large, painted number in the center.
All of the first years would be sectioned into groups.
Each group would be instructed by two of the king's head soldiers, making the odds of Sebastian being in charge of my group slim.
Pia stopped at a wooden board by the entrance. “Thank the gods,” she exclaimed.
My eyes followed her finger pointing out our names under group three.
I sighed a breath of relief, and we made our way to our mat.
We sat down along the padded edge and stretched while waiting for our instructors.
I tried to ignore the staring eyes of my classmates.
Most of the chatter about me had subsided, but not many of the students bothered to talk to me.
Your boot is untied, I mouthed to a girl across the mat.
She stuck her nose up, turning her head and ignoring me.
“Rude,” Pia scoffed loud enough for her to hear, then checked the laces of her own shoes.
We were given combat uniforms that were required for training.
The uniform was small and tight, designed without any extra material for your opponent to grab on to.
The men’s outfits were essentially the same except for longer, slightly looser shorts.
I shifted uncomfortably and pulled the fabric of my shirt away from my flesh.
I hated the way it hugged every part of my body, emphasizing the curves of my stomach that I wasn't particularly fond of.
My eyes rose as I saw Jocelyn waving in my peripheral vision. I waved back, hoping she was one of my instructors, but my eyes sank as they followed her to mat two. The shorter of the two soldiers that I had seen Sebastian with at the gala followed behind her.
His name, according to Pia, was Kohen Sharpe, and I couldn't help but notice the way her lips fought back a smile as he walked by.
I raised an eyebrow at her, but she shouldered me with a warning.
I rose to my feet along with the others in my group as the rest of the soldiers entered the arena. One by one, they walked right past mat three.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered under my breath as Sebastian approached my group.
He gave me a side eye like he heard me, and a part of me hoped that he did.
“Good morning, everyone. In case you don't know me, I'm Sebastian Hawthorne. And this,” he gestured to the other soldier I had seen him with, “is Sawyer Sinclair.”
Sawyer nodded, not offering us even a hint of a smile as his gaze skimmed the crowd. He appeared much more serious today than when I saw him laughing at the gala. The way his eyes narrowed on me sent a rush of distress cascading through my vertebrae.
“Morning. Welcome to Combat Training. Seb and I will be your instructors for the remainder of the year.” Sawyer locked his hands behind his back and began pacing around that mat.
“This course is designed to kick your ass.
If you don't leave today's session bruised and in pain, then you didn't work hard enough.” He proceeded to tell us the expectations for class and the next thing I knew, we were in the depths of training.
The drills were designed to work every muscle in our bodies. Within minutes of the first exercise, my forehead was dripping sweat and my body ached deep into my tendons.
One man threw up not even half an hour into the session. Another student tripped during our run and snapped her ankle. One of the healing students tried to fix it, but she ended up needing to be escorted to the infirmary.
Pia elbowed me gently. “I’ve never broken a bone, and really don’t want to after seeing that,” she whispered.
Today's training mainly focused on endurance, with a bit of strength work added in towards the end of the course.
I handled the drills better than most others in my group, but was still completely overexerted by the time I had a chance to glance at the clock.
The session was almost over—and a good thing—my body couldn't handle any more today.
Pia, along with the others, were getting ready to pack up.
I made for my rucksack to do the same, passing by Sawyer on my way.
He whispered to Sebastian, who nodded in response.
The two of them then moved past me and positioned themselves in the center of the combat mat. The other students and myself froze.
“Did we say you could pack up?” Sebastian snarked. “We aren't done yet.”
Groans over having to exert more energy filled my ears.
“We don't usually start sparring practice until the third or fourth session, but given the circumstances, Seb and I think it would be a good idea to introduce you all to some basics of combat,” Sawyer announced, a single eye raking over me.
Circumstances? I hope he means the issue of Draemor and not the issue of me.
Sawyer patrolled around the mat, his hands crossed behind his back. “Any volunteers?”
To my surprise, a dozen hands shot up, eager to be the first to learn some techniques for battle. I kept my arms tightly against my sides.
Sawyer reviewed the candidates, shaking his head. “No. No. None of you.” He tapped his finger on his chin, pacing back and forth in front of us. “Willawood!” he bellowed, making a sharp turn of his body and marching to where I stood.
My heart knocked against my ribcage, but I didn't have time to protest. Before I could even truly acknowledge what was happening, Sawyer had my hand in his and was pulling me to the center of the mat.
I caught Sebastian's eyes as they widened. “Woah, Sawyer, wait—”
“Relax, Hawthorne,” Sawyer drawled, releasing my hand. He backed up, putting himself a few feet from me. “She’s the strongest of all of us. Isn't she?” he said, and I did not like the sarcasm in his tone.
“Actually, I don’t think I’m the best fit for—”
“I'm going to show you all some basic offensive and defensive moves that you will eventually utilize in real life combat,” Sawyer cut me off as he addressed my classmates.
My mouth filled with saliva. Shouldn't he have been doing this demonstration with Sebastian?
“Take your stance,” he ordered me, his eyebrows sinking into his skull.
I honestly had no idea what to do, but clenching my hands into fists and raising them defensively seemed like a good place to start.
“Willawood here, will show you all her best attempt at defense,” Sawyer sneered. As soon as the words slipped from his lips, he was behind me, kicking the sole of his boot into the back of my right knee. My legs swung out from under me, and I landed face down on the mat.
“Hey! What the—” I rolled to my back and tried to sit up, but before I could, Sawyer straddled me, pinning my arms to the mat beneath me.
“Woah, woah, woah! Hey, Sawyer, come on. That's not what we talked about,” Sebastian yelled from the edge of the ring.
Sawyer ignored him, tightening his grip on my wrists so hard I swear he could have cracked them.
“Ow.” I struggled underneath him.
“Now would be a good time to utilize any weapons you have on you, or your magic.” He flashed me a devious smile. “If you have any.”
Dick.
His comment struck a match of rage inside of me.
I rolled my shoulder over fast, managing to break one arm free from his grip.
I used it to grab the back of his neck and fisted his hair, pulling down as hard as I could.
I slammed his forehead into the mat beside me, then rolled out from underneath him and jumped to my feet.
Pia was the only one who cheered from the crowd. The others watched us in dead silence.
Sawyer rose, his teeth barred.
I smirked back tauntingly. I'm sure he wasn't expecting me to embarrass him like that.
He growled as he lunged for me, grabbing me by the shoulders and whipping me around so my back was pinned against his chest. He held me there and tightened his grip, squeezing my stomach so hard that if I had just eaten, I would no doubt be throwing it up.
“In this move—” He squeezed me tighter as he spoke to the class. “If you have a dagger on your hip, you may just be able to reach it and stab your opponent between the ribs.”
I gasped as his hands locked around me, compressing my body so tight that I could barely draw a decent breath.
“Sawyer, that’s enough.”
Sawyer ignored Sebastian’s plea and instead jostled his arms to try and adjust his grip.
He released his hold just enough for me to slide one of my arms between us and uppercut him in the jaw.
His teeth rattled against each other, and his arms released me to clutch his chin.
I dropped my body down and backed away, raising my arms to block him should he try to strike me again.
Sawyer cracked his neck, scowling at me from across the mat. He stood as still as a corpse, just watching me.
Was that it? Was he done?