The next morning, before the sun obliterated the still-lingering mist.
One after another, twenty-one aspirants assembled before the academy gates, each carrying a light pack, a waterskin, and the weapon of their choosing.
Garret stood at the front, lazily leaning upon his twin axes as though the expedition were nothing more than a stroll through a garden.
"Everyone here?" He covered a yawn with his hand.
A senior instructor counted heads. "Twenty-one."
"Good." Garret scratched his scar. "If anyone dies, I'll have to write reports."
Thane frowned. "You're worried about reports? Dumb damned pervert."
Garret retorted without an ounce of regret, "You don't know jackshit about them. They're more annoying than you."
Athenok emerged from the academy, dressed not in ceremonial robes but in a simple traveling cloak. Beside him walked another instructor carrying a rolled map.
