Contrary to expectations, Nilah soon became the Crucible’s most popular teacher. Perhaps it was her brash, no-filter approach that endeared her to the students; she was harsh, not hesitating to call out flaws in technique, and always laying out a clear path improvement. Combined with the steady stream of profanities that she spewed, the students came to appreciate her tough love. Her class swelled in size to nearly a hundred eager teenagers.

Nyze proved to be one of her most promising students, yet also her most troublesome. She had a raw talent for fighting with fist and blade alike, which had carried her through many street fights, and had grown an ego to match. Her technique, however, was sloppy and unrefined. Nilah realized she’d have to wring a lot of bad habits out of Nyze before the latter could properly start learning swordsmanship, yet the proud teen was resistant to her efforts. 

This all came to a head one stormy day when Nilah and Nyze were sparring, a few hours after classes concluded. The sky was choked with dark grey clouds that hid the Moons from sight, and driving rain poured down accompanied by bright flashes of wild orange lightning magic and ear-shattering thunderclaps. It was the kind of weather that would have sent any reasonable person fleeing indoors, yet neither Nilah nor Nyze seemed to mind much as they clashed, wooden blade against blade.

“Footwork! Watch your footwork!” Nilah shouted over the fury of the storm.

“Why?” Nyze complained right back. “I should be watching my opponent and working on my blade technique, not staring at my feet!”

Nilah didn’t say anything, simply took a single step forwards and stomped on Nyze’s toes. The redhead yelped out in pain and hopped around on one foot.

“OW! The hell was THAT for?!” she screamed.

“Watch your footwork,” Nilah repeated for emphasis. “Your sword’s not gonna be much help if your opponent treads on your toes or kicks you in the shins.”

Grumbling, Nyze complied. Nilah raised her wooden blade and held it horizontally. “Now, using the three-step approach I taught you, come at me with a vertical swing.”

Begrudgingly paying attention to her feet, Nyze complied. She brought down her blade with extra force, causing her muscles to ache just a bit.

Nilah smiled savagely. “You’re mad at me. Good. Channel that into your strikes. Keep going.”

Ten, twenty, thirty strikes. Nilah made Nyze repeat the motion over and over, burning the footwork into her muscle memory. Around the fortieth strike, Nilah noted the teen was starting to slow down.

“Alright,” she said, lowering her blade, “I think that’s enough for today.”

“I can keep going!” Nyze protested. She didn’t want to give up just when she felt she was starting to get the pattern down.

Nilah shook her head. “Inclement weather saps your energy faster, Nyze. It’s important to know your limits. Go home, dry off, rest, give your brain time to decompress and process what you learned. That’s also an important part of your training.”

Nyze stared at the ground and muttered to herself while Nilah went back inside the school building to grab her things. On her way back out, she saw Nyze practicing the downward strike again in the rain, swishing her blade though the damp air.

“Fuck’s sake,” Nilah muttered. The girl was hyperfocused, and would probably keep practicing that one sword strike until she passed out from exhaustion and cold. She walked over to Nyze and pinched the top of her ear.

“OW!” Nyze yelped as Nilah started pulling her along.

“C’mon, you useless girl. We’re getting you a nice warm shower and a bowl of stew.”

“B-But I’m still practicing! You can’t…” Nyze protested.

“Instructor’s prerogative,” Nilah declared, realizing she had to basically force Nyze to take care of herself. “The well-being of my students is my responsibility. Consider this an extension of your training. Now hustle.”

******

Two hours later, a freshly-showered Nyze sat in Nilah’s kitchen in a bathrobe, slowly eating some piping hot stew while a wide-eyed five-year-old girl standing on a chair opposite the table from her stared owlishly.

Eventually, the girl’s stares became too much for her to ignore. “Can I help you, kid?” Nyze asked.

“Nope!” the girl replied. “I’m just deciding if you’re a bad person or not.”

“Riiiiiiight,” Nyze replied, not sure what to do with her conversational attempt rebuffed. She shrugged and downed another spoonful of stew.
Nilah poked her head out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on the apron. “Don’t mind the kid, she’s just curious. Her name is Xennia, by the way.”

“Nilah!” Xennia yelped. “You can’t just tell her my name right away! What if she’s EVIL?!”

“…I’m not evil,” Nyze said.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Xennia retorted. She hopped off her chair and walked around the table towards Nyze, then started sniffing her. Nyze just stared, wide-eyed, as the little girl contemplated her body odor.

“Hmm…” Xennia said after a few awkward moments, “you don’t smell evil. Okay, I’ve decided. You’re a good person.” She dashed back around the table and hopped back onto her chair, sitting down this time. Nyze was speechless.

“There, you see?” Nilah walked out of the kitchen, bearing a tray of freshly-baked rolls. “You’ve got Xennia’s stamp of approval, Nyze. Congratulations!”

Nyze sighed and set her spoon down. “Nilah, what am I even doing here?”

“Extracurricular activities. I needed to talk to you, but not while you were wet and shivering.”

Nyze folded her arms impatiently. “So talk.”

Nilah sighed. “Okay, so. Nyze. What were you doing out there in the rain when I grabbed your ear and pulled you here for a shower and a bowl of stew?”

“Practicing, obviously,” Nyze replied. “Working on the footwork and strike you showed me.”  

Nilah rolled her eyes. “I told you to go home and rest, though.”

“Rest is important!” Xennia added, her mouth half-stuffed with a bread roll.

“Oy, Xennia. Chew and swallow, THEN speak,” Nilah lectured. “But yes, she’s right. Rest is just as important as exercise, Nyze.”

“But if I kept practicing for another hour, I could have gotten the footwork down!” Nyze protested.

Nilah shook her head. “You were tired, your movements were getting weak and sloppy. Pushing yourself can be a good thing, but pushing yourself too hard just damages your body, and your brain stops retaining information when it’s tired. Knowing your limits is important. Trust me, I’ve got five decades of pulled muscles and sore joints under my belt to prove that point.”

“If I don’t push myself, I’ll never be as good as you!” Nyze replied desperately.

Nilah chuckled. “Kid, I’m in my mid-fifties. I’ve been doing this sh… this stuff for 40 years. You, meanwhile, are a teenager with your whole life ahead of you. There’s no reason to rush and catch up with me. And before you entertain such lofty dreams, you really need to focus on your basics.”

Nyze just stared at the table, glowering. For a few moments, the only sound in the room was that of Xennia noisily chewing. Realizing Nyze was too mired in moody self-pity to speak, Nilah kept talking.

“Look, kid. You want to grow and improve, and that’s a good thing. At the same time, that’s no reason to destroy your health before you hit your third decade. One of the important things I teach is pacing yourself, taking CARE of yourself. That’s just as important as learning how to swing a wooden stick around. Taking breaks and getting rest will help you become stronger too.”

Nyze remained silent.

“You get me, Nyze?” Nilah pressed.

Nyze muttered something under her breath.

“Didn’t catch that.”

“Yes, teacher,” she repeated more audibly.

“Good. Now, these rolls are getting cold. Here, take on and dip it in your stew, okay?” Nilah held a steaming warm roll towards Nyze, who grabbed it and began to gnaw begrudgingly.

“Hey, Nyze, cheer up! This is a happy house, no gloomies allowed!”
Xennia said, wiping her mouth on her sleeve.

“Gods almighty, Xennia, mind your table manners!” Nilah tutted. “This is a civilized household; we’re not demons!”

“Nyeh,” Xennia responded, sticking out her tongue.

As Nyze watched the two of them banter, a small smile crept onto her face.  

******

“You’re right, serpent. Teenage you DOES sound like a brat,” Metokai said, grinning malevolently.

“Oh, c’mon. Like you were any better as a teen, gremlin,” Nyze shot back as she prodded the dying embers of the campfire with a stick.

“No way, I was a very well-behaved teenager. Baphomets mature slower than humans, so our teen phase lasts longer as well. We’re not considered adults until our two hundredth year,” Metokai responded.  

“Hang on a second,” Rixu interrupted. “You’re an adult baphomet, right?”

“Naturally,” Metokai said. “I’m 345 years old. In human terms, I’m in my thirties.”

Rixu clamped his jaw shut, thinking better of saying anything further.

“I know what you were about to say, Rixu,” Metokai said nonchalantly. “You were going to ask why I’m so small if I’m a full adult.”

“Uh…” Rixu looked around guiltily.  

“The usual height range for baphomets is 3’9” to 4’7”. At 4’6”, I’m actually quite tall for my species,” Metokai said with a hint of pride, while Rixu fidgeted awkwardly. “Don’t judge everything by human standards, Rixu.”

“You’re only 4’6” if you count the horns,” Nyze scoffed.

“The horns count, serpent. They are a part of my body,” Metokai retorted with a scowl. “But I digress. My teen years lasted a century, yet I was eminently well-behaved and personable even when addled with hormones.”

“Bullshit,” Nyze retorted. “Teenagers are brats, no matter what.”

“I’m with Nyze, teens ARE brats,” Rixu agreed.

Valex raised her hand like she was in class, before lowering it sheepishly. “Uh, as the only one here with a teenaged kid… I would just like to say, my son is an absolute angel. Not a bratty bone in his body.”

“There, you see?” Metokai gloated. “You just have brat DNA, Nyze.”

“Nyeh,” Nyze responded, sticking out her tongue.

“Excellent impression of Xennia, serpent. Your commitment to bringing the characters in your stories to life is commendable,” Metokai teased as Nyze made a sour expression. “More to the point, it sounds like Nilah was offering sound advice. I myself struggle with taking breaks from my work, especially when hyperfocusing on an important project.”

Nyze nodded. “Yeah, it’s still something I struggle with too. It took me a while to realize the importance of what she was trying to tell me because, well, bratty teenager… but when I realized she was looking out for my best interests, I came to see her as kind of a surrogate mother figure. My biological mother was… not great… so I latched onto Nilah because I was unconsciously seeking maternal affection. On some level she realized, seeing as I didn’t have any family and lived by myself in the dorms. She took me under her wing as her star pupil, and also served me many more hot meals at her house. I got to know her and Xennia very well, and we all became good friends before long. I also considered myself her rival, but that was pretty one-sided on my part, because even after four years of training I couldn’t come close to matching her in combat…”

*******

Nilah zoomed forwards, her body enhanced with warrior magic and her sword aflame, and thrust towards Nyze’s chest. The redhead dodged to the side easily, spinning gracefully around and backstepping to gain some distance.

“Release Magic: Four-Aspected Elemental Arrows!” Nyze shouted. Four orange spell circles appeared behind her, each shooting a different type of elemental magic. Arrows of stone, flame, ice and lightning blasted forth towards Nilah, who raised her palm and effortlessly intercepted them by conjuring a crimson shield. The instant she dissipated the shield, Nyze pressed the attack with a sideways swing directed at her side, which Nilah blocked easily.

“Not bad, Nyze,” Nilah said, grinning as adrenaline pumped through her veins. “You’ve done a great job incorporating magic into your attack patterns. Really leaning into the whole magic swordswoman thing, huh?”

“You know it,” Nyze responded, delivering a flurry of short stabs which Nilah turned aside effortlessly.  

The two continued to trade sword strikes, with Nyze adding elemental attacks to the mix, until a mistaken feint on the teen’s part lead to Nilah landing a hit on her wrist. She grimaced as she dropped her sword, finding the tip of Nilah’s blade an inch from her throat.

“Damn,” Nyze growled. “This was my last chance to beat you.” The graduation ceremony for Nilah’s class was happening this very afternoon, after which she’d be a full-fledged Adventurer and begin journeying across Saimonica in search of well-paying jobs.

“It’ll be a warm day in the Shadowlands before a teenager beats ME,” Nilah responded, smirking. She felt a swell of pride in her chest at just how for her most promising student had come; she’d make one hell of an Adventurer.

“I’m not a teenager anymore! I’m nineteen!” Nyze objected.

Nilah raised an eyebrow. “That still has ‘teen’ in it, last I checked.”

Nilah and Nyze stared at each other for a moment, before both bursting into loud peals of laughter.

“Ohohohoho. I’m gonna miss having you around, kiddo,” Nilah said, wiping her eyes.

“And I’m gonna miss sparring with you… and eating your stew,” Nyze said, ambushing Nilah wish a surprise hug.

“You’re gonna do great things, kid. When you think you’re strong enough, come back to Lyzikanth and challenge me to a duel, so I can kick your ass all over again.”

Nyze let out another chuckle. “Will do, Nilah.”

“And make sure you stop by the house after the graduation ceremony,” Nilah added. “Xennia won’t stop pestering me about having you visit one last time before you wander off to Gods-know-where. We’ll have a big dinner to celebrate.”  

Nyze smiled affectionately. “For sure. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

******

“After that, I spent the better part of a decade moving from town to town, taking any jobs I could while sharpening my sword skills. Eventually, I became famous enough that the Hero Diarn showed up to recruit me into his party and, well… you know the rest,” Nyze concluded as the last sparks of the fire petered out. 

“And you never made it back to Lyzikanth?” Metokai asked.

“Sadly, no. I never thought I was strong enough to beat that old bat, so I didn’t bother,” Nyze said with a twinge of regret.

“Bat?” Metokai asked, confused. “I thought she was human.”

“…It’s a figure of speech. It refers to an old woman,” Nyze explained.

Metokai tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Huh. The batkin might object to that comparison… not to mention the vampires. Best not to use it around demons, serpent.”

“Noted,” Nyze said, feeling a bit guilty. She’d forgotten for a moment that quite a few demon species had animalistic traits; for example, an insectkin or beekin might be insulted by the usual nasty remarks humans made about bugs.

Valex leaned forwards, her fox ears swiveled towards Nyze. “So since we’re going to be in Lyzikanth, are you planning on visiting her?”

Nyze dismissed that quickly. “Nah. I’m certainly a lot stronger now than I used to be, thanks to training with Metokai, but I’m not sure I can match her just yet. Besides, we’re on a mission with a timetable to keep. I can visit her later.”

Metokai, surprisingly, was the first one to raise an objection. “This might be your last chance, serpent. A war is coming soon, and that could last for decades.”

“I agree!” Valex added. “Best to see her now so you don’t have any regrets!”

Nyze shrugged. “I’m not worried, honestly. Nilah’s too badass to die, war or no war; she’s gonna live until she’s 150, and still be kicking student’s asses in the Crucible even then.”

Just then, Rixu let out a loud yawn. The girls turned to stare at him with amusement.

“Getting sleepy over there?” Nyze teased. “Sorry I’m such a boring storyteller.”

Rixu was unapologetic. “You’re a great storyteller, but it’s late. Look, the leading Moon is halfway to zenith.” The first of seven Moons to rise that evening, the Pink Moon, was indeed high above the horizon, indicating it was well past ten o’clock. Nyze’s story had kept them all up later than they’d intended.

“Rixu's right,” Metokai said, rising to her hooves and kicking some dirt onto the still-warm ashes of the fire. “We should turn in.”

Metokai activated the shield wards around the camp to deter any intruders, plus alarm wards to awaken them if anyone approached. Then the four of them crawled and slithered into their sleeping bags.

“Good night everyone,” Nyze said, yawning herself. “Fleep tight.”

Everyone sat up to stare at her.

“Serpent, did you just say…”

“SLEEP TIGHT!” Nyze corrected herself desperately. “I MEANT TO SAY SLEEP TIGHT! I JUST TRIPPED OVER MY TONGUE!” She lolled out her long forked tongue for emphasis; indeed, with its great length and girth, it seemed the kind of tongue one might trip over frequently.

Valex started giggling. “Fleep tight… I like that… ufufufufu…”

“It does have a nice ring to it,” said Rixu, deadpan. “Getting lots of fleep is important for your health, after all.”

“I agree,” Metokai added, unable to keep an evil smirk off her face. “Fleep is important to peak performance in battle.”

“For fuck's sake…” Nyze grumbled. “It was just a slip of the tongue.”
Metokai chortled. “That it was, serpent. And we’re never going let you live it down.”

““NEVER!”” Valex and Rixu chorused.
Nyze let out a wail of existential pain, and the other three basked in the waves of schadenfreude coming off her.

“Well, I’m turning in. Fleep tight, everyone!” Valex said.

“Fleep tight. Good dreams,” Rixu added.

“May your dreams be filled with glorious battles, and your fleep restful and undisturbed.” Metokai added.

Nyze folded her arms and glowered. “I hate all of you.”

A few minutes later, the sounds of bickering were replaced by loud snoring as the four fell soundly afleep.

******

Meanwhile, in a maximum-entropy universe far, far distant from Goezia, Skellish cackled to herself madly.

“‘Fleep tight,’ huh? That’s adorable. I should spread that expression around the multiverse to maximize Nyze’s humiliation. And I know just where to start!”

The Goddess of Entropy, a trickster through and through, projected her influence into one particular universe, one that had mecha instead of magic, and began to work her master plan...