The first batch of training ended with the cry of the rooster, a sign for the next group to be ready without prompting. Oorja was responsible for the beginning, reaching the carefully cordoned training ground to greet the moon farewell as he recognised it as the crack of dawn. None of the younger ones ever came to his class, hoping against hope that the rooster would choke to death or maybe just fall asleep enough for them to complete their dreams. The only silver lining to their allotted set was that it was overseen by Minar, who wouldn’t make them march into the woods if they missed a minute in punctuality. 

The fact that she used more creative methods as consequences of tardiness was still a strong deterrent but subtle.

“Bend your waist not your back,”  Ezhil heard as he ran in, combing his fingers through his hair and cursing under his breath when he saw that the session had already begun. The regular exercises were being handled by Tejo, who was busy leading the group through the motions herself. It was supposed to be his turn to lead and this only meant that he was going to face extra trouble later. Maybe Tejo being his stand-in was the punishment in itself, he considered and schooled his face to neutral when the group turned for the snake curve. 

“Are you going to keep wasting time or start?” Minar commented without turning back from where she was guiding Nami into the correct elephant posture. Imay was following her, copying the movements a bit better than Nami was, and his eyes didn’t stray when their instructor spoke. Nami’s almost did but she looked red in the face and determined to not fall behind. Ezhil bent down to the ground, touching it before touching his chest and entered the arena, moving around the usual class now finishing their preliminary stretches. He caught sight of Saakhi lounging on the veranda of the inner hall, chewing a stick idly as she waved at him. He nodded at her before joining Tejo, going about his routine salutations at the side. 

Training was on varying scales for all the residents of Swatan, preliminarily for fitness though his mother said that it was another way of bringing people together. She took the first shift, perfectly fine with Oorja’s drills before she would go with the others to collect the coconut palm leaves needed to weave. Ezhil trained to become a knight some day. Not one for any leader but a rogue, fighting for anyone who needed help. He’d make a name for himself that way. 

“Ezhil and Tejo,” Minar decided a while later, as the sun descended on them with a considerably gentle warmth. They were gathered in a circle, waiting on the pairing to spar. Toya, Minar’s pet squirrel from hell, had found his way to her from wherever he spent his night and she ignored him cuddling against her arm as she sat on the upturned wooden tub near the veranda. Tejo took a deep breath before stepping forward and Ezhil mirrored her, both of them walking toward the centre of the ground before turning to Minar to offer their respect first. She reached down beside her feet and picked up two short poles, throwing at them as their weapons. They caught it in one hand and moved to face each other, both clad in their warrior-style dhotis and barefoot. Tejo’s eyes were sharp but calm and Ezhil waited for the signal, his right palm gripping his pole lightly.

At Minar’s crack with her own pole, they began, sticks coming up to hit in the air. They’d transition to swords and shields if they had time, or have those in the next session. Ezhil preferred his sword to the stick, liking the grip of the handle much better than the hard reed. His arms locked as he blocked a hit, bending backwards before pushing off and advancing. Tejo was quick, her feet faster than her arms and she used it to her benefit just enough to distract the opponent from catching on to her disadvantage.  The mud pooled between his toes as he kicked off to use a leaping hit and Tejo moved with the projectile, turning his stick away from her head with her own counter. She’d tire him out before attacking from her side, he knew this. Her wrist was her weak spot even if her upper arm strength kept her from backing away against blows. 

He bit back a flinch when her stick swept under his feet and jumped in time, keeping his balance as he landed on the ground to block the blow to his side. He really didn’t want to lose today.

Five minutes later, he refused to look at Tejo as he surrendered his stick to a junior, in no mood to see her gloating at the victory. 

“You’d do better if you came to class on time,” she said nevertheless as they moved back to their spots in the outer circle, watching the next set take cue to fight. 

“Is that why you never clear your tests at Jevadhi?” he muttered in reply, tying his hands behind his back and getting into place beside Nami. 

“I would gladly swap places with you and let you clear Matamahim’s tests,” Tejo shot back, her white shirt dusted with the mud from the ground, “Besides, practical training is so much better.”

“What training? We never get scored or compete, all we do is routines,” Ezhil side-eyed Minar and looked forward, “Besides, I’d rather get trained by someone who actually was a professional. Like a real knight.”

“I think she’s good,” Nami spoke up and he shot her a glance to see her excitedly watch the match, “She’s straightforward, helpful, and disciplined. Plus she was a princess.”

“Exactly,” Ezhil snorted lightly, “A princess. Not a knight or a warrior. Now, Saakhi, she’s a real knight. She was invited by the Aga Angara to join his troop too, wasn’t she?”

“That’s not even a comparison,” Tejo shot back in a hissed whisper, always with her defence of her favourite senior, “You’re just annoyed because you lost today.”

“I bet Saakhi would beat her in half our time,” Ezhil claimed confidently, “You can’t put them on the same level.”

“I agree,” they heard and all three of them startled before turning to see a grinning Saakhi eavesdropping on them. She waved at Tejo cheekily before turning to Ezhil.

“How much are you betting?”

“What?”

“You said you’d bet,” she explained, continuing even as the rest of the class now paid attention to the new commotion, “How much?”

Ezhil looked over at Minar but she was focused on the pair doing their routine, one hand idly scratching at Toya’s colourful fur. It was a giant compared to the common squirrels, an imprint of the rainbow through a dark base with a long tail that would specifically startle him when it brushed past him on occasion. 

“You can’t bet coins,” Tejo reminded him with a quick look Minar’s way, “Are you crazy?”

“Not confident enough?” Saakhi raised her brow at the teenager and Ezhil grinned, seeing the way it riled Tejo up, “I’m up for food if not coins.”

“One basket of jackfruit,” he wagered, adding when Saakhi squinted at him, “Peeled and cleaned.”

Saakhi raised her hand to offer him a high five and both of them looked at Tejo expectantly. Nami was looking between them with a curious expression but she had drifted closer to Tejo during the conversation. 

“Let’s do it,” she insisted, bumping her shoulder against the student from Jevadhi, “I’ll help you.”

Tejo looked over her shoulder at Minar for a second before exhaling and turning back to face them. She nodded and stuck out her hand, shaking it firmly when Saakhi agreed. 

“Teacher Minar!” Saakhi called out and raised her hand to make the others pause as she walked through the ground towards the trainer sitting on the veranda, “How about we make the class a bit more interesting? I’ve just got a fascinating suggestion and I’d like to see how it goes.”

Minar eyed her before shooting a look towards the troublemakers who had placed the wager. Ezhil kept his poker face but felt Tejo widen her stance beside him. 

“Come on, it’ll be fun and the kids will get a real feel of a fight,” Saakhi insisted, waggling her fingers at Imay till he threw the nearest stick for her to catch, “Besides, they’ll learn better if they see their teacher face someone worth a match.”

“This isn’t to fight,” Minar reminded, tilting her head up to consider the challenging smirk thrown her way, “Training is to be prepared. Not flaunt.”

“Well, that’s no fun,” Saakhi countered and now the others were getting interested too, looking amongst themselves, “Do you need an official challenge? Because I think your students might be embarrassed if you walked away from a perfectly reasonable training opportunity.”

The murmurs were hushed but clear and Minar didn’t look fazed by them, instead looking over to Imay who simply shrugged his shoulder with an amused quirk of his lips. When Saakhi didn’t budge, Minar finally got up, Toya scurrying away from her at the movement. Picking up a pole from the ground, she straightened up and moved forward to the middle of the ground. 

“Do we need rules?” Saakhi asked as they stood against each other, one wrist resting over the pole as she tapped her fingers against her thigh. Minar held her stick in her right, her shoulders at ease and in line with the calm focus in her eyes. 

“Maybe don’t die,” Imay suggested from the sideline and Saakhi pointed at him with a nod before hefting the pole into her hand. 

“Good rule,” she agreed and got into position, a bright glint in her eyes, “Ezhil, keep score, will you?”

Minar was taller than Saakhi and it was the first thing he noted well when they began the match. Her shoulders were wide, arms built to lift heavyweights as they showed outline through her kurta’s sleeves. Saakhi’s fingers were deft and controlled as they spun the stick every which way needed to shield and deliver, alternating between sharp and subtle. They were a contradiction in sight, Saakhi ducking and bending with a skilled ease in flexibility while Minar cut through speed with stable feet. It was volatile air clashing against solid soil and Ezhil heard a few whoops from the others with every successful shot. 

When Saakhi threw her stick to the ground as she rolled to escape a hit, she picked up the sword placed in the training pile and got back to her feet. Minar didn’t flinch at the change in weapon and shifted her grip on her stick at the double spin attack, blocking the swifter speed without complaint. 

“That’s unfair!” Tejo commented and Ezhil disagreed.

“That’s clever,” he pointed out. Minar bent over backward to miss a clean slash and pressed her palms against the ground to jump back onto her feet, flicking her feet up to toss the training mace nearby. Saakhi charged ahead and let out a noise of appreciation at the smooth curve that put Minar on her side, perfect for a hit against her legs. 

“Envoy from Torni!”

Ezhil watched Saakhi take advantage of the sudden disruption and sweep Minar’s feet from under her. They were almost on the ground when Minar caught hold of Saakhi’s arm, twisted around and turned to land on top of her instead on the ground herself. 

Looking up, she saw the messenger and leaned back, still sitting atop Saakhi. 

“Who?” she asked and Saakhi huffed out a rush of breath as she turned to see the messenger too. 

“The younger Lamhan, Saneh Jora,” the boy said, eyes worried, “And the crown princess of Odho is with him too.”

“Princess Yaali?” Imay asked as he stood up with the others who had settled down to watch the match, looking surprised when Ezhil saw him.

The messenger nodded and Ezhil frowned at Tejo as he wondered why Torni’s people were at Swatan. He definitely didn’t want to know why Yaali Lavana was there with them. 

Minar nodded and looked around at her class. 

“Everybody, get back to work,” she ordered and nobody disobeyed, dispersing without much delay. Ezhil, Tejo, and Nami stayed behind and walked towards Imay. 

Saakhi shared a look with her brother before watching Minar get off her, getting to her feet on her own. Minar didn’t wait for them and left with a grim expression, her shoulders tense now. 

“You lost,” Tejo pointed out and Saakhi let out a distracted hum before offering them a wave of her fingers. 

“Technically he did,” she said and Ezhil sputtered but she was already jogging away after Minar, Imay following at a slower pace. Tejo let him be annoyed for a second before holding Nami’s hand as she led them to the main gate, ready to see what this new development really meant. 

When they got to the gate, the leaders were already there and Minar was making her way to stand beside them. Saakhi was a few feet behind, sharing whispers with her brother even as she watched the leaders with an alertness that belied her casual stance. Piba was behind Leader Gunshi, holding a stack of wood and he didn’t budge when the Por siblings moved over to stand beside him. 

On the other side of the gate stood the young prince of Torni, on his chestnut horse and the regal blue garments magnificent under the clear sky. To his right was the main guard, an intimidating looking man who was glaring holes into everyone he saw. To Saneh Jora’s left was a white stallion and atop that sat the frost princess herself. 

Yaali Prabhat looked resplendent in her black and red clothes, her favoured oval ruby resting placidly in the forehead jewellery that covered her hair parting with silver filigree work. Though her appearance projected calm, her stature and poise screamed distance in a way that would cost a foolish man too high if he were to ignore. The gossip of her being a personification of judgement wasn’t too far off with the way her eyes stared straight ahead. 

It didn’t bode well, Ezhil thought to himself, that her gaze was centred on Minar and nobody else.