Voraciously I consume the books of war, always war. Half of mankind's history is written with red. Such volumes of carnage and logistics taught me that on parchment all pns are good; but as soon as the battle starts, throw all your pnning into the fire. You will get some warmth that way, at the very least.

  Regardless, this truth I know; were my soldiery in need of food and water they would perish. My retribution the same.

  ------------------------------------------------------------------

  Year four

  The first half of the day is often reserved for tempering the body. Sandy courtyard enveloped by a marble peristyle, this gymnasium is located on top of a small mesa—the rock formation strangely reminds me of home. Maybe because of its shape. Can't say, really.

  My back is turned to the gargantuan warm reddish facade: the awe-inducing carved triquetra; the triangur tympanum and its vortex of countless naked human forms emerging from nothingness; the long frieze, with its savage scenes of war; the mighty pilrs, forming a monumental portico; the two bckest banners of nanilu and the bursting violet and iron gray phoenix embzoned upon them, always gently fpping in the high winds. The face of the Academy is now effortlessly summoned by my mind's eye.

  I throw a gnce to my right. Northward is the faint red dot of Sol. So close and so far. Scores of craklers noisily fly away from this rocky sea, going skyward, and then who knows where.

  The girl I'm to wrestle with is strong. We had a small competition, and Tomoe and I came on top. Other eleven girl students sit in the sand around us. The boys, occupying the other side of the gymnasium, didn't earn their break yet, but many steal risky gnces at our incoming little bout.

  Like the rest of the students up here, Tomoe and I are dressed in the fine, blue, strong, double-stitched woolen tunics that end above the knees and are a nice graspable surface for when you want to throw someone across the sands of a gymnasium.

  As the Grandmaster of Physical Education signals the start, our bodies grapple. Grandmaster Maximon doesn't comment during the matches themselves, but after they end he always has a copious amount of criticism.

  Grandmaster Vidar is in charge of early years students. Can't say I miss the brown-bearded bastard. A few more years with him and I'd have the legs of a horse. Hmmm...maybe not a bad thing. Could I outrun one?

  Ah, yes. Pulling hair, a punch between legs, or throwing sand in the eyes will get you to lose immediately—with the possible addition of sleeping in the dungeon for a few nights.

  She is overly aggressive and without pause. She tries to trip me by pcing her leg behind my left knee.

  Tomoe is incredible but it is pointless. Or it would be, were I to choose so.

  I make it a close match.

  After a short span(about the time it takes me to read three pages of a book) of continuous strain, she is near colpse; and I make a deliberate effort to slouch and breathe deeply through my mouth.

  In some stories my mother used to read to me, what now seems half a century ago, the hero would fight for days before showing the slightest signs of exertion. I might not understand what is wrong with me(You know...I'm using the word very, very loosely, mind you—nothing wrong with being strong and fast), but overall, those stories are a complete nonsense. A necessary exaggeration. I know I'm no hero or some such. Which is good, their tales often being tragic and all. Because in the end, a hero is loved and accepted by the people. Again, nonsense. People will always be afraid of what they don't understand, such is life. The unknown is the dark; the unknown is something to be feared. Were I to reveal myself I would be chained or killed. And mother and father? What would happen to them? Parents of a demon daughter. Isoted. Eviscerated from all people. Thrown to beg for bread somewhere. Can't have that.

  Suddenly I rex all my muscles, and that was all she needed. With some of her st bursts of strength, Tomoe throws me down and feeds me sand.

  My right arm becomes twisted with her on top.

  ''I yield.'' I spit sand as my sand-filled eye burns with tears.

  Tomoe gets up slowly and offers her hand. ''Well fought, Red.'' Her stance seems shaky.

  I firmly grab her wrist and let her half lift me up. ''Thank you.''

  ''You know, you are much heavier than you look,'' Tomoe states quietly.

  I raise my left eyebrow at that.

  A while back, soon after my mother told me I was ''spindly'' and how I needed to eat more, I asked Hebe about it and she told me I am sinewy of body. What's more, in the shower cavern, we wash each other's backs, and more than once Hebe pointed out how mine are well-defined and as if made of smooth stone. So...I guess I am...skinny, lithe, and portly?

  The rest of the girls seem to be in quiet contemption. I expected them to jeer or make some comments but they are strangely quiet instead. A few of the boys paused in their exertions and cpped to Tomoe's victory. Their overseer gives them a cp of his own; his thin stonewood stick hard at work, all the while throwing colorful curses involving the students' family members.

  One tall boy with blue eyes is looking at me for a few heartbeats, almost unfazed by the blows falling across his back and by the impressive profanities.

  I move to a nearby barrel and scoop some water with my palm, removing the sand out of my fming eye.

  ''Now, can any of you tell me which mistakes you spotted?'' Grandmaster Maximon regards the css, all the girls standing now.

  ''Tomoe spent most of her energy at the beginning and was too aggressive, while Anaya hesitated too much,'' Lana says. She has bright yellow hair and pale brown eyes and a void for a heart. She might have my mother's name but sadly that is all they share.

  ''Not bad, Furia. If you applied some of that sharp mind during your matches perhaps you wouldn't be commenting now.'' Some girls suppress a chuckle at that. He then turns his gaze on Tomoe. ''You must learn to use your strength patiently and strategically.''

  Grandmaster Maximon redirects his gaze somewhere into the distance and behind the group of students. ''Sadly I firmly believe not even the Supreme Goddess could teach young people the value of patience. How does water carve through rock?'' he asks. I assume himself. ''Drop by drop.'' I assumed correctly. ''Patience is worth one's weight in bloodsteel. Of course, youths will always ck it.''

  Her arms crossed, Janna Erdene, the pale and quiet girl that fainted during our second year, simply rolls her eyes. A few other girls do the same.

  He then turns to face me. For a blink or two, he leers quite south from where my eyes are. ''Hesitation is the mother of failure. As they say. Bolormaa you keep reaching the edge of glory but it always slips out of your embrace. You need to garner more confidence.''

  I nod in acknowledgment. ''Yes, Grandmaster.''

  ''Tomoe Hanabira,'' the old man looks at her again, ''a piglet will be sent to your family. Good work.'' And then to the rest of us, ''That is all for today. Dismissed.''

  There were days when we would be lectured more than sculpting our bodies. Gymnasiums are also a pce where we would listen to endless preachings of the grandmasters and were often encouraged to question or even debate their words. The most mundane topics would be discussed. It was unusual to talk about art and philosophy in a pce meant for physical strain.

  Soon is our time to go back inside the cliff and wash with the cold kisses of the shower cavern, and then off to other csses deep inside.

  ''Why not win?'' Gabriel, that dark-blue-eyed boy that stared, approaches me.

  Gabriel is one year older than me, and despite him being tall I'm almost the same height. And even though him being recently clean-shaven his cheeks are already bewhiskered, forming a dense stubble. I focus my eyes away from his cheeks and onto his close-cropped hair, bcker than the forgottenmost of corners the Great Library has. I know he mostly prefers it longer.

  ''Ah yes, just win. If only I could've thought of that.'' My wry expression seems to have left him annoyingly unfazed. I wipe some more sand from my neck.

  ''You hold back. Many girls and even some boys look up to you, some even try to copy your movement, but you don't seem to notice or care. Don't hold back.''

  ''You don't know what you are talking about.''

  ''Your breathing became perfectly normal once everyone stopped paying attention to you. Only now it's slightly faster because of me.''

  I scoff at his arrogance. ''You think too highly of yourself.''

  Gabriel's unbroken gaze is creating freezing tingles throughout my guts. His eyes remind me of my first day at the Academy. The same deep blue I saw on the ceiling frescoes of the rge entrance corridor Aleera and I walked through. The blue some stories cim the sky once was made of. ''What I mean is, you pretend to be exhausted. Goddess, there is not even a little sweat on you, only a bit of water.''

  ''Perhaps you should mind your own troubles and not bother me.'' I keep my voice low as my hard stare spears through him.

  ''I meant no offense.'' His smile is sad and somehow charming. As he moves to leave there are slight cracks in his confidence. ''In the end, I only wanted an excuse to talk to you, that is all.''

  After a few strides Gabriel throws one st dark-Cobalt gnce and is met with my slightly confused gre.

  Walking away, he says, ''Don't forget to continue with the heavy-breathing act, by the by.''

  ''Wh---'' words are difficult to grasp, and I find none. Not a heartbeat passes, and Gabriel is gone.

  To the Void with you, Horatius.