"Givsney, in all of his magnificence came to him. And he spoke, 'Hail, fair Ademar. I am the God of your forefathers, upon my breath, you rose, and upon my breath, your enemies crashed against the sands. . ." Clerics 1:10
***
I crashed against the stonework and rolled over three times, two times less than the last swing. I clamored to my knees and parted my hair out of my eyes. The hulking giant of a man who stood before me leered out to the small crowd of Academy students that had gathered around us. I stood up and cracked my neck as I spat on him. He turned his steely gaze over to me and grinned.
"Back for more, eh?"
I placed my hands in front of me as I readied myself. "You had me in the medical ward in one strike last time. I think you're losing your edge."
He stared daggers into me as he raised a fist that blotted out the sun. "Why, you little!"
I jabbed my knee into his groin and raked my fingers across his face. He fell to the ground clutching his eyes as I kicked him in the gut for good measure.
Someone from the crowd cried out, "He's already down!"
I snickered. "I just wanted to leave my mark. Can't have 'em going around confusing me for the common riffraff."
I walked through the crowd and sat back down at my bench. I opened my pack, took out an apple, and bit into it. It was bitter and displeasing to my palette, but I continued to chew on the green skin.
A man in a regal black uniform with neatly parted black hair approached, and my classmates finally decided to disperse back to their benches. He made his way to the end of the courtyard but stopped by my bench. "Ashton Grath, what are you doing?"
I stopped mid-bite and spit the piece of apple to the stone floor. "Eating a half-decent piece of cud, sir."
He sighed and snatched the apple in his palm. In an instant, the apple flew from his hand over the distant wall and he continued to walk towards the front of the benches. He turned around and paused. "So, students, any idea why I brought you to the Academy Courtyard today?"
One hand shot up immediately. The professor sighed and gestured for them to speak. The bright-eyed student smiled.
"No discernible clue, sir!"
The professor placed a hand over his face. "Thank you for your honesty." He was silent for a moment. Birds chirped and the trees swayed. "Do you hear that?"
We all paused and looked around. I looked up. "The birds?"
He shook his head. "No, past the birds, young Grath. The wind. The very force behind their wings. The reason you are all here. Here at the Naval Academy of Hunter's Oath, we teach you to master and control your sails, so one day you may ride that primordial wind to conquest and glory in the name of Warder Illias. Remember that wind. Respect it, and others will respect you."
I stood up and proceeded to walk out of the courtyard. Desmond, the bigger fellow with the scratch marks now adorning his face, grabbed my hand. "Where ya going, you daft git?"
The professor looked up. "I'd appreciate it if you stayed for my entire lecture."
I shook his handoff. "I'd love to stay and listen to you ramble about the bloody wind for another hour, but I've got an apple to find."
As I moved for the door I noticed that the iron ring began to glow blue. Ice had started to form on it. I moved forward to examine it and thunder rolled behind me. When I turned around, I saw them. They rode upon sixteen dread horses covered in grey mail, flashing swords, and bearing lances of flame. When they swooped down the courtyard, the Hells and all their fury came with them.