Liara was back to being my guide the next day, and I couldn't help but notice the dark circles under her eyes or the sluggish way she moved while we strolled out of the tower.
"Pulled an all-nighter, huh?" I teased.
"Don't start." She stifled a yawn. "It's too early in the day for complaints."
"I didn't say anything."
"You were about to tell me off for leaving you in the tower while I—"
"Went out to train by yourself?" I shrugged. "Nah, I wouldn't do that. We both know you need the training more than I do."
Liara showed me an inverted peace sign which was the elven equivalent of the middle finger. I responded with a wet willy into her right ear—an act that annoyed most pointy-eared races—and then ran away from the she-elf before she could retaliate.
"That's it. I'm turning you into a popsicle, Wisdom!" she threatened while she chased after me.
I laughed over my shoulder and yelled, "You snooze, you lose!"
As I ran away from Liara, a wide grin grew on my face. It felt refreshing to have someone close at hand that I could tease and rely on who wasn't Divah. And, it's only been a couple of days, but all this time I've spent with Liara might mean I'd finally made a friend. My first one since that first death.
Our fooling around continued all the way to Fighter's Pit Three, which was that same large open-air venue I'd noticed back when Draken and his lackeys picked a fight with us three nights ago. It was built like an old amphitheater; raised seats encircling a sandy pit with wooden pillars covered in protective runes rising out of the pit's four cardinal directions.
Within this sandy arena, teenagers in the barest of clothing trained together in pairs while pitting axes against shields, swords against spears, and fists against well-toned abs. Seriously, they were wearing zero protective gear with only their undies and their cloaks to shield them from the chilly morning air.
Every one of these apprentice novices turned their heads in our direction the moment Liara and I appeared which was also when she'd caught me in a headlock. Funnily enough, most of the males in the pit sent me looks of deepest loathing, which I guessed was because the pretty elf maiden had my head wrapped between her arm and her, well, you got the picture.
"Someone's popular," I teased.
Liara squeezed my neck some more. "Maybe they just don't like you. I can relate."
"You're late, Mr. Wisdom." Doomsday's eight-foot, oversized frame appeared between me and my view of the pit, blotting out the glares that had been aimed at me. "You should tighten your chokehold around his larynx some more, Ms. Lockwood. Wouldn't want our newest apprentice to slip away again."
Doomsday's half-naked students laughed, although I didn't think his joke was very funny. For her part, Liara did as the 'Master of Physical Education' instructed, and I found myself turning red from lack of air and not just because the brazen display of skin around me was making me blush.
"Tap… out!" I gasped.
A short while after she let me go, Doomsday instructed me to strip down to my undies too, which I was forced to do in front of Liara whose cheeks got slightly redder than normal.
"This is becoming a regular thing for us, huh," I joked.
She sighed. "Please don't remind me…"
"Not that I mind this Spartan-style training." I placed my pile of clothes on the seat next to hers. "Fighting without armor's kind of cool too, isn't it?"
She eyed me curiously. "Based on your performance at the Crucible, I expected you were the kind of hardcore spellcaster who avoided physical confrontation."
This was a bias that existed only because Liara and everyone else couldn't remember my first and second turn on the Crucible. "You should have noticed by now, but I live to defy expectations."
"Just don't go getting yourself maimed before we finish raiding the rest of the Academy's secrets," she instructed.
"Wow, I felt genuine concern there," I chuckled.
Liara's playful smirk shifted into an encouraging smile I'd never seen before. "Go get 'em, tigersaurus."
While Liara yawned in her seat like she had nothing better to do but to hang around and watch Apprentice P.E., I was given a round wooden shield and blunt-edged sword by one of Doomsday's assistants and then told to join the group of scrawny, miserable-looking blue cloaks who stood opposite a line of buff, enthusiastic-looking red cloaks in the sandy pit.
"Whether you be a mage, rogue, or warrior, it is necessary for all would-be adventurers to be competent in the tactic of a shield wall," Doomsday's voice boomed from his referee's seat, the XXXL size wooden chair that was barely enough to fit his massive bulk. "The shield wall is the first line of defense against the hungry hordes of monsters waiting to tear you apart and feast on your rotting corpses!"
This earned him a cheer from the warriors while groans escaped my companions' lips.
"It is the stratagem that will keep you, mages, alive long enough for you to cast your spells in support of the warriors who protect you," Doomsday added, and I couldn't help but hear just a hint of bias in his tone. Pure warrior builds were often derisive of the more delicate style of the arcane arts.
I glanced sideways at my fellow mages and noticed how pale their faces got with each passing second of Doomsday's speech.
"Who lives and who dies—your shield wall shall decide," Doomsday finished.
Master Doomsday wasn't being literal, of course, but that didn't matter to these apprentice mages who were now shaking in their boots.
'Great, this will be a slaughter…' I grinned mischievously. "Or not..."
Apart from simply understanding the value of a shield wall, I realized Doomsday was trying to teach our mage class a lesson on physical confrontation too. At least that's how I justified this one-sided bullying that was about to occur. Still, while the nine other apprentice novices on my line wore varied expressions of dread on their faces, I was all giddy and bouncing on the heels of my feet. This was exactly the opportunity I was looking for—an underdog challenge that would allow me to show off my fighting skills in a way that would break the bias people were beginning to form about me. I'm all about the disruption after all.
The gong sounded, and a cry of "Shield wall!" rang out.
While the ten red cloaks set their shoulders against each other and raised their shields in near-perfect sync, my companions scrambled to follow a step too late, with most of them barely managing to raise their round shields high enough to cover their necks. This earned our group some nasty jeering from the sidelines. Words like "Cannon fodder," "Draugr meat," and "Veslingr," reached our ears, sapping away what little courage our group seemed desperate to hold onto.
"Don't worry," I said to the blue cloak next to me. "I'll shut them up good for you."
The red cloaks moved as one, with each of their steps bringing their well-formed shield wall closer and closer to our messy line with cocky leisureliness. As if they were giving us ample time to get more nervous, which worked. Seriously, the teen mages on my line were seconds away from bolting right into a failing grade.
"Quickness is the essence of warfare," I recited one of my favorite Sun Tzu quotes, which was also the only war cry to escape my lips before I broke our shield wall and charged the enemy on my own—a single blade against a tide of raised shields.