The sun rose gracefully high up in the skies, golden rays of light seeping through the ever-moving clouds and the crevices of leaves of trees.
The time was about 10.30am in the morning and the students were getting ready to begin their combat training.
Fencing was going to be their first indulgement as why battle vulgarly with a sword when one can't be as curt as a gentleman first?
At the end of the first training, they will receive their Seals, marking the onset of their initiation, formally, into the Leading Levels.
The initiated students will start at the first Leading Level, the Ordinary.
As Ordinaries, they will be ushered into the art of combat and war.
The students will have to undergo rigorous training in swordsmanship, weaponry and the like.
********
Clinks from the clashing of the blades of the could be heard from a distance as one stood in front of Qichi Lake Academy Gymnasium.
The students watched on as Master Daquan, the combat master, demonstrated the basic acts of fencing.
He had on a white foil lamé conducting vest, a white jacket as well, boots, and a mask.
In Qichi Lake Academy, Master Daquan's level of fencing was considered the highest anyone had ever reached for quite a long time.
He had been assessed countless times to ascertain that fact.
With a thin, long steel blade, the sabre had a bell over the pommel to prevent slashes across the wrist of the individual holding the sabre.
The lesson took place in the Qichi Lake Academy Gymanasium, a large building with an uncanny facsimile to a military training center.
The person going up against Master Daquan was a young man of average fencing mastery level.
One could discern how the match was about to go but Master Daquan had already promised to go easy on the fellow.
Kiefer heard someone giggle behind him on the floor he sat.
He, as well as his fellows, were all in their fencing outfits, their masks by their side or craddled in their laps as they sat on the marbled floor.
Kiefer had noticed Yaritza next to Leopold as Master Daquan demonstrated the acts of fencing.
If he didn't see either of them alone, then the few times he did see one of them, counted as seeing the other as it seemed they preferred each other's company.
Why though?
Kiefer couldn't discern.
As a sound was made to commence the match, Master Daquan allowed himself some time to break down the strategy of his opponent.
He could feel his eyes quiver over every part of his opponent's body; his arms, legs, torso and direction of the foot.
Master Daquan could sense where his opponent was about to spring to, and side stepped.
The thin blade of the sabre whisteled through the air, just past the spot where Master Daquan's chest had been.
The students were less at bay because they knew that there was a plastron under his arm and a chest protector beneath the jacket.
Although the steel net that covered the mask didn't make him see better, he could still make out, clearly, the outline of the figure that was now to his left, his arm straight, his blade pointed skywards and his two legs at increased width.
The students realized that Master Daquan could easily have scored a few points but he chose not to.
The reason was quite obvious, he was displaying the basic acts of fencing.
The match carried on for a few minutes, the students obsevering carefully, how swift and precise Master Daquan appeared, how crude but skillful his opponent seemed.
It was an intriguing match.
Kiefer recalled learning the basics of fencing from his uncle back in the world where he came from.
His uncle was one skillful fencer.
He practiced the Épée style and was a pro-fencer, haven championed in various competitions worldwide and local.
It was a day when Kiefer had been to his uncle's for visiting, that the young man invited Kiefer into a grand training space, filled with equipment and the likes.
'My boy, Kief,' Uncle Steve had said to Kiefer, addressing him with a nickname,'your stance will always be accounted for in how your opponent tackles you.
You will need to attain a better stance, and a better grip at the pommel of your weapon.'
Now Kiefer recalled the familiar art of the footwork his uncle had demonstrated to him.
With all the physical turmoil he had been through to perfect his footwork and stance and thrusting speed with precision, Kiefer wasn't so sure he would be taken down by that much people.
A few, very few people, he decided, if he was being generous.
Kiefer watched as Master Daquan unleashed his mastery upon his opponent,
throwing in parry in defense, with unmatched speed, he carried out a counter parry, touching the opponent's chest piece.
An appleause followed.
The students were clearly blown away by such precision, immense footwork and unmatched bladework that Master Daquan exhibited.
It was like watching a sculptor mold clay into a vase, so intricate and yet so intriguing.
Master Daquan dropped the sabre and walked to face the seated students.
Taking off his mask, he ruffled through his auburn curls, their tips bouncing at his neckline and temples.
With a bright smile and a bow, Master Daquan began,
'I believe that was enough for everyone here to pick up a few basics. If not, then purchase Qichi Lake Academy's manual on fencing.'
Stepping down from the piste, Master Daquan placed his mask on a desk, folded his arms behind him and began walking around the seated students, his gaze hovering like the eyes of a starved eagle over a helpless chick.
Now standing behind the seated students, hands folded behind him and legs at spaced width, Master Daquan started,
'Today, I will pick a few people to go against each other in order to assess each of your skill levels.
It will be repeated tomorrow and the day after that and on and on until every one here has been assessed.'
Master Daquan paused.
One could hear the voiced opinions flutter around the room in disjoined symphony as the itinerary for the upcoming days was explained by Master Daquan.
Clearly some of these students had not had a proper training in fencing as a sport.
'Will you look at the time!' His voice soared through the high ceilings of Qichi Lake Academy building.
It's time for lunch.
Please students, we reconvene the hour after lunch.
And... Do yourself a favor to show up early, I don't favour latecomers.'
********
It was after a hearty lunch of falafed and fardel with the finest grape wine, the students were at the changing room, switching from corporate wear to fencing outfit, about to begin their second fencing class.
Kiefer pulled out the signature fencing outfit from his locker, clutching his mask at hand after draping the last piece of his fencing outfit.
As he stepped into the boots to secure them, he noticed Grayson at the extreme end of the changing room, in a discussion with a boy who looked unmistakably Asian.
Kiefer wondered whatever it was the talk was about.
As the students rounded up and walked into the fencing room, they were stopped by someone who appeared to be an assistant.
The young man began;
'Hello, students, Master Daquan has put together two people who will be going against each other in the fencing assessment for today.'
Kiefer could feel his heart sink. That fist was starting to form in his chest.
Not a fist alright, but a feeling of heaviness, that feeling of congestion he despised but never ceased to occur.
The young man cleared his throat.
'Master Daquan has called Kiefer Edward and Yaritza Galanis,' he looked up from the paper he held, 'are these two people here?'