“Oh, my, I’m so sorry.” My own weapon falls to the floor with a clatter, and I rush over to help them up, which is kind of ridiculous because they’re so tall and muscular and weigh far too much for me to actually move them at all.
The ogre ignores me and turns to the troll.
“You didn’t tell me the newb was a cheater,” Azir grumbles.
Malak laughs as he climbs to his feet, somewhat ignoring me too. “She’s a fighter, all right. You’re welcome to train with me—”
“Us,” Azir corrects.
“—anytime.”
“I really am sorry,” I say, babbling. “I didn’t mean to do that. I know the whole point of this sparring match was to use weapons only, and I… I don’t know… I didn’t mean to use magic. I didn’t intend to cheat!”
“It’s all right.” Azir reclaims his weapons. “You do not need to freak out.”
Malak lays a beefy hand on my shoulder. “We’re fine. You’re fine. That is all that matters. Did you learn anything?”
I hesitate.
The troll grimaces, and let me tell you, that is one kind of a scary expression. “Nothing?”
“No, I did. I learned from you, from you both… It’s just…”
“You can’t learn everything your first day,” Azir grunts. “Give it time.”
“I’m not exactly the patient type.”
The ogre laughs. “Nah, I didn’t expect you to be.”
“Why are you so frustrated?” Malak asks in a tone much softer than I would have expected to come from a troll.
I blink back sudden, hot tears. “I’m a pathetic witch. I can’t figure out how to use my magic on command. I have no real skill with weapons yet. I don’t know anything about the history of witches or hunters or anything pertaining to the magical world. I don’t know much of anything. I only just learned I’m a witch a week ago. I… I’ve been using magic accidentally for years, but I have no control over it, and everyone else has a family and people to have helped them since they were babies, but I was stuck in an orphanage. I just want to be able to learn everything.”
“And you will,” Azir says, “but first, you need to relax. You haven’t even been here a week yet. The whole point of the courses is to teach you what you need to know.”
“And besides, it’s not as if everything our parents taught us is necessarily right,” Malak adds. “Which means we have to unlearn and then relearn.”
I grimace. Unlearning and relearning still makes someone more on the ball than I am.
“You haven’t gone to another magical school, have you?”
I blink, surprised. “Of course not.”
Maybe the troll realizes my confusion because he explains, “There are magical schools for those younger than sixteen.”
“Oh.” I feel sheepish. I should’ve realized that.
“My point is that you shouldn’t be so hard on yourself.”
“The ugly one is right,” Azir says, jerking his thumb toward Malak. “Putting so much pressure on yourself will only make you more anxious and more likely to continue to leak magic when you don’t mean to.”
“Exactly.” Malak nods.
“But,” the ogre continues as if the troll hadn’t said a thing, “that you can use magic when stressed is good.”
“Very good. There are some witches who have to train themselves to be able to use it when their emotions are heightened.” Malak rubs his chin. “Not that I understand that. I always thought emotions and magic were linked for witches, but maybe not.”
“Don’t talk about what you don’t know,” Azir snaps.
Malak curls back his upper lip.
The ogre turns his back to the troll. "My point is that using magic when stressed is good because if you ever do find yourself in a fight, a real one, you'll need your magic to have a chance."
“I know. I understand all of that. It’s just…”
“What?” Malak pries.
“I finally have a place where I belong, and I don’t know where I fit in except for at the very bottom. I mean, orphans are used to that as it is, but… I thought this would be my chance to start over with a clean slate, and I’m so behind—”
Azir pretends to slap me. “What did I say about stress?”
“That it helps me with my magic?”
He glowers at me, but his eyes remain kind. “You do not need more stress. Your body is going to be tired and sore. You don’t want to make your mind tired and sore, too.”
“Nothing happens overnight,” Malak says. “Nothing. That is why we practice and train. We want to be able to hunt those who would do our kind harm. We don’t want to come back as a ghost because our target kills us.”
“Then again, as long as another hunter takes out the target, we’ll be able to move on,” Azir points out.
“Is that how it works for ghosts?” I ask. “Once they fulfill their unfinished work, or someone does it for them, they… what? Disappear?”
“They move on to Heaven or Hell,” Azir explains.
“Does everyone go to either one of those places?” I ask.
“According to the angels and demons yes,” Malak says, “but maybe there are other places.”
“Are there any gods or goddesses or demigods here at the school?”
“Nope,” Azir says.
“How many different kinds of magical beings and creatures are there?”
Malak shrugs. “Over fifty, I think.”
I look at Azir for confirmation.
The ogre grins. "Sounds about right. We don't know everything yet, either."
“Of course not,” I murmur, embarrassed. “I’m sorry for all of the questions and for taking up your time. You guys came here to train.”
“And we did train. Just… don’t tell anyone you disarmed us, okay?” Azir asks.
“We have reputations to protect,” Malak adds.
I giggle, feeling a teensy bit better. “I won’t,” I promise. “I wouldn’t even know who to tell.”
“All the ogres, but only if you just mention Azir,” Malak jests.
“You think you’re hilarious.” The ogre picks up his weapons. “Want to go some more?”
“You know I’m ready,” Malak says.
“Thank you, but I’m done for the night. I have a feeling I’m going to be crawling up the ladder to my bed.”
Their good-natured laughter follows me as I pick up and then put away the sword and leave the room. Hopefully, no one can detect that I used magic without supervision, but fire, wind, moving things with my mind… not to mention the necromancy… how many types of magic do I have? How long will it take for me to master just one kind? And then the others? I want to do so much, learn everything, train, be the best I can be at everything. I’m sure there are plenty of witches who don’t bother with lifting weights or taking weapon training seriously, just like I’m sure werewolves and shifters think they can rely on their animal forms to always keep them safe, but that’s not me. I want more. I want to be more.
The moon hangs heavy in the sky above me, a perfect silvery orb. I smile at her, closing my eyes and spinning around. Yes, the world is a much scarier place than I ever thought possible, but this school is doing its part to keep the world as safe as possible. With guys like Malak and Azir, there's no doubting that the future hunters will be strong and capable. According to Mentor Blase, the number of evil paranormal creatures is rising every day, but the hunters can handle them.
And one day, I will join their ranks and help to stem the tide of darkness. All of my life, I’ve felt as if a cloud has hung over me, smothering me, keeping me down. Maybe here, I can shed that darkness away and shine like I was always meant to.
So I’ll take Malak’s and Azir’s advice and take it one day at a time, but I’m going to do all I can to make the world a better place.