Thankfully for William and the others, they were able to find Sophia at the market purchasing a fruit basket. As soon as William spotted her, he pushed through the crowd and rushed over to embrace her. At first, the other five did not recognize her because she was wearing a long night gown. The white garment not only looked oversized, dragging past her feet, but it was bizarre to see her in anything other than her dark clothing and her dark green cloak. The most distinctive feature of hers that helped William spot her was her unusually short, maple brown hair. When the rest of the group approached her, it seemed like William hugged a complete stranger at first. It was not until she noticed the rest of them and flashed her bashful eyes in their direction that they realized it was really her.

She explained to everyone that a carriage had rolled by and splattered mud all over her clothing and she had to go to her parents' house for a change of clothes. Unfortunately, all they could spare was the large night gown she was wearing. Nevertheless, she went back to the market to purchase the rest of the food for her and her husband. She was surprised to see him so distressed, and embarrassed that so many from both the Swordsmen's Guild and her own guild came to see her.

When she asked why they came to check up on her, they filled her in on what was happening and how they planned to deal with it. Due to the circumstances and the idea that they were stronger together than apart, they explained that they would have to start spending nights in the same inns. The plan to start inn hopping together bothered her just as much as it did the rest of them, but she figured it was for the best, given the news they informed her of. To add to their dismay, they knew that they would have to find Victoria so that she could stay with them as well. Even though in terms of offense she was one of the most powerful people in the world and could likely handle herself, it was still imperative they knew her whereabouts being such a valuable member of the alliance.

With the couple reunited and a plan communicated, the group made their way back to the Swordsmen's Guild. When they got there, they encountered a short, yet notably bulky man taking the measurements of the doorframe that had been blown apart. He was wearing a white sleeveless shirt and grey pants held with a black belt. His dark hair was short and at the top with the sides shaved. Wrinkles and veins at his temples suggested he was middle-aged.

The only ones who knew who he was were Grace and William, so Liam leaned towards his wife and asked, "Uh, who's the brick?"

"That's Tim!" Grace answered, elbowing him in the arm.

"Hm?" Tim grunted, cocking his head in their direction. He quirked an eyebrow over his pale green eyes. He appeared puzzled by the diverse looking group of people approaching the guild.

"Tim!" Grace called, rushing over to ease his standoffish disposition.

"Oh, Grace," he greeted as she wrapped her arms around him and he patted her on the back, "good to see ya again." He turned his attention back to the rest of the crowd, nodding at William but appearing stale with the sorcerers. "Your dad wasn't kiddin'. Guild's really changed."

"For the better, might I add!" Liam exclaimed. As Grace pulled herself away from Tim, Liam approached and extended a hand towards the man to introduce himself. "Liam Wilson. And you're Tim the Blacksmith, I presume?"

The man responded with an unimpressed grunt.

Liam's face went slack and he drew his hand back. Why didn't I see that coming?

"He's my husband," Grace explained.

"Hmph," he exhaled, crossing his arms, "Strange you'd choose a wizard. I always thought you'd marry a swordsman."

"And I always thought you'd be taller," Liam quipped, crossing his own arms.

Tim released a subdued growl, like he heard short jokes his whole life and he no longer bothered to counter them.

"Play nice, you two," Grace coaxed, walking between them and placing a hand on each shoulder of theirs.

Tim turned his attention to the robust girl with fierce eyes. He raised his eyebrows with intrigue and a smirk formed at the corner of his mouth. "I take it you're Daryl's apprentice!" Tim acknowledged, walking towards her and extending a hand.

Mallory glanced at Wade next to her, surprised by his shift in attitude. It was rare for her to meet someone new from the Swordsmen's Guild who behaved respectfully towards her. Wade shrugged subtly with one shoulder, and she looked down at the man and smirked back at him. She took his hand and replied, "Yes, I am."

His smile grew wider as he explained, "Rod told me Daryl's apprentice was a colored girl. I didn't believe it, but now that I'm seein' ya...!" He chuckled and shook her hand with firm enthusiasm. "Wow, you're tough as nails, aren't ya?"

Right as Tim said that, Mallory caught eye of a groggy swordsman entering the workshop behind a posse of three other swordsmen. He was about her age, possibly younger, carrying a dark brown bottle. The man sneered in her direction, as if responding to Tim's compliment. She narrowed her eyes at him, wondering what that reaction of his was all about. He proceeded to walk through the broken entrance with his comrades.

Once she turned her attention back to Tim, Mallory examined his own muscular build and assumed that the man was just an admirer of physical prowess. That made her wonder how much respect he must have had for Garrison. She giggled under her breath and answered, "I'd say so, yeah."

Tim bellowed with laughter and pat her on the arm. "Confident, too! I look forward to your initiation!"

Mallory was not completely sure what he meant by that, but she smiled at him, nonetheless. "Thank you."

Wade raised a wary hand at him, and then Tim walked past the two of them to speak with William. The blacksmith joked, "Well I'm certainly not surprised that you didn't marry a swordsman!" They shared a laugh as William introduced him to his wife.

Wade lowered his head, his expression dropping slightly. Mallory rubbed his shoulder and assured, "It's alright. He just needs to get used to you all."

Liam grimaced at his friendliness with Mallory, William, and even Sophia as he shook her hand and complimented her looks. He leaned towards Grace and asked, "When are people gonna be happy to see me?"

Grace smirked at him. "What are ya talkin' about? Victoria was really happy to see you!"

Liam shuddered at the joke and looked away. "Don't remind me," he grumbled, taking her hand and going inside the workshop with her.

Phoebus scurried inside after them, as if he was too dependent to go in by himself but too antsy to stay outside around the blacksmith who wanted nothing to do with him.

Mallory and Wade went in as well, though the thought of the man who sneered at her pricked the back of her mind. Sure enough, she found him once more granting her a harsh, wincing glare, sitting at the end of a table with his comrades.

"Hey Wade," Liam called from around the corner of Rod's quarters, "Rod wants to speak with us about our plan to stay together. He wants to make sure we're all on the same page."

Wade smiled slightly and nodded, going into the room with his ally.

With her friend gone, she darted her attention back to the glaring man and wondered if it would have been a good idea to approach him. After acknowledging the man's inability to keep his head held steady above his shoulders, she decided to ignore him. She took her eyes off of him and started to walk over to a table in the back where she and Wade normally sat.

Predictably, he kept his eyes on her as she passed him by. Finally, he started, "Ya really think you're tough just 'cause you took down that little witch, don't ya?"

Mallory stopped her stride and looked back at the swordsman, who sloppily made his way onto his feet, resting a hand on the table to use as a crutch. His friends' eyes shifted back and forth between him and Mallory. Most of the other men were around his age, but some of them were older. The younger ones looked on with curiosity, while the older ones had smirks on their faces.

Seeing that he had her attention, the corner of his mouth curved upward, and he continued, "Thought you were brave, huh? No, that was stupid!" He stumbled forward and nearly fell over with his exclamation, but he caught himself and whipped his head back up to lock eyes with her again. "Any one of us coulda done the same thing. Only reason why you were the one to do it is 'cause you're the only one dumb enough to attack someone like that!"

I don't care if it was stupid. I had to protect Wade. Mallory glared at him for a moment, and then turned around to continue towards her table.

The man reacted to her indifference with a quiet shriek in the back of his throat, followed by an audible grumble. "What? Ya think you're better than me or something? You're just a dumb girl!" Realizing that she was still ignoring him, he marched toward her, his approach wobbly yet quick.

Mallory kept walking, but she could not help but notice how odd it was that the older men were making no effort to stop him. Then, she remembered that some of them were smirking. Maybe he was annoying them, too...

Tim, William, and Sophia entered the room, their conversation coming to a halt when they noticed the drunken swordsman approaching Mallory at an alarming speed.

As he gained on her, the young man took heed to her long, raven hair that reached the center of her back. "Ya think you're so smart? What're ya gonna do in a fight when someone does this?" Once he was within proximity, he clutched the girl's hair and tried to pull her down.

With his hand grasping her hair, she jerked her head forward. Instead of getting dragged down like he intended, she ended up yanking him towards her. She pivoted towards him to release his grip on her hair while at the same time causing him to trip. She reeled a fist back and struck his temple as hard as she could, causing a dull sounding crack. The man fell flat on his back in the aisle, eyes closed, and arms spread out like an angel.

There was a collective coo followed by some haughty bellowing from the men in the room. Mallory looked around the room with a smoldering gaze, as if she was daring anyone else to attack her. Meeting only a vast combination of surprised and impressed facial expressions, she waved her hand at her side, shaking off her aching knuckles.

Tim, William, and Sophia's eyes were on Mallory standing over him, and Tim nudged William with a laugh, saying, "Looks like we'll be getting another high-ranking swordswoman in the guild, huh, William?"

"Under Daryl's wing, absolutely," William agreed.

Sophia raised an eyebrow at the man on the floor and asked, "Will, should I try healing him?"

Her husband shrugged and answered, "If you wish."

With a downward nod, she replied, "Okay, I won't."

"What's going on now?" an annoyed Daryl called from Rod's quarters, stepping out with his hand on the hilt of his sword. He looked around to find Mallory standing over the unconscious man and everyone giving her their undivided attention. He narrowed his eyes at her, indicating that he was directing his question at her.

Mallory crossed her arms and answered, "He asked me how I'm supposed to fight if someone grabs my hair. I demonstrated." She glanced at the body in front of her, and then back at her master.

Daryl looked down and recognized the man as a newcomer who often spent his earnings on alcohol. Along with being in over his head even in his sobriety, his drunkenness turned him into quite the pest whenever he came around. Daryl assumed the man did something to upset her, but her answer came off as too vague.

"It's quite alright, sir!" an older man interjected, standing from the table the young man was sitting at and walking over to the body. Getting Daryl's attention, he crouched down and grabbed under the boy's shoulders. With an amused grin, he explained, "This here is my apprentice, he was initiated a week ago. He had no idea who she was, and he got jealous of her skills against that redheaded woman. Next thing you know, he marches up to her and grabs her hair." He shook his head and chuckled. "She laid him out in a split second, as he deserved, I'd say!" The man lifted him upright and motioned for one of the others to help him. Another man got up and went over to grab his ankles. "She was defending herself, that's all," the man finished, hoisting the boy up and carrying him over to their table.

Daryl turned his attention back to his apprentice, who looked at him with a proud glare, awaiting his response. He loosened his grip on his hilt and lowered his hand to his side. Then, he looked over at the entryway to the workshop to spot William and Sophia. "You two," he called, tilting his head back towards Rod's room, "you're needed inside. To discuss your plans to stay together."

They looked at each other and nodded, going past Daryl and inside Rod's quarters.

"Ya shoulda seen her!" Tim called, reaching in his pocket for a roll of measuring tape and unravelling it. As he began measuring the door frame again, he smirked at Daryl. "I think she'll really blow us away at her initiation!"

The room erupted briefly with an affirmative grunt, the men nodding with approval. Mallory's eyes flickered to them, unable help herself from smirking at their collective acceptance of her improvement. Still, their talk of initiation felt foreign to her. She heard the word tossed around through her years there, but since they started to talk about her own initiation and how excited they were to see it, she wanted to know what to expect.

Daryl understood that their jargon was likely confusing her, so he went over to her and instructed, "Come with me to the training grounds. I'll tell you about what you'll have to do in a few weeks' time."

Mallory nodded and turned to walk by his side. "Yes, Master."

***

"Now that your training is coming to an end," Daryl began, as they walked down the stairs to the beach, "you'll have an official spot in our guild soon. You'll have your own weapon forged for you, you'll have the symbol either sewn into your clothes or marked on your skin, and you'll be able to take on jobs from handlers. But before you get to do all of that, you still have one thing to do in order to become an official member of the Swordsmen's Guild..."

"Initiation," Mallory finished with a nod as the two of them stepped onto the sand.

"Right," Daryl confirmed while they made their way to the area past the gate where they normally trained. "Initiation into the guild entails a one-on-one sword fight with a swordsman of your choosing."

Mallory raised her eyebrows and stopped behind him as he went ahead to open the gate for her. "I can really choose anyone?" she asked.

"As long as he's willing to accept your challenge, yes." As his apprentice stepped through the threshold into their training area, he mentioned, "The only swordsmen you can't choose are Rod and myself."

Mallory cocked an eyebrow as he closed the gate behind them and turned to face her. "Why would anyone pick Rod?" Mallory asked, finding it hard to imagine the old man in a sword fight with someone.

Daryl's expression lifted in a sort of cautionary manner, and he answered, "To make a statement."

Mallory straightened her face and realized what he was implying. He must be a lot better than it would seem...

"And you can't choose me because I'm the one who trained you," Daryl explained. "Rod figured it would be best for aspiring swordsmen to avoid picking their masters considering the possibility of a master losing the match just to make his apprentice look good." Daryl walked to the sword rack and grabbed the old sword that he had her using for her past few years cutting through the logs. He went back to her and handed her the blade.

Mallory took the old sword and held it parallel to her chest. She examined the dents along its flat and the gradual dinginess that plagued the once silver blade. Then, she thought about what a weapon of her own would look like. "So, all I have to do is pick a swordsman and beat him in a fight?"

"You don't have to beat him," Daryl answered.

Mallory's head bolted upright to meet Daryl's gaze. "Really? Then what's the point?"

He crossed his arms and took a breath. "To evaluate your skills. Rod will be there to watch the match and decide whether or not you're ready to become an official member, which means that it's not based on victory. It's based on his approval."

Mallory thought about that and realized that through all the years she had known Rod, he never actually saw her spar with Daryl. Even though her progress was clear enough with her physique, it was true that he still had no idea how good she was with a sword. One characteristic of Rod that she had become aware of over the years is his relaxed, almost yielding demeanor. He was not one to go against change or spend a lot of time arguing, but at the same time, he took his guild very seriously. With that in mind, she wondered how easy or difficult it would be for her to impress him enough to let her into the guild. She lowered the sword to her side, still trying to picture how the event would play out.

"Rod is well aware that you're more skilled than most," Daryl continued, as if he read her mind, "so if you're still serious about joining this guild, I wouldn't recommend choosing some unsuspecting idiot you can knock out in a split second." He shifted his eyes toward the workshop with a tilt of his head.

Mallory looked toward the building, suddenly feeling embarrassed by the mere notion of choosing that boy for her initiation. She looked down and rubbed the back of her neck.

"Rod will hold you to a much higher standard than that, so at the very least, you'll have to choose someone experienced."

Mallory looked back up at her master and took a breath, wondering if he would give her any advice. "If I can't choose you, then maybe...Grace?"

Daryl put a hand to his chin. "She is high ranking with her own title, and she has the reputation of besting Garrison the Gargantuan...I suppose she would be a bold choice, but there is the issue of her being a close friend of yours. The few of us who know her will understand that Grace would respect the rules of the match, but many of the others might suspect that she'd lose to you on purpose."

"Why should I care about what they think?" Mallory questioned with a shrug.

Daryl narrowed his eyes at her. "Because they'll be your comrades soon, and we'll need as much help as we can get to save your father. You're not going to get many on your side if they think you're not serious about being a member of the guild. Not only that, but they need to be sure that you have the talent, and not just a pair of biceps."

Mallory stretched a corner of her mouth, thinking about who would make for a good, unbiased opponent. Unfortunately, she had not acquainted herself with many other swordsmen through the years, since she spent most of her time there either training or talking to Wade. She tried to think of a good choice, and then she remembered the man who gave her the advice she needed to hear in order to advance her training. "What about Jeremy?"

"Him?" Daryl asked. At first, he looked baffled, but after thinking about it, it dawned on him that Jeremy had been in the guild for at least seven years. I've seen that he gets paid well, at least every other week, so maybe he's more capable than I imagined... Daryl nodded slowly. "Yes, I suppose he's a good choice..."

"Okay, I'll pick him then—"

"Wait," Daryl interrupted, still thinking about her options, "it might be a better idea to choose someone who has a better reputation. It's not that I don't think Jeremy would put up a fight, it's just that it would be more impressive to pick someone better known. Remember, this is your first real impression on the guild. You're a woman, and you're colored. More people will show up to your initiation than they have for most because of that. They'll either wish to see you fail and prove themselves right about women not being fit for the guild, or, like Tim and the other men who saw you up there, they'll want to see what you can really do."

Mallory knit her eyebrows. It never crossed her mind that they would have to put so much thought into her pick for the duel. "Should I...pick William?"

"That's a better choice," Daryl considered, "he's high-ranking and people know him, but..."

"What is it?" Mallory asked, wondering why he was still on the fence about her choosing William.

After a moment of pondering, a high-ranking swordsman he had not seen in some time came to mind, and he realized he would be a great choice for Mallory to face off against. He lifted his chin to and stopped rubbing his greyish beard, resting his hand at his side. Daryl looked Mallory in the eye and explained, "I think it'd be best if it's someone you haven't even met. Someone who the guild knows wouldn't give you any leniency. Someone who basks in the heat of combat." The scarred grin on his face flashed in Daryl's mind, remembering that day he had to stop him from kicking Liam. "My best recommendation for you is Braden the Brash."

Mallory pursed her lips, the name sounding familiar, but she could not quite remember which one he was. She tried to think about all the skilled swordsmen she had seen through the years, and then that distinctive scar popped in her mind. There was a time when she was doing her laps up and down the stairs, and she caught a glimpse of a short, lean looking man speaking with Daryl and eyeing her. The red scar ran from the top of his forehead in a straight line through his eyeball, and halfway down his cheekbone. "Is he the one with the scar?"

"Yes," Daryl answered. "He'll be a tough match up for you. Braden is quick, agile, and resilient. He once swung his sword at me while I had a hand on his neck. It would've killed me if I'd reacted any slower."

Mallory's eyes got big. "We...won't be using real swords, right?"

"Of course not," Daryl answered. "I'm not saying you'll need to fear for your life. I'm saying that you'll need to prepare yourself for a real challenge. That is, if you pick him."

She sighed with relief, glad that at the very least this would not be a fight in which she would get seriously injured. "So then, I'll have to talk to Braden and see if he's willing to fight me, right?"

"It's up to you," Daryl informed. "Just because I think he'd be your best choice doesn't mean you have to pick him. If you want to fight William, pick him. If you want to fight Jeremy, pick him. All I'm saying is that you must make your decision wisely. Think of this as your first independent act as a swordsman."

Mallory took a lengthy breath through her nostrils, her eyes shifting left and right subtly. She nodded and looked her master in the eye. "Alright."

"One more thing," Daryl started, "when the initiation starts, Rod will ask you who you wish for your opponent to be. Then, and only then, will your decision be final. There's no going back after that, understood?"

"Yes, Master."

"Good." Daryl tilted his head towards the logs behind her. "Get to it then."

Mallory nodded and turned towards a log with both hands gripping the sword. She moved the blade to her right and swung at the log's center, slicing all the way through it with ease. The sting in her arms was minor, so she dropped the sword in order to guide the top half of the log as it fell. She leaned it against the platform and maneuvered her left shoulder under its circumference to wrap her arm around it and hoist it up. Wrapping her right arm around the log that was still upright on the platform, she released a grunt as she lifted it to lay it across her right shoulder. With both hunks of lumber in her grasp, she jogged out of the training area and towards the stairs for her laps.

Daryl trailed behind her to watch his apprentice practically leap and bound up that flight of stairs, skipping a step with each stride, her eyes straight ahead. He could not help but think about her very first attempt at doing the laps, and how she stumbled and fell only holding a much smaller chunk of wood. In that moment, lugging two logs about twice the size as the first one she lifted, her gaze did not falter, and her movement did not waver. As if on its own, his head nodded ever so slightly. You'll show them exactly what you're made of, Mallory.