Phil was this one's name. He, like most of Calum's ago group, was taller and heavier. Calum didn't let that stop him when Phil's broadsword feinted around Calum's and swung around. Phil's right foot dug into the dirt with the force of with lunge, Calum nearly fell backwards but managed to parry him off.

     "Not a great move for that sword. We could use the training sabres if you wanted." Calum suggested, he liked sabre better anyway.

     "Yeah, why not." Phil grumbled.

     Calum stripped off the heavy chainmail armor used for broadsword training and replaced it with lighter animal hide. Except for the helmet of course, no matter how heavy and sweat-drenched the thing got, it was a more pleasant experience than a welt across the scalp.

     The two of them stood on a strip on well-trodden dirt,

     Calum waited until Phil fell into his stance before yelling, "En garde, prêz, Allez!"

     The other boy rushed at him, crossing over his feet to close the distance even faster. Calum felt the air rush from his chest when his parry arched swung too far, Phil feinted around it easily and the coupe pressed into Calum's chest. The dulled sword bent into an arc.

     Calum knocked it aside while crossing his feet in a retreat. He could already see Phil's surprisingly agile form rushing towards him again. Calum had to gain some more ground and he had to do it quickly. Phil's sabre began to swing around in a full circle, Calum grinned and their sabres met above Calum's head, just before Phil could get a hit. He retreated, and held Phil's blade to the side with his own, like a snake twisting around the lad's blade, before releasing him in in a quick swipe with landed across Phil's padded shoulder.

     When Phil came charging at Calum again, he didn't retreat. Instead parrying Phil's blade when it came into range and letting Phil run into his. He let out a frustrated grunt. Calum guessed he would be able to use that move again, but perhaps Phil would stop rushing him. 

     "We can take a break if you want." Calum suggested, through his mask.

     "Shut up." Was the only reply he got.

     Calum shrugged, and fell back into his en garde. This time Phil started the round, and Calum's hope were in vain because as soon as his hand dropped, he broke stance and charged at Calum. He didn't know whether to panic or laugh, or both, either way Calum parried and stepped to the side, holding back from swiping a Phil now turned back at the risk of making him angrier.

     Phil had stopped though, and as Calum turned to face him he practically kissed Phil's sword when it smacked against his helmet with such force the ringing sound vibrated through Calum's whole body. Phil continued to score two hits on Calum's forearm and waist, as he'd dropped his sword and stated to keel over from the sound. His left foot caught on a rock, and he fell hard.

     "Stop, stop!" He yelped, instinctively reaching to cover his ears but feeling metal. He'd barely heard his own voice when he spoke. "Give me a second."

     Calum heard Phil say something, but his temporary deafness left him with no idea what it was. He squinted, staring up at Phil, who was gazing off in the direction of the woods their practice field bordered up upon. In the intensity of the bout, the two of them had drifted off the strip and closer to the border. Then Phil was gone, running back in the direction of the campus, sword abandoned next to Calum's. He realized the boy was yelling for Patron Tarif.

     When he glanced back towards the woods, he realized why. Perched and bristling on top of a boulder was a deadwing. Then his hearing came back to him, and all he could hear was the rattling of his heart in his chest like seizing bird. The creature stared at him, its blue eyes were open wide, pupils shrunk to pinpoints, its skin striped red and black. It opened its mouth, and made a sound Calum couldn't process, he only saw its fangs. To his horror, the creature reached out one gnarled, digited hand to step towards him, its massive black wings spread only made it seem even more massive.

     His breath came in short breaths as it crawled towards him. His shaking hands gripped around the sabre, before he realized the blunt sword was useless. Wait! Their broadswords were still laying in the grass by the fighting strip, just a few feet away. Calum tried to stand, put a sharp pain ripped up his thigh and he fell again, gasping for air. He clawed his way across the grass and just as the deadwing towered over him, his hand wrapped around the handle of a broadsword. Calum whipped around to face it.

     Then he froze again.

     The deadwing was staring at him with an expression Calum recognized as astonishment. His knuckles were white as he gripped the hilt close to his body, the two just stared at each other. Calum's muscles stiffened at the thought of striking the deadwing, it was nothing like he'd imagined, the figure before him was surprisingly humanoid, not beastly. He realized the stripes across its body were just paint. Its black hair was smooth but disastrously cut and stood up everywhere. Its ears were long and welven and flicked back as it reached a hand towards Calum's face.

     Calum flinched when it touched him, unblinking. It pushed his chin to the side, to see more of Calum's face. Its skin was warm, and hands were gentle. It let him go and Calum found the strength to scoot away from it a few inches. Until something happened Calum hadn't even thought possible.

     "Who are you?" It said, but in a disconnected, unbelieving way, as if directed at someone else.

     Calum swallowed dryly, and couldn't find the words to answer, its eyes were so mesmerizing.

     The deadwing's gaze suddenly snapped upwards, Calum heard Patron Tarif screams for Calum to move. The creature's wings snapped open and with one beat launched itself into the air, leaving Calum alone and coughing up the remaining dust cloud. When it all settled, Patron Tarif was standing over Calum and shouting faster than he could keep up with. Something about how the gods had blessed his stupid undeserving cadet, and he was lucky to be alive.

     "My leg," he muttered through his own dizziness, "I think it's broken."

     Patron Tarif felt it over, "No, sprained. Get up, we need to leave this place."

     He pulled Calum to his feet, and helped him limp back to campus. The few other training teams stared at him in shock as he passed. Calum didn't see Phil. He wondered where he went. He wondered why nobody else had come to help him.

     The next few hours were a blur. Tarif dumped him on the nurses, the Matron tried to get angry with him when she couldn't find a bed for him to lay in. He didn't deserve a bed in the sickbay, she said. There was someone else he remembered, a nurse with shiny black hair flowed into a braid on her shoulder. It was Holly.

     "There you go birdie," she soothed under her breath, putting away the bandages. "You'll feel better soon. I promise I'll keep you safe."

     He fell asleep in a bed in sickbay.