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Firian
Firian could see his breath in clouds as he stretched out his legs and leaned back in his chair in World Events class. His injuries had healed, although he still had scars on his shins. He’d passed the “training” and, apparently pleased with his loyalty, the Masters gave him even more work to do. Now he rode horses regularly. He and Bard had been trying to figure out what his mission would be, but the scenarios felt limitless.
Pretending to suppress a quick yawn, he shut his eyes and briefly found Maya in the Unreal to wink at her. She smiled at him from across the room. A little warmth filled his core. He sat forward and refocused on the lesson.
“This morning,” said Master Ardal, “the Kepress Kiria Arioc was brutally attacked by a band of Torithians who managed to get onto t
