“Pluck the strings firmly, Ato.” Ato struggled to hold the kipi, his little arms barely stretching far enough to reach the strings bound across the instrument’s thin wooden frame. Weak, slightly offbeat—and more than a bit off key—notes lilted into the wind, as Ato plucked each string with as much strength as his tired arms could muster. Beside him sat another boy, only a bit older than him, singing a lullaby shyly along to Ato’s playing.

  It was the first day of Ato’s training, and Kenri stood before them, his face unreadable as he watched them. Around them, in the endless sea of grass where they sat, the whole host of students—from young children, to those that were almost adults now—trained, playing music or exercising, or—what intrigued Ato the most—sparring.

  “And the baby choco hopped… t-to his mother in her nest…” The boy coughed, his singing becoming more hoarse, until finally Kenri sighed.

  “That is enough, Hava.” The boy exhaled loudly before falling silent, a look of relief crossing his face. Ato stopped playing as well. Kenri knelt down in front of the boy to look him in the eyes. “I need you to understand, little one, that you must become more confident. You do not need to sing well, but you must sing with courage—no, arrogance. If you cannot bend your mind to your will, then the battle will never bend to it either.”

  Hava looked at the ground, nodding slowly. Kenri turned to Ato. “Ato, your turn. Hava will play for you.” Ato felt something drop in his stomach. He was not necessarily nervous, but, singing for others was something new to him. He handed the kipi to Hava.

  Kenri stood before them, his large hands coming together as he prepared to count them in with claps. “One… Two… Three…” Each clap of his hands seemed almost perfectly spaced, as if obeying some beat Ato could not hear. Hava began playing, his notes rough, some too quiet and others much too loud, yet each meeting the air in proper time.

  “A baby choco wandered away…” Ato cringed as he heard his own voice, noticing each bend in pitch, every word that lasted just a moment too long. “And looked around and found no other…” Ato looked at both Hava and Kenri: Hava gazed down at the kipi, his brow furrowed in concentration, fingers dutifully playing each note with practiced, if nervous, precision. Kenri was staring at Ato, his face once again unreadable, as his foot tapped in time. Ato looked in the distance past Kenri, seeing a familiar young face, twisted in disgust.

  “H-he looked and l-looked for his mother…” Ato felt his body begin to tremble, his throat constricting slightly as he became aware of each compounding failure. Hava’s rhythm was nearly flawless now, his eyes closed, his face one of perfect focus. Ato struggled to sense whatever force Hava and Kenri were bound to—but all he could feel from every direction, was raucous, unending mana, his own errors, and…him.

  “And ch-chirped and ch-chirped f-for his b-brother…” Ato’s eyes turned to the ground, as his voice became ragged, his throat burning. Finally, Kenri sighed, and put his hand up for them to stop.

  “Singing seems to be a challenge for you both today… No matter. We will begin again tomorrow.” Ato heard a laugh. In the distance, Ato’s brother stood with another boy, a smile on both their faces as they talked, their eyes turning every so often to look at them. Ato felt his heart drop. Beside him, Hava stared down at the kipi, his fingers running across the instrument with a nervous, embarrassed energy. Kenri looked at the both of them, then towards Ato’s brother and his friend, and the older boys turned away, pretending to stare back at the village.

  “Koli, Setri! Have you two something to say?” At this, every student paused their activities, turning to look at the scene. The other boy answered.

  “N-no…Master…”

  “What is so funny?”

  “Nothing…”

  Kenri turned to Ato’s brother. “Will you do the service of telling me, Setri?”

  A nervous smile crept along the boy's face. “Oh…we were simply looking at the dogs playing, Master.”

  Kenri laughed. “Come now, Setri. Don’t be a coward.”

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  Setri’s face dropped. Ato could almost see the anger in his trembling arms. Kenri waited. He did not answer. Finally, the old warrior picked a training staff from the ground.

  “Well, as I have been disobeyed, it appears a punishment is in order. Koli: I will decide yours later. As for you Setri…” Kenri began walking towards him. Setri’s face twisted in fear, his body nonetheless falling into stance, his hands grabbing his sword.

  “It seems I will have to remind you how to be brave.”

  In one moment Kenri was walking towards his student; in the next, he was already in front of him, his staff arching downwards. The only thing that allowed Ato to notice was his body, the deep pulse of Song in his legs. Setri yelped, his sword flashing upwards to meet the staff—one hand on its hilt and another on the blade’s back edge—in an effort to hold back the force of Kenri’s blow. It was not enough. The staff and blade met with a sumptuous ring, the blade barely scratching the mana infused wood. Setri slid backwards on his heels, dust flying as his feet plowed through grass and dirt, his body falling onto the ground as he finally came to a stop. Ato stared, unable to look away, his chest still as he watched them fight.

  In another instant, Kenri was before him again, helping Setri stand up.

  “Th-thank you…”

  Kenri paused a moment. “I did not say we were done.” Setri’s face fell in fear, before he channeled magic to his feet, launching himself many lengths away, his body in stance to receive another attack. Kenri walked towards him slowly. “What did I say, little one? You must be brave.” Setri’s eyebrows furrowed, then, he closed his eyes, and Ato noticed something change in his brother. His note—before the same as everything else, simply a tiny drop in a sea of confused noise—suddenly rang clear, somehow in time with every other note, even as the others continued on in seeming chaos. Ato looked at Kenri, who merely smiled, his note doing the same. Ato sat still, rapt, staring at the scene before him. For a moment, he felt some hunger die within him; the same hunger, that he had felt since the day at the tree.

  Setri disappeared from Ato’s vision, as he jumped forward with incredible speed, his sword pointing forwards to pierce the old warrior’s stomach. Kenri simply stepped to the side, not even turning to look at him. Setri, somehow expecting this, stopped just past his teacher's position, his legs flowing with more mana—he jumped up and over Kenri, twisting as he did so, his blade slicing through air at Kenri’s face. Ato’s eyes widened. He had never seen someone move in such a way.

  Kenri grabbed Setri’s sword arm as he flew, stopping him midair and pulling him down, and Setri found himself slammed into the grass with enough force to shatter any ordinary child’s back. Ato gasped, his chest still as he watched his brother crumpled on the ground, the boy's body appearing broken to him. Setri, his body flowing with mana, simply found himself gasping, devoid of air. Kenri bent down and grabbed him—still heaving for breath—by his cloak, so that their eyes met.

  “It is a shame, Setri, that you have such potential, and yet, you behave like this. Do not think that I am not aware, of what you feel towards your brother. I do not care. Here, we are all warriors, and I will not tolerate a warrior who belittles another. Now,” Kenri dropped him to the ground, then readied his staff. “We will continue. Get up—”

  “Wait!”

  Ato was running to them, as fast as his little legs could take him, already tired and burning from channeling mana earlier in the day. “Please! Can you not stop? I forgive him!” The old warrior lowered his staff, looking at Ato, then down at Setri, who was slowly standing up, sword held in guard position.

  “Hm. Look what luck you have, Setri. You are suffering a fate you caused, and yet your younger brother gives you the grace you would not give him. What have you to say?” Ato looked at his brother, whose gaze moved between them both, his face betraying intense fatigue. He said nothing. Kenri raised his staff. “I guess we will have to continue then.”

  Ato’s eyes widened. He turned to Kenri. “No! It is fine! He does not need to apologize! I forgive him already!” Kenri refused to lower his staff. He stared at Setri, who looked at the ground silently.

  “This is not just about your honor, little one. There are lessons that must be learned, and your brother has not learned them. Now: this will be your final chance, Setri. What have you to say?”

  The boy simply stared at the ground for a long while. Finally, he spoke. “I yield.” He looked up at Ato, his eyes darting away to the dirt, before meeting Ato’s again. “Apologies.”

  Kenri raised an eyebrow. “Apologies to who?”

  Setri took a deep breath. “Apologies, Ato… Brother.” Kenri stared at him. Then, he sighed.

  “Pray to the Great Mother, that I never hear of this again, Setri. Go home. You may return tomorrow.” Setri gave Ato one final look, then turned to walk back to the village, his frame trembling from exhaustion with every step. Kenri turned to Ato. “Well then, let us resume training, shall we?”

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