The Shield Companion

The message arrived at breakfast—three identical notes delivered by different Academy pages to Saguna, Radji, and Osa. Each bore the same instruction in Professor Nyala's elegant script:

Training Hall. East Wing. Noon today. Wear comfortable attire.

"Physical training," Radji said, carefully folding the note along precise creases. "Professor Nyala mentioned we would need to strengthen our bodies as well as our minds."

Osa grinned, stretching his arms overhead. "Finally, something I might actually be good at. No offense, but meditation isn't exactly my strong suit."

Saguna said nothing, merely pocketing his note. The whispers had been quieter since the Soul Drainer incident, but he'd woken that morning with an unsettled feeling he couldn't shake. Something about physical training made him uneasy—perhaps the memory of being the last chosen for sports in his village school, or the taunts about his lanky frame.

When noon approached, the three made their way across the Academy grounds to the East Wing, a section of the sprawling campus they hadn't yet explored. Unlike the grand architecture of the main buildings, the East Wing was purposeful and austere—smooth stone walls with few windows, reminiscent of a fortress rather than a school.

Inside, they followed a corridor that descended gradually until they reached a set of double doors carved with intricate patterns—figures in various poses of combat, interwoven with elemental symbols.

"Do we knock, or...?" Osa wondered aloud.

Before anyone could answer, the doors swung inward silently, revealing a vast training hall. The floor was covered with woven mats of some resilient fiber. Wooden practice weapons lined one wall, while another displayed various training tools—weighted ropes, balance beams, and devices they didn't recognize. Natural light filtered through high, narrow windows, illuminating dust motes that danced in the air.

In the center of the room, two figures moved in perfect synchrony, performing what appeared to be a choreographed sequence of strikes, blocks, and flowing steps. One was a man perhaps in his fifties, his salt-and-pepper hair pulled back in a tight knot, his wiry frame belying remarkable speed and precision. The other was a young woman, possibly a few years older than them, matching the master's movements with flawless execution.

Neither acknowledged the newcomers, continuing their dance-like routine without hesitation. The movements seemed to accelerate, building to a crescendo of strikes that blurred with speed before concluding in perfect stillness—both practitioners frozen in identical poses, not even their breathing visible.

After holding the position for several heartbeats, the older man straightened and finally turned toward the door.

"The new Triumvirate arrives," he said, his voice carrying easily across the hall despite its measured tone. "Right on time. Good. I despise tardiness."

The young woman turned as well, studying them with undisguised curiosity. She was striking rather than conventionally beautiful—sharp cheekbones, intense eyes, and hair cut practically short, revealing a slender neck and the hints of scars that suggested years of training.

"I am Master Tanaga," the man said, approaching with a measured gait. "Professor Nyala has asked me to oversee your physical conditioning." His gaze moved between them, assessing. "This is my assistant, Leila Vox, third-year student and the most promising practitioner of Silat in a generation."

Leila inclined her head slightly. "Welcome to the Training Hall." Her eyes lingered on each of them in turn, her expression betraying nothing of her thoughts.

"Silat?" Saguna asked, breaking the awkward silence.

"A martial discipline that predates the Academy itself. Rather than opposing force with force, it teaches practitioners to harmonize with energies both within and without." A slight smile crossed Master Tanaga's face. "Although there is nothing particularly subtle about it when applied in combat."

He gestured for them to advance further into the room. "We will begin with an assessment of your current abilities. Leila will demonstrate some basic forms, which you will attempt to replicate."

As they moved toward the center of the mats, Osa leaned closer to Saguna. "I'm guessing he doesn't know about our... special circumstances?" he whispered.

"On the contrary, Mr. Hann," Master Tanaga said without turning around, his hearing apparently as keen as his movements, "I am fully aware of your marks and their significance. I have trained two previous Triumvirates in my lifetime."

This revelation stopped all three in their tracks. "Two?" Radji asked, his analytical mind immediately seeking clarification. "But the last recorded Triumvirate was three centuries ago, according to the Memorial Hall records."

Master Tanaga turned, his expression unreadable. "Not all Triumvirates succeed in their purpose, Mr. Loma. Not all are commemorated in stone and story." Something dark passed behind his eyes. "Some fail before they fully awaken. Others are... eliminated by those who fear what they represent."

A chill ran down Saguna's spine at the master's words. The implication was clear—being chosen by the spirits was not just an honor but a potential death sentence.

"Enough history for today," Master Tanaga said, his tone shifting to brisk efficiency. "Remove your shoes and stand in a triangle formation, facing inward. Leila will guide you through the First Sequence."

As they complied, Leila took a position where all three could see her clearly. "The First Sequence teaches body awareness and basic principles of energy flow," she explained. "Pay attention not just to the positions, but to the transitions between them."

She began a series of movements that seemed deceptively simple—weight shifts, arm rotations, and deliberate breathing patterns. Yet as the three attempted to follow along, they quickly discovered the complexity hidden within the apparent simplicity.

Radji's arms jerked through the air in distinct, separate motions, his brow furrowed as he counted under his breath, 'One. Two. Three.' Where Leila's movements flowed like water, his chopped like a methodical axe. 

Saguna had difficulty maintaining his balance during weight transfers, his lanky frame not yet coordinated with the unfamiliar movements. Osa, despite his natural athletic ability, fought against his tendency to add unnecessary flourishes to the disciplined forms.

Master Tanaga moved between them, making small adjustments to their postures with firm but gentle hands. "Mr. Loma, water does not move in straight lines—neither should you. Mr. Taksa, find your center before each movement. Mr. Hann, precision before speed."

After an hour of basic forms, sweat soaked through their clothes, and muscles they hadn't known existed screamed in protest. Yet Master Tanaga showed no sign of concluding the session.

"Now," he said, "we move to elemental attunement."

He directed them to different stations around the room. Radji was positioned before a table covered with various soils, sands, and clay. Osa was guided to a series of water-filled vessels ranging from tiny cups to a large basin. Saguna was placed before several candles of different sizes.

"Focus your awareness on your element," Master Tanaga instructed. "Not to control it, but to sense its nature, its movement, its essence."

As they began this new exercise, Leila approached Master Tanaga, speaking in a low voice that nonetheless carried to Saguna's ears.

"They're untrained," she observed. "Especially the tall one. His balance is terrible."

"They are newly awakened," Master Tanaga replied calmly. "As we all were once."

"The last pair you trained..." Leila began, then hesitated. "How long did they survive?"

Master Tanaga's expression remained impassive, but something in his posture suggested old grief. "Long enough to understand their purpose. Not long enough to fulfill it."

Leila's gaze returned to the three students struggling with their elemental attunement. "And these three? Do they have a chance?"

"That," Master Tanaga said quietly, "will depend as much on you as on them."

Leila's eyes widened slightly. "Me? I'm just your assistant."

"Not anymore." Master Tanaga turned to face her fully. "From today, you are their shield-companion. Where they go, you go. What they face, you face alongside them."

"But I'm not part of their Triumvirate," Leila protested. "I don't bear the marks."

"No," Master Tanaga agreed. "But you have something they lack—years of martial arts training."

"Good." Master Tanaga turned his attention back to his struggling students. "Because their first real test approaches far sooner than any of us would wish."

As the training session finally concluded, the three friends dragged themselves back toward their quarters, muscles aching from exertions they had never experienced before.

"Sink me, I actually preferred the Soul Drainer," Osa groaned, massaging his shoulder. "Thing just wanted my life force, y'know? Not trying to break every single joint I've got. This Tanaga guy's the real monster here."

Radji, meticulously noting the day's exercises in his journal despite his fatigue, suddenly paused mid-sentence. "What's today's date?"

"Tuesday, why?" Saguna answered, then understood the implication immediately. The marks on his neck seemed to warm in response to his realization.

"Tomorrow is Wednesday," Radji said quietly, looking up at his companions.

A heavy silence fell between them as the significance registered. Wednesday—when the Veil was thinnest.