The summer days neared their end and the morning chill made that clear.

  Daylight poked out from the horizon and mist exuded from the greens. The scent of virtually every plant hit Quin’s nose before he placed his mask down.

  Slumber dominated the area still. Outside of a few cracks, he only heard the sound of his steps on wet grass.

  The city life left him unaccustomed to the outdoors with its calm nature and serenity. Never had he heard such silence.

  A few yards ahead, tinkered Conon who stood before a heap of rocks. Through ghost arts, he collected the rocks with a short [Ghost Chain] he produced.

  He employed modest tugs to lift them off the ground then he stacked them on top of each other with a crack from the chain.

  He did this repeatedly until he had nine such stacks arrayed in rows of three by three.

  “Ah yer awake,” Conon said as he beckoned Quin over. “I think I have something to help you wit’ yer...what is it...perce-something? Something like that.”

  “What is this suppose to do?” Quin asked while he reached out to one of the columns.

  “D’aaaaahh! Don’t touch ‘em brother. That’s the name of the game. It’s something we did back home. The goal is to get a clean hit wit’out knockin’ the rocks over.”

  “Wait. You want me to hit you?”

  “You can try but really, I want you to not hit the rocks. You got it?”

  The task seemed easy enough. Quin wasn’t so sure he could attack his teammate though. He ended up in this predicament because he put his hands on another Cosondere.

  Still, Conon had planned this game for Quin’s sake. At the very least, he could play along.

  “I appreciate the help you’re doing for me Conon,” Quin said. “Also, I’m sorry about all this. We could be out doing Cosondere stuff, but we’re here going over basic things.”

  “Don’t bother yerself wit’ that um...Quin right? Yeah, this is all so we can work together. Team buildin’ stuff. There’ll be time for those other things later.”

  After a moment of stretches and contemplation, Quin readied himself before Conon. They unfastened their bottom clasps and stood at the ready across from one another.

  The rocks were behind him, yet Conon kept a straight face. He stood like a statue, prepared for the incoming offense.

  In a blink, Quin rushed forward and unleashed a quick jab. Conon caught and deflected it, but with a little more ease than anticipated.

  Many more punches followed, each one dealt with in the same fashion. Conon’s face began to sink.

  “Are you even tryin’?” he asked.

  Quin tried to try, but he generated little force behind his attacks.

  His arms moved like clockwork, but hesitation pulled his punches. Conon had nothing in common with Orpes nor Preth, Quin felt no compulsion to hit him.

  Conon didn’t seemed flattered one bit.

  “This won’t take you anywhere,” he pointed out. “You’ll never win the team over if this is all you can do.”

  Those words bounced in Quin’s head and in one motion, he exerted more energy into his strikes; Conon had to speed up his blocks.

  Nothing would change if Quin gave little effort. His spirit caught up with his efforts.

  Suddenly on the back foot, Conon’s face showed surprise though he still avoided every strike. Quin quickened his pace and pressed further.

  One deflected punch put Conon’s arm too low and Quin saw the opening he needed. He targeted Conon’s shoulder and wound up his arm for a punch.

  Conon simply sidestepped out of the way and the defenseless column became Quin’s target. He tried to check back but to no avail.

  The stack before him was smashed. Worse yet, some of the rocks flew as projectiles that smacked against adjacent columns and they too were toppled.

  Conon tilted his head at the scattered stones. “Whoever knocks down the pile has to stack ‘em back up. I did it once ‘n’ I ain’t doin’ it again.”

  “I have to stack them all back myself?” Quin asked before he glanced over at the mess. “But I can’t use my arts to put them in place like you did.”

  “Sounds like you should stop hittin’ the rocks then brother.”

  “Yo!” voiced Ythan from yards away. He and Onyl stood by the camp as they caught a glimpse of the action. “We’re going to survey around! Keep guard!”

  “You got it bossman!” Conon replied as a stack tumbled over from Quin’s hand. “We’ll be here!” He turned to Quin. “What if that pile was Ner. Fyful? Imagine how he’d feel.”

  Quin froze at the thought for a moment. It likely would had been the last mistake he’d ever make.

  Eventually, the stacks were back in place. Quin and Conon stood ahead of each other again. This time, the columns were to their side, Quin’s right and Conon’s left.

  Quin launched himself at Conon and the scrap resumed. He took shots at Conon’s midsection but Conon denied every one.

  He sought to find an opening along Conon’s upper body, but Conon wasn’t fooled. His hands followed Quin’s wherever they went.

  This kept on until Conon dodged one of the rare strikes above the neck, he shifted over to his right.

  Conon sidestepped to have the rocks behind Quin but the new Tyroviv noticed. He countered Conon’s every turn with one of his own and the stacks stayed out of the way.

  Round and round they went until another opportunity showed itself.

  Conon shifted too close to one column and couldn’t move further without a collision. Quin inched around to close Conon off and give him little room to maneuver.

  He lifted a leg to kick Conon’s torso. He believed he had Conon trapped and that it would soon be his turn to pick up the mess.

  To his shock and chagrin, Quin’s leg phased through Conon and instead of the success to get his teammate into the pile, Quin kicked over another stack. Another scattering occurred.

  “Hey, you didn’t say you were going to use your ghost arts,” Quin argued as he threw his arms up.

  Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

  “I didn’t say I wasn’t now did I?” Conon argued back. He stretched an arm out to the heap of rocks. “That could’ve been Onyl. Imagine how she’d feel.”

  Quin shuddered slightly as he gathered up the stones once more. Trial and error took over for a bit but eventually, here stocked them again. It wouldn’t be the last time.

  Again and again, another stack would fall, the result of a missed punch or kick. Quin tried to add some distance between the columns after every spill. It mattered little.

  Only the onset of dusk put an end to the game. Quin never scored a hit, a fact that stewed in his head that evening and into dinner.

  Ythan was in the tent where he tended to whatever matter he had. The rest of the squad sat next to the fire and chowed on a skewered assortment of meats and vegetables.

  Onyl took small bites of her food. Conon devoured his meal as if he had been starved for days.

  Quin however just looked down at his pierced batch of nutrients. His mask sat beside him and his sagged, exhausted face displayed itself in full.

  “Don’ be so don on yurself butha,” Conon mumbled as he chewed. “Only so mush can happ’n in a day. Ain’t that right Onyl?”

  Onyl pointed at her closed mouth as she chewed through her meal, all with her typical scowl.

  “But y’know, the whole thing could go faster if we had some help. A real team experience, all of us workin’ together. How ‘bout it Onyl, will you help us out?”

  Finished with her food, Onyl had a chance to reply. Her only answer however was to stand up and walk away before she quickly disappeared in the low visibility of darkness.

  Quin gnawed at his lip as the stress gnawed at his heart.

  “Don’t get too worried brother,” Conon advised with no concern. “If she didn’t say no, there’s still a chance. Give her time ‘n’ she’ll warm up to ya.”

  Quin nodded his head; it was all he could do. He briefly stared into the fire before he looked at his food where its savory aroma finally opened his appetite.

  Parts of his food were charred, most of it salty. But like Conon, he couldn’t control himself as he took bite after bite.

  The warmth from the fire filled in for his mask as sweat poured down his face. The scene wasn’t so quiet in the morning, but the crickets and their nightly routine helped to put Quin at ease until Ythan popped in from the dark.

  He picked up his cooked meal from the fire then stared at Quin with a stern face as he bit into his food. The heat had no effect on his tongue.

  “You,” he addressed Quin as he finished his bite. “I heard about your flailings yesterday. I don’t care what reason my father had for putting you here, you will not put this squad in jeopardy. You will stay in the background and stay out of the way. Got it?”

  Quin kept his eyes away from the blue cloak. “Got it.”

  Ythan took his meal with him as he faded into the dark outline of the woods. Quin’s appetite faded as well as he looked down at his food again.

  If every day ended up like yesterday, it would probably be to his benefit to keep out of the action.

  But if he stayed to himself. Stayed in the background. Stayed out of the action, then things would never improve. He would always be seen as the weak link.

  His lips migrated to one side of his face as he tightened his hands into fists. He didn’t want his days to be like yesterday. He didn’t want tomorrow to be like today either.

  More than ever, he needed to prove he had what it took to fully contribute to his squad.

  “Conon,” Quin pronounced as he stood up with eyes straight ahead. “I want to do more of that training tomorrow.”

  “Yeah yeah we will,” Conon said as he tossed his skewer. “Like I said, don’t-”

  “No. I don’t want to jeopardize the team. I don’t want to be in the way the whole time. I’ll make it work. I’ll make this right.”

  Quin picked up his mask and walked off. The sudden intensity gave Conon a blank face as his eyes zipped to and fro.

  “Sheesh,” he muttered to himself. “Remindin’ me less of Coty ‘n’ more like Onyl.”

  If Conon thought that intensity lessened the next morning, he found out straight away how wrong he was.

  As dusk gave way to sunrise and Conon emerged from the tent to greet the day, he saw Quin already at work with the column of rocks.

  The summer days weren’t over just yet as the morning produced less of a chill than before. It meant less time for stretches and more time to get back to it. Just what Quin wanted.

  The two men stood across from one another once more. The stacks were to their sides yet again, Quin’s left; Conon’s right.

  Quin bent his knees slightly and prepared himself to launch when out of the corner of his eye, he saw two spectators.

  Unlike the day prior when they left Quin and Conon to themselves, Onyl and Ythan elected to stand by the smoldered remains of the campfire to get a full view of the action.

  Quin tensed up at the idea of Ythan watching him but he thought about the prior evening. If he wanted to change Ythan’s opinions, Quin had his moment. At the very least, he could show to his boss that he doesn’t flail.

  He took his focus away from Ythan and aimed it at Conon who braced himself. Their cloaks slightly danced under a soft breeze. The moment it stopped, Quin started.

  More of the same followed. Conon blocked or dodged every strike Quin sent. The only sounds heard were claps, smacks, and rustled cloaks.

  Again, Quin answered Conon’s shifts with shifts of his own until his back faced a precariously piled stack.

  Conon kept on the defense when he noticed the audience by the camp. In a blink, his posture changed.

  He dropped to a crouch; his leg swung for Quin’s ankle. Briefly surprised, Quin reacted fast. He jumped over Conon’s sweep kick with his legs extended out. With the rocks behind him, he made sure to leap in one direction.

  Conon wasn’t done. Just as sudden as his crouch, he bounced back up and planned to catch Quin with a shoulder check to knock him into the rocks.

  Quin had another quick response. Just as he landed on the tip of his boots, he pivoted away from Conon’s thrust and finished his twirl with a back kick.

  Predictably, it went right through the ghost artist but unlike the previous day, Quin halted his momentum and his foot stopped inches away from the rocks. Conon skirted out from Quin’s boot and backed away.

  “Thought I’d catch you wit’ some sudden offense,” Conon admitted with a motion of his finger. “Good on you for seein’ it comin’.”

  “You didn’t say you weren’t going to use offense,” Quin pointed out. “I figured you were going to do it sooner or later. Almost got me.”

  Quin’s new teammates continued to watch from afar. Neither Ythan nor Onyl looked particularly impressed, though neither seemed inclined to take their attention somewhere else.

  The two participants primed themselves up before Quin charged forward. Conon’s shift to offense added a new layer to the game but he soon realized Quin’s defense was on par with his.

  The game started to look less like a game and more like a spar as the two moved within the row of columns. The rocks which have yet to spill remained prominent in view.

  With Quin on the defense though, it gave him a chance to showcase his efforts from the Pit. In particular, he showed the grace Arelis had beaten into him.

  He ducked, swayed and evaded every strike all with loose limbs that flowed and moved as one.

  Across the field, Onyl raised an eyebrow while her mouth lowered slightly.

  Ythan closed his eyes and groaned. “...and he came from Arelis. Wonderful.”

  Conon’s face contorted with confusion but that wasn’t enough to give Quin an edge.

  It looked like the entire morning could go by without a single connected hit. Quin knew if things continued like this, he would eventually tire out first and get sloppy. That’s when he had an idea.

  He started to lose that flow in his movements. His arms started to swing a little haphazardly.

  A seeming repeat of the day before, Conon sensed the waning force behind Quin’s attacks and ditched his offense.

  With Conon’s back to the middle stack, Quin saw his chance. He made a shoulder thrust of his own to try and push Conon back to the column.

  Conon simply slid out of the way and saw his chance to get the win. Quin put all his weight onto that thrust and he ended up on the tip of his boots to keep balance.

  The moment arrived. Conon rose up his leg to make a hit on Quin’s back.

  It seemed like another clean up job would be in Quin’s future when at the last second, he pivoted away from Conon’s kick.

  While still in rotation, Quin immediately dipped low while he raised his elbow. It caught Conon’s leg as it lowered and shot it forward.

  Before Conon could even react, his leg was pressed against the stack and the rocks tumbled over. The two men froze in place for a moment as Quin’s elbow still kept Conon’s leg above the ground.

  Soon enough, the event registered and Quin rose up with a fist to the air.

  Whether by his elbow strike to Conon’s leg or by the contact that leg made with the rocks, it produced the same result: Quin’s feint worked. He had prevailed.

  “Pheeeww!” Conon exclaimed with a shrug. “Guess you got me brother. Still got a lot of catchin’ up to do if you wanna match my record from yesterday.”

  “Well hurry up and pick these rocks up so you can do it again,” Quin goaded.

  “Oh ho ho. Is that so huh? We’ll see if-”

  “Hey!” Ythan called out from the camp. “Since you two are done over there, you can start looking around over here!”

  The rematch would have to wait. As Quin approached his teammates, he didn’t notice a change of expression in either of them. Still, his spirits remained high.

  Maybe his endeavors didn’t move the needle, but he had to start somewhere. Sooner or later, he would change their view of him. He just had to push forward some more.

  The squad then dispersed, Ythan headed for the tent while Quin and Conon directed their focus to the wooded slopes below.

  Onyl remained where she stood with crossed arms as she looked at the mound of rocks then the two Tyrovivs.

  “Wait,” she told them before they moved further. “Those hicks from the other day are still close by. Keep your necks loose.”

  “Ah, good to know,” Conon said. “You didn’t tell ‘em anything to get ‘em riled up some more did you?”

  The space between Onyl’s eyebrows scrunched up. “I told them what they needed to hear. How they felt is immaterial.”

  Conon sighed and nodded. “Got it. We’ll keep our necks real loose then.”