Ranvir let the curtain shut behind him as he rolled his neck. Yngvar was currently expressing a range of scintillating lights over the swollen ankle of a girl. She was maybe five or six years old, if Ranvir were to guess. He assumed the broad backed figure standing next to the fourth year was her father, though he couldn’t see much in terms of detail.

Idly, he lifted the hammer slightly out of its sheath on his hip to alleviate some of the pressure. While the weapon wasn’t the heaviest hammers got, even single handed ones, it was still a solid two kilos, which didn’t sound bad. But once it’s hung there for four hours, the belt was starting to dig painfully into his waist.

Last week’s excursion had gone pretty well, despite the somewhat ominous beginning. They were a lot busier this week though, Herlu and Kalf already had to break up two fights and it was barely past noon.

Walking over to one of the tables at the walls, he noted the melting line of ice running the perimeter of the tent. I’ll have to get Sansir to remake it. It wasn’t a sophisticated alarm system, but the crunch of feet on the thin brittle ice was an effective warning, if one remembered to look out for it. And with Dovar in the room, someone definitely was.

Grabbing a cup, he dipped it into one of the buckets set aside, before heading back into the waiting area. “Here you go.” Ranvir said, handing the cup off to an elderly woman. She sat back bowed on her chair, her breath audible despite her lack of strain.

“Thank you, dear.” She reached up and cupped his cheek before putting both hands on the cup. It still shook slightly, but it didn’t spill over as she took a sip. “Nice and cold.”

Ranvir smiled as he straightened.

“Remember,” She continued stopping him before he could leave. “You shouldn’t let those nobles infest you. You know what they’ve done to our people.”

Ranvir frowned, his gaze flickering to Grev, who was talking with a nervous looking teenager. “I’m not from the city.” He said, turning back to the old woman. “So I really wouldn’t know. We don’t have much in the way of nobles where I’m from.”

“Must be nice.” She muttered. “Not much they can hurt there.”

Ranvir bit his lip as he drew back from her. A blurry outline in gold on black appearing in his mind. He took a slow breath, slowing the flooding of wounded red that wanted to spill out inside him.

Instead, he walked over to Sansir. “Your perimeter is melting.” Ranvir warned him, looking over the waiting room. It was quieter as most people were eating lunch.

Sansir nodded as he too scanned the room. It took nearly fifteen minutes to make a solid frozen line all the way around the perimeter of the tent, after which he needed at least a five minute break. If he’d been a manipulator, he might’ve managed it faster as he would’ve simply been able to refreeze the water with the ice he had left.

While he retained control over the ice he made, as it started melting that control lessened until he couldn’t touch it anymore. Manipulators had a much larger spectrum within which their element lay that they could affect.

“I’ll get on it now.” Sansir said. As Sansir walked off, Ranvir leaned against his desk looking out over the waiting area. The nervous teenager was significantly less nervous looking now, laughing at one of Grev’s jokes. The old lady seemed to have fallen asleep with her cup of water. Ranvir winced, if she dropped it he would likely have to clean it up. There were a few other people waiting to get their injuries looked at, though none looked severe.

“Ranvir.” Sansir called from the operation room. “I think maybe Es needs your help.”

Slipping past the curtain, Ranvir found Sansir kneeling next to one of the walls. He could clearly sense the ball of cold that was his friend’s power. In the middle of the room, next to a slab Yngvar was drying his hands on a cloth, before light coalesced around them. He sensed some sort of cleaning effect from the light. He didn’t search too deep, his senses too primitive or weak to fully grasp the Concept the Sword was working with.

Dovar was off to the side, talking with a man while a few meters away Esmund was smiling and laughing with the little girl as he had most of a roll of bandages spilled around them.

Rolling his eyes, Ranvir strode over. “Do you need help?” He asked his brother.

Es shot him a sidelong look, his mouth quirked as he looked from Ranvir to the girl and back. “Nooo, I got this.”

“No you don’t! Look, it’s all over the table!” The girl giggled. Getting closer, Ranvir thought she was four, maybe five years old. Much of the swelling he’d seen when Yngvar was helping her had abated, though not entirely.

“Fine.” Esmund said, sounding exasperated. “Maybe I could use a little help.”

“Alright then.” Ranvir said. He made an effort to speak slowly and clearly, trying to portray confidence. He knew more than the rest of the team about dressing with bandages, with the likely exception of Yngvar. “You really made a mess of this roll.” Ranvir commented grinning at Es.

The girl giggled as the small tethered pouted at Ranvir’s comment in an exaggerated manner. “I did not!”

Ranvir looked at the girl and rolled his eyes, before winking. Presently, he had her ankle wrapped up and ready to go.

“Now, remember.” Esmund said, as she sat on the edge of slab. “Don’t put your weight on it for the rest of the day. Healer Yngvar took care of the brunt of the work, but your foot still needs its rest, okay?”

“Thank you for your help.” Ranvir had seen the man approaching them as he finished his talk with Dovar. He was a little taken aback by the man’s age. He couldn’t be more than a few years older than them.

“Daddy!” The girl cheered, lifting her arms to be picked up. He looked to be four years or so older than them. And he had a four year old.

“Not a problem.” Esmund replied, offering his hand as the dad shifted his daughter to one arm. They shook briefly. “As I told your daughter, keep pressure off it for the rest of the day and she should recover fine within a few days.”

The man looked over his shoulder, to where Dovar was helping Yngvar with the old woman. From his brief glance, Ranvir saw her cupping more than one feel of the young man’s chest and shoulders as he helped her onto a slab. “Your friend said as much.” He turned back to them. “It’s good to know there are good people in the academy.”

Ranvir smiled and nodded.

Shouts pierced the curtain separating the waiting- and operation room. Ranvir exchanged a glance with Esmund, before striding off resting his hand on the head of his hammer. Behind him, he heard Es assure them that everything was going to be okay.

Entering the waiting room, Ranvir saw Grevor sitting with his back against one of the desks, holding a hand over his nose, blood flowing between his fingers. He had a slightly glazed look on his face.

The rest of the room was clear, with only the teenager, now nervous again, waiting in one corner. Outside, beyond the entrance, he could hear shouting. Herlu and Kalf were also missing from their post at the door.

“You okay?” Ranvir asked, kneeling next to his friend, as he dug around in his pockets for a cloth or something to help with the bleeding. The only thing he had was the patch of silk. Cursing to himself, he handed the cloth to Grevor. It was going to be expensive to replace.

Grevor nodded to him shakily, taking the cloth and holding it to his nose. His words slurred as he spoke, “He sucker-punched me.”

Ranvir could see the blood around his mouth. “This probably shouldn’t become a habit, should it?” Clapping him on the shoulder, Ranvir rose and pulled aside the curtain to the operation room. “Grevor’s been hit in the face. He seems a little out of it.”

Yngvar cursed, muttering to Dovar who had already been looking at the curtain nervously. “I got him, you go help Herlu and Kalf.”

Ranvir nodded, stepping away. “Are you okay?” He asked, briefly stopping to get a nod from the teenager.

He stepped out of the tent to a stalemate. Herlu was holding down a man twice his size in a simple arm lock. Smoke flowed from a stone lying in a puddle, most of it either flowing into the man’s face or directly up, ignoring the wind until it was half a dozen meters into the air.

Despite the weight advantage, the man was too busy coughing to fight the grip on his arm. In front of them stood Kalf. He looked mostly unchanged, though he felt like an obsidian tipped claw to Ranvir’s senses. Light reflected off black fingernails, as he stood his ground against four other men. Ranvir could only assume these men were friends of the man from their outrage and the vitriol they were spewing in their direction.

Instantly, orange and yellow flares flickered inside Ranvir, putting him on edge. Raising a hand, Ranvir stepped forwards. How would Grevor handle this? He thought to himself. Clenching his jaw, his looked at the four men who had now turned their attention on him. He was still further back than Kalf, from his assessment of the smoke rising from the rysten in the puddle, he should still be within Herlu’s Veil.

“Is this a fight you want to pick?” He glared at them, trying to catch the feeling he’d found during the weapon tournament. Despite finding it quite easily a few times since then, it now avoided him entirely.

He heard a rustle of cloth from behind him, feeling the massive body moving through the curtain into the waiting room. Seconds later, he saw the men falter as a shadow fell over him. A scuffle of footsteps, rattle of a sheath as Grevor gained his feet and joined Dovar, followed by Yngvar’s footsteps.

“Let him go.” Grev said, his voice was steady again.

Herlu let the man go, shoving him towards his friends. Only a few of them risked ducking closer to pull him to his feet. They exchanged looks before retreating. Yngvar’s team watched the group retreat in silence. Sansir appeared from behind one of the stalls, moments after the attackers passed it, his axe drawn though he didn’t pursue.

His sudden appearance turned their retreat into a full out run as they scrambled to get away.

“Well done.” Yngvar said. “Close the entrance. We treat the last injured and then debrief.”

“Yes sir.”