The lounge was a beautiful relief from the cold outside, it’s hungry grasp still lingered on Ranvir’s ears and hands. The fireplace was warm and the room, while not crowded, was full of people. Idle chatter filled the room, talk of the day, talk of tomorrow, and talk of the distant future of the trimester break.

It was cozy Ranvir thought. A true winter’s eve, where camaraderie was high and animosity was low. Lately, the schedule had been extra rough, especially during physical and weapon training. Ranvir was exhausted, too worn down to really pay attention to anything going on in the room. Instead, he simply soaked in the atmosphere.

“This winter’s really harsh,” Grev commented after returning from warming his hands as the fireplace. From the corner of his eye, Ranvir saw Dovar nod in agreement alongside Kirs, even as he squinted in disbelief.

Es snorted in derision.

“City folk,” Sansir muttered nudging the Dagger’s shoulder.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Grev asked perking up a little even though he looked just as exhausted as Ranvir felt. “’City folk?’”

Esmund just waved his question away as Grev sat down next to Sansir.

“Seriously?” Kirs asked. “You’re not going to answer?”

“It’s not that bad,” Sansir relented under the combined stare of the two aforementioned ‘city folk’, though Dovar just watched in mild bemusement.

“We haven’t even had a proper snow storm, yet,” Esmund said. “I would hardly call this a winter at all.”

“Then what would you call the weather thing last week?” Kirs asked a little wide-eyed in disbelief.

“That was just windy,” Sansir said leaning back in the couch. They were, for once, not playing chess or having any secondary activity going on while talking, just simple relaxation. “A real snowstorm buries the roads and takes a combined effort to clear out.”

“What if you’ve got an ice tethered?” Dovar asked.

Sansir nodded acknowledgment to the taller tethered, “That would make it simpler, still we would’ve felt it if there was a proper snowstorm.”

“It’s crazy to think we’ve been here for longer than a woman’s pregnant,” Esmund butted in out of nowhere.

Everyone paused to look at him.

Even Ranvir managed to pull himself out of the cushions to look at his friend in disbelief.

“Where did that come from?” Grev asked. “Also no…”

Ranvir snapped his fingers half heartedly, “Because we’re in the third trimester, right? It hasn’t been nine months, Esmund. Only about seven and a half.”

Es blinked, looking dumbfoundedly from face to face, until Kirs finally broke and giggled hugging his arm to her chest.

“But it made sense in my head,” he muttered in weak reply.

Dovar burst into laughter, “you’re brilliant, Esmund.” He managed between gasps for air.

The tethered in question flushed, scratching at the back of his head. “I could’ve sworn…”

“You’re a bit off,” Sansir seemed to reconsider his words, “Well off, but if you measure from the time we left the village, you would be pretty close. There might be some babies back home who were conceived after we left that are about to be born.”

“I think Alser and Miny were actually pregnant so they might have a kid by now,” Ranvir added letting himself sink back into the couch.

“That’s still crazy…” Esmund muttered.

“Why did this come up…” Grev asked looking from Es to Kirs. “Are you…?”

Kirs straightened her face paling, “No, I’m not. I’m very regular, thank you very much. I take the herbs and…” she flushed, “other precautions.”

“I c-“ Esmund started to say with a goofy grin before Kirs slapped a hand over his mouth.

“That’s enough out of you!”

Grev grinned in obvious amusement, Dovar was flushing so hard Ranvir worried his might rupture a blood vessel, and Sansir was just shaking his head. Ranvir decided to turn his attention away from his friends, before he found out anymore secrets than he wanted to know.

Just in time, too. Maybe he’d unconsciously sensed the movement, or he just had impeccable timing.

The door burst open, “There’s a fight!” the student in the doorway yelled before taking off again.

The lounge quietened before a sudden rush of motion as every teenage boy within the room felt the sudden urge to see what it was about. Even Ranvir was halfway up from his seat, before he considered if it would be better to avoid it. By then both Es and Grev had already joined the crowd, pushing for the door.

Looking amongst themselves, Dovar, Sansir, Kirs, and Ranvir shared a sigh before walking after them. Through the sheer size and bulk of Sansir and Dovar, they made good time. Soon enough they started hearing the yelling.

Ranvir, who—along with Kirs—had brought a footrest, predicting the crowds would be too heavy to see through. They ended up sharing them with Sansir and Dovar, there was only so much above-average height could over come after all.

The crowd had gathered around maybe ten or so students, creating a clearing within the hallway. They yelled, teased, and otherwise egged on the students brawling. One was currently getting to his feet. He looked of average size but had a compact build. He was no taller than Ranvir, though he moved with the same kind of grace as Grevor or Dovar, though his had an angry nature to it that put Ranvir’s back up.

This is bad… Ranvir thought watching as Angry Grace stalked towards another pair fighting. This isn’t sparring, his tunic’s too ripped up. His brow’s split and bleeding. Ranvir swallowed watching him jump on one of the other fighters, bringing them to the ground where his friend could kick him. Before the kicker could hit the downed opponent again he was taken down by a flying tackle, the crowd oohing from the impact.

That had to at least crack ribs, Ranvir thought then saw how Angry Grace hammered fists into his downed opponents head with fervor. He recognized that kind of desperate fighting. He fought like that on the streets of the capital. We’ve got to stop this… he looked around the crowd, but how? They aren’t going to just let this go.

Blood was now pouring from the downed opponent’s own brow as he kept getting clobbered.

“You’ve got to do something,” Kirs muttered looking at them with fear in her eyes.

Ranvir felt it too, long legs painted in pale violet, delicately walking across his stomach, setting it to roiling with ill feelings. In contrast, the red presence emerged to the surface of his mind eager for the combat. The struggle.

A newcomer joined in the fight, kicking Angry Grace full in the face. Ranvir heard the crunch of something from all the way in the back, feeling the tension shift with a clenching in his stomach. Sickly green nausea rose within the landscape of his emotions. Judging from the spray of blood and Angry Grace’s limp body it had probably been his nose that had broken. Or at least, Ranvir hoped it was only his nose.

Presences were moving up the stairs. The fight was taking place in front of one of the lounges closest to the big stairs, so he felt their approach with clarity. When did he even embrace the pressure? He’d deliberately left it after finishing After Period practice knowing he needed the rest.

Masters. Ranvir jumped off the footrest, shooing Dovar off as well.

“Get off and to the side,” Ranvir told Kirs and Sansir, already moving towards the wall.

The others had barely gotten out of the way when three teachers in masters’ uniforms appeared at the top of the stairs. They made their way towards the crowd with sure steps.

“Enough!” Master Svenar walking at the front yelled. His face was purple with anger, the red veins in his left eye standing out clearly. He was fairly boiling with power, enough that Ranvir felt it pressing against his own native presence. If this had happened during the beginning of the year, Svenar would’ve had him drooling on the floor again.

As it stood currently, he just felt nauseous and more than a little unsteady on his feet. Next to him, he saw a student start to sway then fall into the arms of his fellows, all of them coming together to form a slowly collapsing structure.

Ayvir, who walked just behind Master Svenar, was moderately more controlled, maybe from seeing Svenar’s effect on the students. Though, by the time Ranvir’s eyes focused on Svenar again the master had reined in his power, no longer making students fall unconscious.

“There will be no unsanctioned sparring, nor fighting on the academy!” Svenar yelled at the students who’d stopped their fighting. By this point their numbers have grown to the high tens. On a quick count Ranvir noticed six people unconscious or barely moving on the floor, Angry Grace among them. “This is beyond reprehensible. You are not beggars fighting in the streets for scraps. You’re soldiers. You’re training to protect your fellow students, your men, your country, and your people.”

Master Svenar grabbed one of the students by his arm, while grabbing something on his collar. With a forceful tug, the master tore it off the student’s uniform pulling the student forward as well.

“These,” Svenar said holding up a red droplet pin. “Are not a required part of the uniform. This is an expression of an opinion, it’s a luxury,” he turned to the students. “One that you’ve just lost.”

Meanwhile, more people reached the top of the stairs. Fifth-years. There were fewer fifth-years than brawlers, but they rounded the students up, gathering the confused and students that were slowly coming to in another group. The masters watched in silence as the fifth-years led the students out.

“After their time in confinement I hope they will know better than to do this again,” Master Svenar said. “Of course, I hope the same for you. You only get one warning. If you’ve been caught in a fight and you put a pin on your uniform, of any kind! You’ve forfeited your right to further education and can serve the rest of your military time on the front lines.”

He looked over the room glaring at each of the students, “Goodnight.” Then he, Master Ayvir, and the third master walked out, leaving the muttering students behind.