Xerxes trudged numbly back to his room after hearing the announcement. He felt happy for Gandash. A little bit. But at the same time, he felt a vaguely uncomfortable prickling sensation in his heart.

Opening the door, he found a brown envelope sealed with wax. The front had his name on it. Inside was a folded piece of parchment paper.

Seer Xerxes,

You have been assigned to dorm room 372.

Your primary teacher is Mystic Rabya in the Black Jackal classroom.

Good luck.

He crumpled the paper and envelope together and threw them in the waste bin. Then he started tossing his belongings together.

My teacher’s a Mystic? he thought. That’s it?

He felt a bit let down. All of the recent lectures and training had been by Archons, or the headmaster himself, who was a High Archon, leading him to assume his teacher would be one of them. His mood dipped. Were all the teachers lowly Mystics, or was it just his teacher?

Guess I’ll find out soon enough.

Gandash’s belongings were already gone. Had the school sent people to handle that? Was his friend already getting special treatment?

He suddenly thought back to his conversation with Purattu not too long ago.

“I guess it’s better to be an officer?” Xerxes had asked.

“Yes,” Purattu had answered. “If nothing else, the pay is better.”

His lips tightened. Good job, Gandy. Getting richer by the day, I see.

The halls were busy as students packed their belongings and headed to their new sleeping quarters. When he stepped into dorm room 372, a grin appeared on his face.

“Xerk?” said Enusat, peeping over the edge of one of the top bunks. “Xerk! You’re with us?”

Jad was there, unpacking his belongings. And Kashtiliash was already in one of the bottom bunks, his head on the pillow.

“The Humusi Swordmasters?” Xerxes said. “Together in one room? This is going to be amazing.”

“Swordmasters minus one,” Kashtiliash said.

Enusat tapped his chin. “Right, Teucer ain’t ‘ere.”

Xerxes threw his pack onto the only free bunk, the one above Kashtiliash. “I guess this one’s mine.”

The room was small. In fact, it hardly seemed larger than the one he’d previously shared with Gandash, except this one had bunk beds. And the study tables were smaller.

Noticing him sizing up the room, Jad said, “Not the most spacious place I’ve been in.”

Kashtiliash grunted again. “Could be worse.”

Xerxes climbed the ladder and sat on the top bunk. His hair brushed the ceiling. “At least we Swordmasters are all together, right? How much longer do we have before the lecture starts?”

Just like the temporary room from before, there was a timepiece above the doorway. Glancing at it, Jad said, “Fifteen minutes. Probably shouldn’t be late for the first class, huh?”

“We should find the classroom,” Enusat said, “and make sure we get good seats. In the back.”

Jad and Kashtiliash laughed.

And yet, that’s exactly what they did. The Black Jackal classroom was at the end of the hall on the second floor. At the front were a lectern and a wide table. The rest of the room had eight two-person tables, four on either side, with a row up the middle. When the Swordmasters showed up, the front two tables were occupied by Seers that Xerxes vaguely recognized but didn’t know by name.

At the right-hand table was a pretty girl with her hair buzzed short, which meant she was from Sin-Masu. Seated with her was a girl with numerous piercings in her ears, nose, and lip. That meant she was from Al-Ga. On the other side of the aisle were two young men, one who had nearly as many piercings as the girl opposite him, and the other with a shaved head.

The Humusi Swordmasters took the back row. Jad and Enusat on the left. Kashtiliash and Xerxes on the right.

A few minutes later, Teucer entered along with a young man with long sideburns, who was Laxu.

When Teucer saw them, he smiled broadly. “I knew it!” he said, and he sat in the aisle in front of them.

Three more students arrived in quick succession after that. A somewhat overweight young man with droopy jowls, accompanied by a girl so short and skinny Xerxes wondered if she was even a teenager yet. Right behind them was a young man with skin that almost looked auburn.

And then Katayoun poked her head into the room, and Xerxes’ foul mood evaporated completely.

“Is this the Black Jackal classroom?” she asked.

“Hey, Kat!” he said, a bit more loudly than he intended. Lowering his voice, he continued, “Yeah, this is Black Jackal.”

“See, I told you,” she said to her companion as she stepped into the classroom. It was the same olive-skinned young woman who had been in Katayoun’s carriage when they arrived on their first day.

“Have a seat anywhere you like,” Xerxes said, gesturing at the table in front of him and immediately feeling stupid for his wording.

He felt Kashtiliash’s elbow jabbing him in the side.

“Smooth,” the bearded Seer said in a low tone.

“Shut up,” Xerxes whispered.

Before there was any further chance for talking, Mystic Rabya entered the room. It was obvious who she was, not just from her robes, but from the way she carried herself. She was attractive, with arching eyebrows and full lips, but was clearly on the older side, with wisps of gray in the black hair that she kept tightly braided and bound with bronze bands.

“Hey,” Jad whispered, gesturing with his finger. “Look!”

Mystic Rabya carried a bundle of papers under one arm and had a pack and a weapon slung over her shoulder. A longsword.

“‘Oly shit,” Enusat whispered.

“Watch the language,” Rabya said, casting a look at Enusat.

“Sorry,” the big-nosed Seer said, looking abashed.

“I’m not a prude,” the teacher continued, putting the papers onto the lectern before placing her sword and pack onto the table. “But I’d prefer to keep things professional.”

Stepping back to the door, she shut it.

“Now, first things first. The blood oath.”