Bright Flame, Deep Shadow (lesbian story)

Flick

The days pass in a blur of study, eat, sleep, repeat; before I know it, I'm standing in the training hall. Today, it's been reserved just for me. My muscles ache from this morning's assault course, and my brain aches even more from three days of theory exams. I haven't had time to shower today, and I reek of a fascinating mix of sweat, mud, and something which smells too much like manure to be comfortable. I think the idea is that for the final test, it recreates a scenario we could actually face as assassins—trekking through a swamp for days to get to a remote target or something.

I'm too excited to be disgusted. This time tomorrow, I'll be an assassin. Or at least, an assassin-in-training.

But only if I can perform now.

I scan the audience crammed into the benches on the closest wall of the cavernous training hall. I'm surprised at the number of people who turned up, even if it is a rest day; there's people from every year group and even a few teachers. Professor Martel is there, in deep conversation with Professor Kertes, the dour military tactics teacher who once threw a stick of chalk at Ardyan for passing notes. A whole one, straight from the box for maximum impact. I'm the first student to graduate in at least four months, and everyone's anticipation of my final test makes the air buzz with anticipation.

I catch Arabella's eye—she's sat on the top row of benches, a few feet away from everyone else, wool hat obscuring her eyes. Even so, she grins when she sees me staring. I smile back, though in my state it probably makes me look a little crazy. Hestia's sitting one row below her, and she waves excitedly, though there's a worried crease to her brow and I realise Ardyan is missing again. I wave back, before returning my attention to the task at hand. I can't let myself be distracted by other people's relationship drama now.

My opponent still isn't here yet. Councillor Orsola Grumach, from the Department of Ethereal Affairs, is supposed to test my close combat abilities, but she must still be warming up or something.

I allow my eyes to rove around the cave which has served as my training hall for the past eleven years. I've barely ever used my powers outside of here—it's strictly forbidden, in fact—and suddenly, like a fledgling reluctant to fly the nest, I don't want to leave.

I'm actually going to miss this school.

The doors behind me bang open and Professor Tanvik sweeps into the room. Everyone instantly falls silent, even the other teachers. He says nothing, his eyes fixed only on me. There's a prideful glint in them and it makes me shudder to think what will happen if I fail this test, so I turn my attention to the woman he's no doubt spent the last few hours bragging about me to.

I researched Councillor Grumach in the library yesterday, when she arrived here. She's been responsible for recruiting Shadow sorcerers into the King's forces for fifteen years. Before that, she was an advisor to a Shadow Regiment—a specialist section of the army who wait in the shadows until the enemy has been weakened and divided, before striking the final blow with devastating force. She's not a Shadow, though; she's a Seer, able to see all possible outcomes of a specific situation. Or at least, she was a Seer. She must be past sixty, so I doubt she's still able to use her powers much, if at all. That doesn't mean she can't fight me, though. As an advisor, she went out into the field and helped her Shadow Regiment prepare for their offensives, so she knows Shadows and how they fight almost as well as we know ourselves. The one passage I'd found on Councillor Orsola Grumach made me expect a warrior, with scars on her face and a voice like an earthquake.

In reality, she looks like a dancer.

Grumach is even smaller than Tanvik—she probably only comes up to my shoulder. Her long, plaited hair is the colour of slate, and her face is set with deep lines. Despite her age, she moves with natural grace, her hands poised at her sides as if she's constantly feeling for strands, though I know that's impossible. Maybe it's just a habit she picked up from all the years she spent with Shadows. When our eyes meet, her mouth twitches up in a smile, and I can see it in the tilt of her chin and the point of her toes: this woman is deadly, and I will not beat her.