Fritz and his team were halfway through running their laps when Adam arrived in the Tallmast training hall. It was somewhat surprising to have him arrive late, but more surprising that he had brought along Elliot. Judging from the state of their clothes and their slight panting they had run there.

His brother's chest rose and fell in steady, well-practised breaths, showing that he was used to such strenuous exercise. Clad in training gear, including a rapier buckled to his belt, he stared around at the hall, his eye catching on the large Treasure lantern that hung from the roof.

He gawked at it for a moment before Adam lightly pushed him on the back.

"Go join in. Match pace with your brother if you can," he ordered.

"Yes, Sir!" Elliot replied, swiftly obeying.

Fritz thought that Elliot would make a straight line for him, or wait for him to pass, but the too honest lad started immediately and tried to catch up by following their path. While it was a commendable attempt, he wouldn't be able to match the pace of Pathers such as themselves.

Or so Fritz had thought.

It turned out things weren't so simple. Elliot, while leveless, had all the accumulated stamina of a seasoned runner. Though he struggled at the start, he was eventually able to slip into stride right beside Fritz, then, with a pointed smirk, he started to pull ahead.

Determined not to lose to his brother, Fritz sped up, relying on his Attributes to catch up, then put distance between them. Again, Elliot pushed himself even harder and was nearly sprinting at his side. Annoyed at his brother's stubbornness, Fritz suffused his legs with loping Grace, causing his feet to fall more fluidly and allowing him to dash deftly forward.

Elliot responded with brute force and bitter will, running as hard as his unenhanced body would allow. The team fell behind as the two siblings raced.

To Fritz's grim frustration, he found that he was the one who slowed first. He blamed his heavy bones and his comparatively poor conditioning. Steadily, surely, heaving like a bellows, his brother passed him with a furious grin plastered on his sweating, red face.

Fritz wanted to cast Lethargy on him, but decided against it. Instead, he pushed as hard as he could until they were side by side again. It was ridiculous that they were so evenly matched; he was the older, taller brother and had Attributes both Base and Advanced. How could he possibly have to fight so hard to beat out his leveless sibling?

He put his gripes aside for now and focused only on winning this impromptu contest. There was no way he was going to lose, it would be beyond shameful.

Soon, it was only he and Elliot running. Fritz pulled ahead and after another minute of fierce competition, his brother staggered to a stop.

Seeing he had won, Fritz slowed to a jog and then sat heavily on the ground, sucking in huge breaths. His head spun and his stomach lurched, he almost lost his mana-dense breakfast. To his satisfaction, Elliot didn't look much better.

"What was that!? What do you two think you're doing!?" Adam barked.

Fritz and his brother stared dazedly at the glaring mountain of muscle.

"Running laps," Fritz croaked.

"Keeping pace," Elliot wheezed.

"Are all Hightides stubborn idiots?" Adam groused. "Nevermind, I know the answer."

"I think Thea got all the sensibility," Fritz said, between breaths.

Elliot shook his head and rasped out, "Not at all. She's just as bad."

Fritz laughed and it came out as a whistling whine.

"Is that Fritz's brother?" Rosie asked with some interest.

"That's right," Adam said. "If you've heard of the duels, you'll know why he's here."

They had and they did.

Rosie tilted her head. "Doesn't look much like Fritz. Still handsome though."

"He looks an upstanding fellow," George agreed. "And a fellow swordsman, too," he added as if that were more important to him. Perhaps it was.

"I'm told I take after my maternal Grandfather, Francis Hightide the second," Elliot said, regaining his dignity and standing straight. He'd stopped panting so heavily, restored as he was by the light of the lantern. "A small irony that the third looks more alike to our father than his namesake."

"The third?" Lauren asked, turning on Fritz. "You're Lord Francis Hightide the third?"

Fritz smoothed away an approaching scowl. "Is that so surprising? These family names get passed down like unwanted, burdensome antiques. I simply suffer under their weight."

"Third Rate Fritz!" Bert cried. "If only I knew! That could have been your name. A much better one than the Scarlet Shade."

"I don't appreciate that sentiment, nor is that wholly true," Fritz argued.

"Family history!? Street names!? What is this, a back alley parlour!?" Adam barked. "Stop the gossiping and get to your regimens."

The team leapt into action, ceasing their talk and focusing on their individual exercises. Elliot was ordered to do what Fritz was currently assigned and he did so without complaint.

They stretched, lifted, rolled, lunged and tumbled, just as instructed, all while being corrected and provoked to push harder if Adam thought them incompetent or indolent. Which he usually did.

Galling as it was, Fritz had to admit his brother had no lack of physicality. Although Elliot had none of the advantages that the Spires' magic conferred, it was apparent that his long diligence had earned him an edge over those who had been starving only months before.

It seemed that the mana-dense foods, while allowing those who were malnourished to flourish again, didn't quite put them on par with those who had eaten well and exercised routinely and diligently for years. If Elliot had Attributes, Fritz was sure he wouldn't have been able to outpace him. That thought left a bitter taste in his mouth, though he reminded himself that most of his alignments were in the mental or Magical Attributes, so he shouldn't feel too embarrassed.

Halfway through training, Mathew appeared, looking pale and woozy. Likely, he'd indulged quite heavily in drink the previous night. As soon as the lordling had spied Fritz, he had made his way over, attempting to trap him in some conversation about the duels, if the gloating smile on his face was anything to go by.

Adam intercepted him before he had the chance to speak, ordering him to adhere to his regimen. The lord begrudgingly obliged, though his efforts were halfhearted at best.

After half an hour of struggle, training was over and only Fritz, George, Elliot and Mathew were left for their private sword lessons. Adam gave them nine minutes to rest before he would begin, and it was in these minutes that the Lordling approached Fritz.

"I heard you're due to die in a week, Hightide," Mathew taunted amiably.

"Die? I'm afraid you're mistaken, Lord," Fritz replied amiably. "I intend to defend my honour and my life, both of which are of great import to me."

"With your skill?" Mathew only slightly sneered. "Not a chance, Lloyd will cut you into pieces. He boasted as much, too, and I'm inclined to agree."

"You're so sure?" Fritz asked.

"Of course, the man has not one, but two, Sword Techniques. Both at Journeyman. What can you hope to do?"

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"Oh, is that so? Does he have anything else?" Fritz asked, feigning a yawn.

"He was successful in acquiring all he was aiming for in the Mer Spire," Mathew stated smugly. "And he said his father is lending them his House's Treasure Sword. Or so he claims." The lord let out an exaggerated sigh and shook his head in false dismay. "It really is too bad, another year or two of practice and you might have become a true swordsman. And in three you may have been his equal."

Fritz bristled at the mocking tone, but didn't let it show. Instead, he simply shrugged. "We'll just have to see."

"Oh, I definitely will, I've reserved one of the private boxes at the duelling arena. I want a good view when you're sliced in half, or deservingly decapitated."

"Why are you so giddy at the prospect of my brother's death? Has he done something to offend you, Lord?" Elliot asked, frowning deeply.

"Not really. Though if it weren't for him, I wouldn't have to be waking up at the crack of dawn and be stuck with these damn lessons every day," the lordling complained.

"That's a petty grudge, Lord," Elliot said seriously. "There are many in this city that would pray to be in your position."

"Let them pray, they're not me," Mathew drawled.

"Enough chatter," Adam said, striding toward the four men. "Pair off, George with Elliot, Lord Tallmast with Francis. Before you start sparring, Hightides, come with me for a moment."

They heeded his instructions, Adam strode to the wall where he had set down a long sack, the two brothers followed behind dutifully.

Adam picked up the sack and pulled free two practice rapiers. They were roughly forged of dark metal. He handed one to each of them.

Fritz frowned when he took his, then he scowled when he tested its weight and balance.

"This is too top-heavy. It's too unwieldy to spar with," Elliot stated first.

"It's too thick and weighty," Fritz agreed. "More a baton than a blade."

"You're correct on all accounts," Adam said with a grin. "But that's what you'll be using for the time being."

"Why?" Fritz endeavoured.

"You're going to practise your point control and train up those wrist muscles," Adam explained. "I want your parries to be as steady as a cage's bars and your ripostes to be as precise as an advocates invoice."

"They already are," Fritz said.

"No they're not. They're only passable at best. And only because you're cheating with your Attributes," Adam countered.

"Everyone uses their Attributes, that's hardly cheating," Fritz argued. "You can't turn them off. You even said so yourself."

"While that's true, I may have neglected a small point," Adam said, pulling out a bracelet of bright silver. He held it out to Fritz, who noticed a small, dainty charm in the shape of a starfish hanging from the finely wrought chain. "Put this on."

He did, trying not to grimace. It was more something a delicate Lady would wear than a proud Lord like himself. Still, he slid it on, then looked expectantly at his tutor, who just gave him the same expectant stare back.

"What now?" Fritz asked.

"Activate it," Adam said.

Fritz hesitated. "What does it do?"

"You'll see."

Fritz sighed and Activated the bracelet. Immediately, he felt strength slip away from his body, pooling out of him through his feet. He didn't stumble, but everything became heavier than it should be, especially the sword in his hand, which he lowered swiftly. The sensation reminded him of a time before he had aligned those six well-needed points to Strength.

"What is this?" he hissed, about to shake the Treasure off his wrist.

"A curse and a boon," Adam said. "It has an Imbuement that trades Strength for Focus."

"That's a terrible trade," Fritz declared.

"Usually I'd agree with you," Adam said. "But it's a great tool for training Techniques."

"Why is that, Sir Needle?" Elliot asked.

"The reason is twofold. Firstly, robbing you of magical enhancement forces you to improve your skill from the ground up. Secondly, the Focus is an advantage when trying to learn something new. There are other Treasures like this, of course, ones that curse different Attributes or give no boons at all, but this was the best I could trade for on such short notice. Really, I would have preferred one that traded Agility for Memory, that would have been a true blessing. Though you'll just have to make do with this one."

"So I'm meant to practise while cursed in this manner?" Fritz asked.

"Correct," Adam said.

"How long does it last?"

"An hour," Adam said. "And you'll use it on the hour as needed."

Fritz sighed.

"Elliot, go along and spar with George, he's eager to test your mettle," Adam said. "Don't be afraid to ask him to hold back, he's a Mighty man. And he's meant to be practising accuracy and timing currently, so you should be a good partner for now. I'll watch a few bouts and give you some advice when I'm done with Francis."

"Thank you, Sir Needle. I'm very grateful for this opportunity to learn," Elliot said with a formal bow that held no conceit.

Adam smiled, then warmly bowed back, then Elliot was off.

The two swordsmen greeted each other reservedly and respectfully, then raised their blades in salute. Soon they were trading blows that tested each other's strength and reactions.

Fritz wanted to watch, but Adam quickly drew his attention.

"We need to talk strategy," he said.

"For the duels?"

"For the duels. You'll need to pick which Abilities and Treasures you'll show to the public," Adam said. "You'll be fighting in the arena so don't give away your secrets if you can help it."

Fritz nodded. "Any advice?"

"Plenty. Though I wanted to hear your thoughts first."

Fritz considered. He had to pretend to be level ten, so that meant he could only choose to reveal four of his Abilities and Passives, two of his Traits and his Path Ability. He swiftly realised that more than a few of his powers were imperceptible. They were Senses of various kinds, an invisible curse or shrouded, strange fairy magics. Really, all he could truly display were Stone Pit, Gloom Strike, Umbral Phase, Illusory Shadow and Hand of Eldritch Flame.

He didn't want to reveal any of them, save the Stone Pit, which seemed the most innocuous.

"Perhaps, I say I have some Senses, Trap and Danger? Then I have my Illusory Shadow, Gloom Strike and Stone Pit? Then I lie about my Traits, something like Deepvision and Hardened Bones?"

Adam furrowed his brow in thought. "Has anyone, apart from your team and family, seen you use any of these Powers?"

Fritz tried to recall any such instances. "Maybe a few thugs..." he hedged, until a memory bubbled to the surface of his mind and he groaned.

"What?"

"Some drizzlers saw Stone Pit's effects, and also assumed I had a dispel due to a mishap with a mana-lantern," he admitted.

Adam sighed and signalled for him to explain. Fritz did, telling a short tale of his attempted robbery of Colette's Tailoring shop and his subsequent capture by Sergeant Louisa and her squad.

"Everywhere you go, difficulties of your own making," Adam groused. "Can't you do anything the proper way? Won't you think things through?"

"I needed clothes," Fritz argued.

"Did you really?" Adam challenged.

"I wanted to see my siblings, couldn't go dressed in rags, and it's how I met Colette, who's been a good friend," Fritz said. Though looking back, he likely could have waited and saved himself much hassle.

Adam just shook his head. "Foolish risks. But the past is the past, there's no changing it. As for your Abilities... Stone Pit should be fine, even if it's stone aligned and is rare in this city, it shouldn't cause too much of a stir. As for your shadow Abilities, I would advise against displaying them."

"They're rare too?"

"They're uncommon, not quite rare. However, it's more about the character of shadow magic wielders. They are judged to be deceitful and dastardly. A sinister sort who can't be trusted. It's the same in most places, even those with Spires aligned to shadow."

"That doesn't really leave me with anything," Fritz said.

"Use your Treasures then," Adam said. "There should be some more suitable Abilities in some of them."

"Won't they notice?"

"Depends on the Treasure, most tend to glow, but if they're hidden well enough, it might not show. However, to those with mana-sight or similar Senses, it will be obvious you're using something other than your own power."

Fritz tapped his foot and grumbled. It seemed to him that he was being stifled at every step.

"It will be difficult, but if you can improve your mastery of The Inevitable Blade, you may have a chance," Adam stated.

"Have a chance? Is it really as grim as that?" Fritz asked.

Adam nodded solemnly. "I won't lie to you. As you are now, restricted and roughshod, you'll be slaughtered. Both the young lords will have Ability, Trait and Path synergies planned out by their parents and the Techniques to go with them. Not to mention the years of tutoring they have over you. If they give you a choice to plead for mercy, take it."

Fritz's hope and confidence fell as he heard these words, he could see worry on his tutor's face, though, there, in his eyes was a trust that he could meet the challenge. Even if it would damage his pride, he would heed the advice of his tutor. What good was pride when survival was on the line anyway? And if he were killed, he had the distinct feeling his siblings would be next in line for humiliation and death.

Fritz nodded. "I'll do that."

They fell into a brooding quiet for some moments before Adam spoke up again. "Anything else?"

"This is a bit...pretty," Fritz said, holding up the bracelet, then jangling it.

"Don't mind that, just be happy I found it," Adam said with a small, sad smile. For a moment, glinting above him were a mass of mirth-filled motes that quickly dissipated.

"Let's start your training," Adam said, making his way to where Mathew stood. Fritz followed.

The lordling was watching George and Elliot's spar with disinterest, though his gaze wasn't too disdainful.

"Lord Tallmast, I have a request, if I may," Adam said.

"A request?" he replied, turning to face the tutor.

"Yes. I wish for you to emulate Lloyd Whiteship's fighting style," he said. "Your father mentioned he was your previous sparring partner before he was selected to climb without you. You should be quite familiar with it, yes?"

"I would say I could replicate his old tactics. Though not his new powers," Mathew said.

"That's good enough for our purposes," Adam said simply.

"And what good does this do for me exactly?" Mathew drawled.

"What do you want?" Adam asked, cutting to the point.

"From you, less practice," Mathew said.

Adam grimaced, but agreed, "Half practice this week."

Mathew nodded, then turned to Fritz, "From you, put in a good word for me with Ms. Nearshore. Perhaps secure me an invitation to dine with her?"

"I'm afraid even a good word from the goddess Alestria wouldn't do you any good, let alone mine," Fritz said. "Lauren prefers more... feminine company."

The Lord tilted his head and pondered for a moment, then the meaning struck him. "Oh. Is that it? I was beginning to think it was something I did to offend her."

"It was nothing of the sort, I'm sure," Fritz assuaged, though he was sure of no such thing.

"To think she has such tastes. How lamentable," Mathew said, shaking his head.

Fritz smiled blandly, though he was glad the man didn't press the issue further.

"Then what do I desire from you?" Mathew asked, talking to himself.

"I also prefer more feminine company," Fritz stated.

The lord's face twisted, and he sputtered, "That's not what I meant."

"My apologies," Fritz said, keeping a smirk off his face and giving a small bow.

"Call it a favour and be done with it," Adam advised.

"Right, fine. You'll owe me one, Hightide," Mathew said.

Fritz nodded and suddenly a thrill hummed between them. Realising he'd just given away an oath of sorts, he almost winced. He chastised himself for being so loose with his promises, especially such open ended ones. Who knew what troubles that could bring.

"Ready when you are, Hightide," Mathew said, swishing his sabre in a flashing flourish. "I, Lloyd Whiteship, will cut you to ribbons!"

He did a fairly uncanny impression of the other Lord, his voice a touch more drawling and pompous than it had been.

Fritz lifted his poorly weighted rapier and they proceeded to spar.

From the first strike and the proceeding parry, Fritz knew he was in trouble.

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