<span style="color: #BF4060">Mary Elizabeth Strauss was training. <br/>Or, to be more precise, Mary was being pummelled by Arnott, her cat companion. It was the standard form of training regime for the short girl.<br/>She stood crouched in the fighting stance, having just staggered back from the large panther's strike. In her hands were two weapons, like brass knuckles, but with three thick, pointed blades that protruded for the splits between the fingers. For the purposes of training they were capped, so that blood wouldn't be drawn.<br/>"Relax your knees! Don't be so stiff!" Arnott barked, tail swishing in frustration. Mary let out an annoyed huff, blowing a strand of loose hair that had someone escaped its ponytail prison away from her face. She waited patiently to strike, faking out several times to keep the bothersome teacher on edge. <br/>One of the rare times she didn't wear her sweater was during training. Instead, she wore leather armour, light and efficient for fast movements. The panels of the skirt swished together as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. She wouldn't screw up this time. Last time she had been too slow, and she knew it; choreographed her movements to the enemy. She would love to smack the rude feline down, just once.<br/>She leapt up abruptly, using her abilities of darkness, and thus of deception, to hide her movements for the fraction of a second that she needed. She had to win.<br/>This was the little determined spark that rested in Mary, usually followed by success. She didn't want to be weak or left behind.<br/>Letting out a ferocious yell, her fist connected with its target, which was Arnott's head, bringing the creature tumbling to the ground. Mary ultimately preferred using her fists to the blades. She considered it an awkward weapon, but it was standard issue for all dark elementals, and she even had to admit to herself that she likely couldn't wield a sword, and didn't have the steadiness for bow and arrow.<br/><span style="font-style: italic">In one hit?</span> Mary thought in surprise, panting from effort. She cautiously edged towards the panther, who was still crumpled on the ground. "I did i-!" Her jump of victory was stopped by a sudden movement. Arnott had swiped at her leg with his paw, sending Mary crumpling to the ground. In this one fluid motion, the short girl was on the ground, with a 150 pound creature holding her down.<br/>"When the enemy is down," he hissed, "do not lower your guard. Get them down, and <span style="font-style: italic">keep</span> them down." He put pressure on her limbs before releasing, allowing her to roll from under him with a burning face. <br/>She felt cowed. A simple trick that she had learned, and been taught to avoid, was the one that had brought her down. She wasn't cut out for this job. She had no particularly useful skills, and was a mediocre fighter at best. But she refused to cry. Wiping the dirt from her knees, she stood up, glaring at her companion.<br/>"Can't you at least compliment me, just once?" she asked, feeling like the last straw between the pair was likely to break any time soon.<br/>"For falling into my trap?" Arnott shrugged, morphing back into his house cat form, "not likely." <br/>Mary huffed, stripping off the claws in disappointment. It was incredibly frustrating. Even with her heightened physical abilities, she couldn't hold up.<br/>Arnott paused, padding up to her carefully and weaving between her legs, "you did loosen up, though," he said grudgingly, a faint trace of worry etched in his voice. <br/>Mary looked down at him, wiping her teary eye with a faint smile. "Thanks." The little comment cheered her up immensely, though she wouldn't show Arnott that. In reality, she appreciated his toughness. If he were softer, as many people's cats were, she likely would have quit by now, with nothing to make her feel challenged, and feed off of her need to prove people wrong.<br/>"Mary Elizabeth," Arnott said abruptly. Mary turned just as she pulled her hair out of her ponytail, causing the pale purple tresses to swing in the air. Arnott liked to play the little game of using both her first and middle name, something the girl didn't appreciate. She had given up telling him not to within the first year of their partnership. "What?"<br/>"Look." Arnott tilted his head over to the glowing object that was heading towards them. <span style="font-style: italic">Made of light, how appropriate,</span> the girl mused. If it were made of darkness people would have feared it, thinking it was a trap or something devious. But this thing soothed the soul, made of swirling colours of joy. It frustrated her.<br/>Extending her hand to touch it, Mary jumped as it began to speak. <br/><br/>"<span style="font-style: italic">Your presence is required immediately in the Headmistress's office. There are no exceptions, and anyone that does not appear in the next ten minutes will be given to the Cattery Keepers for the next week to clean the Battle Cats' stalls. This will run alongside your lessons and other duties.<br/><br/>Sincerely, Headmistress Ray.</span>"<br/><br/><br/><br/>"Ten minutes?!" Mary exclaimed frantically, attempting to take off her bracers, "I need to take a shower or something fir-!"<br/>"You're not ready," Arnott interjected, mostly to himself.<br/>"Ready for what?" Mary asked, successfully pulling off the arm protector.<br/>"If you were listening," Arnott said impatiently, "you would have noticed that she was referring to several people in the message. You're being put into a team." <br/>Mary blinked before putting her hands on her hips in a defiant stance. "You think I'm not ready?" she asked in annoyance, "I've been training for nearly," she counted quickly on her fingers, "four years! I think I can handle finally doing my job."<br/>"I just don't want you to get hurt," Arnott said in a dismissive manner, turning gracefully towards the building where the headmistress's office was located, leaving Mary behind in dumbfound shock.<br/>After taking a second to recollect herself, Mary rushed after her cat, chattering incessantly. <br/>"What do you mean 'you don't want me to get hurt'? You just pummelled me into the ground, jerk! Is it possible that you actually care?" She went on this tangent all through their way to the building, causing Arnott to glaze his eyes over and ignore her completely. Mary was still wearing her leather breastplate and training pants, but didn't feel like she had the time to change.<br/>Mary was too busy looking at Arnott that she didn't pay attention to where she was going, and crashed head-on with someone, not causing her to fall, but enough to make her stagger back, holding her head and trying not to swear under her breath.<br/>"I'm sorr-" she began, looking up in embarrassment, but trailing off as she saw the person's face. It was a man with spectacular facial hair. <span style="font-style: italic">Is he a teacher?</span> She bowed slightly and repeated her apology again before walking away stiffly and slumping against the wall, wrapping her arms around her legs.<br/>"Watch where you're going," Arnott frowned, turning to the boy, "I have to apologize on her behalf, she's somewhat of an idiot."<br/>The comment successfully ruffled Mary's feathers. She glared up at Arnott, letting out a little huff.<br/>several people were piping up questions about why they could have been gathered. "The headmistress will tell us soon enough," she said, small smile on her face. Patience was a virtue she had acquired at a young age. She looked down the hallway, still slightly out of breath from her training. She was feeling a little drowsy.<br/>Her head darted up as another student came rushing down the hallway. He had dark brown hair, and was panting heavily. He glanced around at the group, regaining his composure. He locked eyes with Mary for a moment. Her own eyes widened. His eyes seemed so distressed, like he had suffered a lot. It made her feel uncomfortable, and she cast her gaze to the ground. <span style="font-style: italic">What a strange bunch,</span> she thought, <span style="font-style: italic">me included.</span> She rolled her head along the wall to gaze at the headmistress's door. <span style="font-style: italic">who knows what's ahead.</span></span><br/><br/><br/><br/>--<br/><br/><br/><br/><span style="color: #008080">Edain gazed at the falchion in his hands in a bored fashion, passing it lightly between open hands. The black blade glinted in the faint light of his bedroom. He sat on his bed, considering practising his sword forms. They worked best in an open area, with Ella by his side, but the cat was sleeping, tucked in the jumble of blankets at the foot of his bed. Edain glanced back at her, a small smile on his face. He wouldn't wake her. She was too serene, her body rising and falling with every breath. He would practice his forms alone. <br/>As he was turned to face her, the blade in his hands slipped, gouging a wound in his palm and causing him to jump up from his seat and let out a sharp yelp. Desperate not to make noise and wake his companion, Edain made his way to the bathroom, just across the hall from his room. Leaning over the sink, he turned the tap with his uninjured hand and ran the wound under warm water. The blood turned otherwise pristine water pink as it swirled down into the drain. He flicked the droplets of water away from his fingertips. Perhaps if he had been affiliated with the element of water, he could cleanse the wound better, but he was one of the less nurturing elements, useful for crushing things. However, earth did sustain and house life, a supporter of nearly all other elements. With these musings in mind, Edain wrapped some toilet paper around the wound gingerly, trying not to curse loudly from the stinging pain that was now building in his palm. The shock of the moment was lost, and pain replaced it. Blood quickly soaked through the thin gauze, causing Edain to frown in frustration. Injuring himself was a stupid move that hadn't happened in a while, and this one appeared to be quite deep. It was possible that he might need stitches, if he didn't find the sufficient medical equipment. Something to stop the wound from bleeding... Edain had a sudden idea, and walked quickly back to his bedroom, clutching his bleeding hand in the other. <br/>Once in his bedroom, Edain headed to the single east-facing window. In the mornings, the sun would greet him earlier than most, displaying its golden radiance over the forest. It was quite beautiful, when Edain was coherent enough to consider something so trivial early in the morning. But for now, the sun was beginning to hide behind the mountains, the moon casting a dull glow on the grounds. Looking around, Edain spotted several shadowy shapes, trading blows and dodging in an intense, fast-paced manner. Likely those of the dark element, up to train when their affinity was beginning to be prominent.<br/>The pain in his hand reminded Edain of his task; casting his gaze to the garden below, he drew his good hand and focused. Separating a certain material from other elements that made up the earth was more difficult according to how much of it was present. Thankfully, the ground in the flowerbed was springy, full of clay. He pulled these parts out, bringing it up to fill the wound. It would keep it from getting infected, and prevent him from bleeding further all over his room. A simple solution. So earth could, in fact, heal.<br/>Turning back to face the room, Edain spotted his falchion, still discarded on the floor. Its edge glinted in the moonlight, illuminating the crimson blood stain that he had yet to clean. Bending down with little effort from his legs, Edain picked up the weapon, and with a discarded shirt on the ground, he cleaned the blade until it shone. He threw the shirt across the room, in the vague direction of his laundry hamper. He was not a tidy person.<br/>He glanced over the blade, this time careful to keep a firm grip on the curved wood handle. There were a few chips on the edge, to his disappointment. He would fix that later, but not tonight. <br/>Ella shifted, causing Edain to go into high alert, instinctively hiding the wound from the feline's view. <br/>"Was I sleeping?" She asked in a tired voice, stretching out her front legs in the standard cat fashion. She was in her housecat form, which was a rare sight to see, as she ultimately preferred her iriomote wildcat form. <br/>"I didn't mean to wake you," Edain apologized, watching as she jumped lightly off the bed and glanced around the room. it was as per usual, a little messy and sparsely furnished. The highest populated object in the room was the book, a entire three shelves dedicated to them. Many of them appeared dusty, like they hadn't been read for a long time. <br/>"It's okay, Edain, I wasn't even supposed to be asleep," she commented, sitting with a small sigh, as if she had just remembered something. "I was supposed to practice forms with you this evening, wasn't I?" The creature hated to be late or otherwise let people down.<br/>"It's fine, it's fine," Edain assured her, reaching down to pat her on the head. Without thinking he used his injured hand, which Ella picked up on right away. She twisted, gold eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Show me your hand," she said, ears flattening slightly. She appeared dangerous, bearing the face of someone who couldn't be lied to.<br/>"It's nothing," Edain said hastily, clasping his hands behind his back in an attempt to appear casual.<br/>Ella gritted her teeth in frustration at her less-than compliant companion. "Show me your hand, <span style="font-style: italic">now.</span>"<br/>Edain frowned, annoyed at his companion's persistence. Sometimes she could be overbearingly protective, crooning over him every time he got injured. She had the right to worry, but the boy could handle himself. However, he still withdrew his injured hand and presented it to her. <br/>She examined the wound with an annoyed eye, as if this task inconvenienced her more than it did. She wasn't a lazy cat, but if there was an alternate task that required less effort, she would take it. Her eating habits were the complete opposite; the larger the meal, the more likely she would indulge wholeheartedly in it.<br/>There was a brief silence during the inspection before Ella finally drew up. "Good job," she commented, "is it all clay?"<br/>Edain nodded, "for the most part, yes." It was one of his more honed skills, the finesse of selecting different materials from the ground. <br/>Ella sniffed in annoyance, tail primly in the air. "You're still an idiot."<br/>"Sorry." Edain stood up and walked over to the bed, sitting down with his back placed against the wall. He suddenly felt tired; the effects of a less than kind training regime, of the mind and body. Use of the elements often drained the user. Energy used meant energy lost.<br/>Like a silent communication, Ella crawled on to the boy's lap, curled into the familiar shape that felines are capable of. Edain put his hand on her gently, stroking down to her back. She let out a pleased sigh.<br/>"Hmm," he muttered, before falling into a dreamless sleep.<br/><br/><br/><br/>Edain awoke to find a glowing ball slamming itself into his head. He let out a shout, throwing himself in away from the ball, pressing against the wall, "What the hell!?" <br/>"It's a message," Ella explained, yawning, "it came shortly after you dozed off. It's been waiting patiently but apparently gets violent when its message is not received."<br/>"Why didn't you tell me that?" Edain shouted, one head cradling the goose egg forming on his head, the other reaching out to touch the ball. It glowed for a moment before emitting a message:<br/><br/>"<span style="font-style: italic">Your presence is required immediately in the Headmistress's office. There are no exceptions, and anyone that does not appear in the next ten minutes will be given to the Cattery Keepers for the next week to clean the Battle Cats' stalls. This will run alongside your lessons and other duties.<br/><br/>Sincerely, Headmistress Ray.</span>"<br/><br/>"That was..." Edain glanced over to the clock on his dresser, "two minutes ago! We have to move, now!"<br/>Ella slid off the bed in amusement, only keeping at a trot behind the frantically rushing Edain. "I believe the warning is more for you than for me." <br/>Edain raced down the maze of halls before finally reaching the headmistress's office, Ella padding lightly behind him with an amused grin on her face. <br/>"I'm... here..." he panted, resting his hands on his knees in a semi-fetal position. He glanced up, noting six people. This must be part of the team he was to be paired with. He glanced over them curiously, guessing their element and their personality.<br/>A tall, muscular-looking teen, with dark purple, almost black hair. Dark, evidently. Edain couldn't help but feel a little intimidated. He wasn't very strong, but he could be fast.<br/>A short looking girl, also of the dark element, judging from the light purple hair framing her face. She wore leather armour and seemed a bit dishevelled. She didn't seem like the usual dark type, easily compared to the tattoo-covered guy. As he glanced at her she caught his gaze and immediately looked down at the floor. <span style="font-style: italic">Shy? We'll have to cure that for the better of the group,</span> he thought, looking away politely for now and examining another member of the current party.<br/>Edain sensed right away they were of the same element. A strange connection always seemed to happen when he encountered someone of his affiliation, or of the opposite element. She had a somewhat wide nose, and startling green eyes. <span style="font-style: italic">So it begins...</span> He thought moodily, leaning against the wall with a huff. He would finish his examination of the other people later. For now he just hoped he wasn't late enough to garner a punishment.</span>