A few minutes later, Training yard
~Cassius’ Perspective~
I sit down at the bench, wiping sweat off my brow.
“Damn,” I tell Castor. “That was hard.”
He grins back.
“Well,” he replies. “I was always the weapons specialist.”
I grin.
I look over at Avery. He’s sparring with Daniel. Great. We need the practice.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see a kid storming over to a nearby training area. He approaches the dummy and begins to slash at it with anger and rage.
“Hey, Castor,” says Avery. “Is that-?”
“William,” he interrupts. “Yeah. It is. Where’s Pax though?”
I perk up in interest. I remember Alex mentioning those two when they were telling us what happened at the Cumulus Islands.
“So that’s him,” I say. I vaguely recall Castor talking about sparring with him.
Castor looks between me and him nervously.
“Cass. No.”
“I didn’t even say anything.”
“I know that look. You’re going to ask him to spar with you. You’ll win. And then you’ll tell him what he needs to improve on. I already did that. And also, you’ll run him ragged.”
I sigh.
“Alright. You got me. But if you insist, I won’t.”
~William’s Perspective~
I swing at the dummy, each swing powerful and dangerous.
“Damn,” says someone behind me. “Someone had a bad day.”
I spin around. Castor stands there, a grin on his face. I relax slightly, but keep my guard up. Who knows what he’s here for.
“Hey,” I reply. “What are you doing here?”
“I can’t tell you that, history or not,” he responds. “Besides, you probably have your own reasons as well.”
“You got me there.”
“Great. Now, can you stop pointing your sword at me?”
I look at myself and realize my arm is outstretched. I lower it.
“Sorry,” I apologize sheepishly.
He laughs.
“Don’t be. Happens to the best of us when we’re caught by surprise. Where’s Pax?”
I sigh.
“I dunno. Still talking to Theos I guess.”
“Theos, huh? What did you two do to get the War Phoenix’s attention?”
“Y’know what? Ask Pax. He’s the one with the personal history and all that.”
Castor grins.
“Yeah, maybe I will.”
“YAHHH!”
A man flies backward onto the ground. He groans slightly.
“Well shit,” Castor remarks dryly. “Not this again. At least it wasn’t on the ship.”
“You okay Daniel?” asks someone loudly.
I look up to see a 25 year old man looking at the injured person with a look of concern. His messy black hair hangs over brown eyes filled with concern. It’s a face that I’ve seen on posters back home. The face of a man with a bounty of 25 million lamina.
Cassius Kestos.
Captain of the Rebel 25.
End of Chapter XIV