The afternoon of Duelsday was spent in correcting the forms of thirteen people learning to wield the battle-staff.
"Breathe!" He reminded them, walking between their lined up ranks. "Do not hold it in, do not force it. Remember the guiding forms and breathe naturally with each movement."
"Ha!" came the concerted shout from thirteen throats, finishing the routine.
He stepped in front and smiled briefly. "Good. Rest a quarter-hour."
There was a relieved sigh from multiple mouths. Vesen groaned, planted his battle-staff on the ground and leaned wearily against it.
Defi smirked at the seventeen year old. "Regretting it?"
"Very much."
"Want to quit?"
"I dream about it every night."
Defi laughed lightly, studied the younger man. "You don't seem to be as enthused about the military as the others. I thought you only wanted to join because Boone is going. Yet you're persevering so hard?"