The Stream Quarter Training Center was not very far away from the cafeteria by ground.  The blistering winds however dictated that the young Crisho stay inside as much as possible.  Instead, she chose to traverse the buildings using the tunnels and bridges between them.  These paths were only meant for connecting two or three buildings for ease of class access.

The trip ended up taking much longer but was worth it.  Being a creature only a few centimeters high, she would freeze without proper precautions.  Metcalf walked the halls with her game face.  She had no need for war paint.  Her face was naturally split down the middle with red and white.  A slight tint of the adolescent’s green still covered most of her skin but that would fade.

Up two floors and a bridge, left turn and a hallway, right turn, down the long ramp, down three floors and a tunnel, up a floor, halfway through the hall and an elevator, she had traveled this path for many winters.  She had no reason to question where she was or where she was going.

Usually, the center was a place of genuine training.  Students would use this facility to hone skills; to practice and eventually eliminate faults others had discovered in their fighting styles.  Not today.

When she reached the three double-door entry to the training center she knew what Koh was talking about.  The roar of activity was unmistakable.  The training center was large enough to house sporting events from professional teams.  However at this time of year, it seemed more packed than ever.  When she entered the training center, she saw students everywhere in their various, armor styles and colors.  Many were either competing fiercely in drills or waiting in line to challenge other students.  Full of hope or simply naive, they all looked for their chance to get more Academy Points.

There were even more students standing at the walls or sitting in the bleachers, some studying their handhelds.  The holographic image of the school rankings and the red zone was all too familiar.  Some looked at the image happily and relieved.  Others were very worried.  No one wanted to take the Final Exam, but in the end everyone knew that some of them had to face expulsion.  They had less than a week left to adjust their fate.

Quite a few of the students seemed to be from other Quarters of the Academy.  She did not recognize them.  Perhaps they were embarrassed and did not want to be seen gambling points.  Either that or this was the place with the most action.

She looked at the battling pairs of students for a while, picking her targets.  She cared little about how good they were; she was better.  The ideal target had little to do with whether they won or lost.  It was all about how they won or lost.  Selfishness was self-defeating and she watched the students for signs.

Proud winners and sore losers always made the best targets.  They took the outcome personally and often wanted a rematch.  The proud thought they were unstoppable and wanted to go again even when it was unnecessary.  Losers often thought too much about the outcome.  Vowing not to make the same mistake again, they would make a different mistake and dig themselves even deeper into a hole.  Too late, they realized they could not escape The Red.

She saw Naoh in her plain looking white armor with aqua highlights.  She was competing in a three strike drill with her dual short strait swords.  She moved effortlessly, countering all of her opponent’s attacks with parries, strikes, and stabs.  She hit him much more than three times; the second to score three hits ends the match as the loser.  The penalty was determined by how many more hits the winner landed.

Even with his face covered Metcalf could tell that he was getting frustrated.  Apparently, he did not expect a girl to have such powerful strikes.  It seemed that he could not land a single strike with his dual canes.  To lose a test of strength against a petite lady with everyone watching had to be embarrassing.  Not to mention the amount of points he was losing.

Just then Metcalf felt a tap on her shoulder.  She turned to find a female student in armor with a crossbow.  She seemed to be older with a look of a predator.

“Hey kid,” she said as an introduction, “You wanna do a target drill?”  It seemed as though she already knew the answer before she asked the question.

“Why sure.”

#1 – Lost and Found #2 – Lost and Found #4