My Grim Reaper Class: I can kill anything.

“Lady Marell didn’t explain that to me.”

“Lady Marell knows, but she probably didn’t tell you because House Vaelith benefits from you not knowing over the coming years. If you arrive at the Tribunal without technical preparation, the administration passes to them. If you arrive prepared, it doesn’t.”

“And you’re telling me now why?”

“Because I’m not Vaelith. And because if you don’t know what’s at stake, you can’t decide with what level of commitment you want to train. I don’t accept students who train on a whim. I accept students who train out of recognized necessity.”

Liaraen looked at him for a long moment before responding.

“It’s a recognized necessity. If you accept me as a student, my commitment is five sessions weekly over the next ten months, with the intensity you consider appropriate for my level and my progressive recovery. If for guardianship reasons I have to travel during any week, I’ll notify you three days in advance and make up the lost sessions upon return. If you consider my progress insufficient at any point, you tell me directly and I accept the consequences.”

“The guardianship?”

“Nathan Voss is my informal guardian recognized by House Vaelith until my elven major transition. For the next ten months I have residence in Greywall under his guardianship. After the transition, I decide my own path.”

Thalenor looked at Nathan. For nearly a minute he didn’t speak. Nathan kept his gaze on the table, without returning the look, respecting the silence protocol.

Then Thalenor turned back to Liaraen.

“Hunter Voss knows his presence here during these sessions isn’t necessary.”

“He knows.”

“Is he going to insist on accompanying you?”

“No. Today he accompanies me because it’s the first visit and because elven guardianship protocols justify it. From the second session onward, I come alone.”

“Alright. Third question. And this is the one that defines whether I accept you or not.”

“Go ahead.”

Thalenor leaned slightly forward over the table.

“Over the next ten months, if I teach you, I’m going to teach you classic Sael’thoryn technique. The technique your father learned, the one your grandfather learned, the one that has gone eleven generations without interruption. But I’m not Sael’thoryn. I’m Vireth. I learned the Sael’thoryn technique three hundred years ago because a close friend of mine from House Sael’thoryn lost his entire branch in a succession conflict and asked me to guard the method until an heir capable of receiving it appeared. I’ve waited three hundred years. During those three hundred years, three potential heirs of the Sael’thoryn line appeared that I rejected.”

Liaraen looked at him.

“Why did you reject them?”

“The first came because his family sent him, not because he wanted to. Rejected. The second came because he thought to use the technique for ceremonial challenges during elven festivals, which trivializes the method. Rejected. The third came with the attitude that I was obligated to teach him for having guarded the technique, which confuses custody with debt. Rejected.”

“And me?”

“You came because your house is practically erased, because your father’s sword chose you, because you understood during the last few minutes that the elven Tribunal is a real risk, and because you just offered me a specific commitment without haggling. That’s more than enough not to reject you for the reasons of the three previous ones. But I need something more before I accept you.”

“What?”

“I need you to answer a question you probably haven’t thought about yet. If I accept you as a student and over these ten months you demonstrate real capability to carry the complete Sael’thoryn technique, at the end of the tenth month I’m going to expect you to decide whether you’re going to transmit the technique to the following generations of the house, or whether you’re going to let it die with you. It’s not a decision you can postpone indefinitely. If you decide to transmit, you accept an obligation of centuries. If you decide not to transmit, you confirm that the Sael’thoryn line ends with you as an active bearer, even if the house continues to exist administratively. Both decisions are valid, but both carry weight. Can you consider them over the next ten months?”

Liaraen looked at him in silence for nearly two minutes.

Then she responded, and her voice had dropped a tone.

“I can consider them. I can’t promise you an answer today. But I can promise you that at the end of the tenth month I’m going to have a grounded decision, not an evasive one.”

“That’s what I need.”

Thalenor leaned back against the chair’s backrest. For a few seconds he looked through the window at the rear courtyard where the training post stood. Then he turned his head back.

“Accepted as a student. We begin the day after tomorrow. Time: second dawn, which for humans is approximately two hours after sunrise. Duration of each session: two initial hours, increasing to four hours as your endurance improves. Clothing: whatever you can get dirty and tear without worrying, not the ceremonial one you’re wearing today. Bring the sword. We’re not going to use it during the first two weeks, but the enchantment needs to get used to my presence before I start correcting your posture. Payment: I don’t charge fees. The custody I accepted three hundred years ago includes the teaching. If you want to compensate me in some way, you can bring rare medicinal plants you have access to obtain, or you can help me occasionally with garden maintenance. Nothing obligatory.”

Liaraen inclined her head once.

“All conditions accepted. Thank you, Master Vireth.”

“Don’t thank me yet. Over the next ten months you’re probably going to wish you hadn’t accepted. Thank me at the end if you still can.”

Liaraen smiled for the first time during the visit. It was a brief, controlled smile, but genuine.

Thalenor smiled too, barely visible, before turning to Nathan.

“Hunter.”

Nathan looked up.

“The formal evaluation is over. You can speak.”

Nathan nodded once.

“Master Vireth. I appreciate being allowed to be present. And I appreciate the clarity about the elven Tribunal. It’s information Liaraen and I needed without knowing we needed it.”

“The information is part of accepting her as a student. If you didn’t know what’s at stake, you could make guardianship decisions that put her at risk without meaning to. I prefer that both of you handle the same information over the next ten months.”

“Understood.”

Thalenor stood up. Liaraen and Nathan too.

“I’ll walk you to the door.”

They walked to the exit. Before opening the door, Thalenor stopped. He looked at Nathan.

“Hunter Voss.”

“Yes?”

“An observation.”

“Go ahead.”

“Your Soul Sense has been working passively since you entered. I noticed during the evaluation. You didn’t shut it off because you probably don’t know how to shut it off completely, or because you evaluated that shutting it off would offend me more than keeping it active. It’s a correct calculation. But next time you enter the house of a retired or inactive bearer, consider that some of us prefer not to be read during the first visit. Not out of hostility. Out of habit.”

“Understood. Next time I’ll ask first.”

“Ask and respect the answer. Not everyone is going to tell you yes. And those who tell you no probably have reasons they won’t explain to you.”

“Alright.”

Thalenor opened the door.

Liaraen and Nathan stepped out into the front courtyard. Thalenor accompanied them to the fence. Before closing the fence behind them, he said one last thing.

“Liaraen.”

“Yes?”

“Day after tomorrow. Second dawn. Don’t be late.”

“I won’t be late.”

“Alright.”

Thalenor closed the fence and returned to the house.