Class Reptilia

Jisu stretched out her knife, pointing it squarely at Ember’s chest. Taking a deep breath, Ember rushed forward, wrapping both of her arms around Jisu’s in order to trap the weapon. The blade poked her stomach, but the natural rubber cover kept it from slicing her skin. She twisted toward the panther’s body, applying pressure until she was forced to drop the knife. 

“Ugh,” Ember cringed, lifting up her shirt to see a reddening wound. “I think I’m beginning to understand. Maybe we can try it a bit faster-” she stopped suddenly, feeling a prickling sensation at her nape. She turned, her worries confirmed when she caught Roland observing their drill. 

“Ember, your form is atrocious,” he commented, his arms folded firmly over his chest. “Why did you use a cross-block when your opponent was holding her weapon at chest level?”

Ember scowled. In a class of twenty-five students, he had managed to find time during both of the first sessions to terrorize her. She could have stomached the advice itself, but his condescending tone pushed it over the edge of unbearably. 

“Come here,” he said, pointing in front of him. Ember obeyed, facing him head-on. “Raise your weapon.”

She pulled the fang knife from its sheath. It, too, had been dulled with the natural rubber coating. She pointed it at Roland, recalling that it wasn’t the first time he had been on the opposite end of her weapon. Memorably, that encounter had left her with one fewer canine tooth.

“Attack me,” he ordered.

“But that’s not what the drill-”

“Attack,” he commanded, this time more forcefully. Ember glanced at Jisu, whose mouth was set in a thin line. She shrugged, indicating that Ember should play along. There would be no help from the other partners and instructors, who were engaged in their own training.

“Fine,” Ember said. If he’s asking me to stab him, I might as well do it right. Without any further ceremony, she sprang forward at full power with the blade aimed at Roland’s neck. 

The strike was lightning-fast, but the hawk was faster. His left arm snapped out, pushing against her chin, and the other wrapped around her wrist. He clenched, hard, making her drop the knife with a grunt of pain. 

She panted, trapped in his vice-like grip. “There,” she panted, “I see now, thank you. You can let go.”

Wordlessly, he stepped inward, unbalancing her with his bottom leg. She tried unsuccessfully to jerk away before he flipped her, ruthlessly, over his hip. 

As Ember’s feet left the ground, a familiar feeling overtook her. In the last three weeks of training with the reptiles, she had been taken down at least a hundred times, enough for muscle memory to form.

Her eyes snapped open, meeting Roland’s contorted expression. She yanked her hands free mid-air, crossing them and gripping his collar in a firm hold. At the same time, her left leg drove into the back of his knee, forcing him to fall on top of her. 

He jerked back, caught off guard, but Ember held him firm. “Listen,” she said ferociously, “you were right. I’m a viper, and we’re natural enemies. You weren’t entirely in control of what happened before, so I’ll let it go. But if you dare to threaten me again, I won’t hold back.” 

Roland snarled, his orange eyes narrowed with fury, and his wings unfurled above their heads. Ember let go, covering her face just as they beat down, generating a torrent of sand particles.

“Hey!” Jisu exclaimed, and Ember felt the panther’s hand wrap around her bicep in order to pull her to her feet. 

The sand settled, revealing Roland in his usual self-assured stance. He ignored Jisu, instead looking down his nose at Ember. “You’re bluffing—you still have no chance against me in a fight. This all could have been avoided if you told me your species from the start.”

“No,” Ember shook her head, her voice rising. “You were the one who wouldn’t let it go. You can’t stand that I took the first rank from you, and now you’re trying to push me out of this class. Sure, you’re stronger than me—for now—but do you think you can avoid my fangs forever? We’re both part human, too, so stop using our species as an excuse to treat me like shit.”

A crack appeared in Roland’s composure. “You-”

“Is everything okay here?” 

Ember, Jisu, and Roland whipped around, noticing Michael, the other assistant instructor. He glanced between them with a half-confused, half-stern expression. “Everything’s fine,” Roland snapped, pushing past him and disappearing between the groups of students. 

“Okay, then,” Michael said, looking at Ember, who offered a shrug. Before he could inquire further, there was a shout from somewhere else in the arena, prompting him to hurry away. 

“That won’t be the last of it,” Ember sighed, crouching down to retrieve the fang knife. 

“You surprised him, at least,” Jisu replied. “He might hesitate to threaten you again.”

“All the more reason to perfect this technique,” Ember said. “Ready to go again?”

***

Ember pulled herself to her knees on the carriage bench, leaning out to watch as they entered the city. A torrent of cold air pulled her hood back, blasting her face. “Woah!” Morgan said, gripping her calf in fear that she’d fall. 

Ember laughed, looking back at the carriage. Next to Morgan was her new partner, Sebastian, a male Linnaean of the mammalian class who was raising an eyebrow in amusement. Across from them sat Naz, Carn, and Charlie, the last of whom had kept one nervous eye on Ember since the moment they boarded. In an attempted distraction, the fox leaned over to point out something of interest, receiving a small smile in return.  

Feeling satisfied, Ember turned her attention back to their surroundings. Mendel had been transformed in preparation for the Solstice Festival. Near the path itself, strings of garland had been woven through the trees and interspersed with berry-stuffed pinecones. Bright yellow flowers broke through the freshly fallen snow, emitting a sweet aroma. Rabbits and white-tailed deer nibbled the decorations, regarding the passersby without care. 

As they drew near, the city proper materialized amongst the trees, a mystical sight beneath the snow and the curtains of vines. The wind swept through the evergreen needles, creating a gentle rustling that was complemented by a chorus of voices. Linnaeans were arriving in all directions, some borne by draft animals and others on foot. Much of their laughter was absorbed by the snow and the canopy, and the rest floated around the trees like fallen leaves along a gentle river. 

When the crowd grew dense enough to block the trail ahead, Ember and her friends disembarked, stopping briefly to rub the horse’s mane in thanks. The group of six held onto each other to keep from being separated. It was Naz’s slim fingers that gripped Ember’s, tugging her gently through the crush.  

Ember took a deep breath as they emerged from the sea of movement and noise. Naz had led them to the center of Mendel’s Main Street. Throughout the network of branches, vendors had erected temporary stalls, calling out in singsong voices as they offered up freshly picked persimmons and golden twine. Music floated up from every corner, springing from wooden flutes and stringed lutes. 

Unlike the tournaments, where the atmosphere was charged with anticipation, the Linnaeans wandered through the city with a blissful air. They were everywhere that Ember’s eyes alighted: walking along the highest branches, holding hands on the trail, or dining at tucked-away establishments. Many had dressed for the occasion in flowy clothing hand-embroidered with scenes of flora and fauna. A few were accompanied by companion animals, who peeked out from a scarf or bag where they had taken refuge from the cold. 

Children dashed around strangers’ legs, clutching steaming bread, while the elderly walked with the assistance of their patient loved ones. For the first time, Ember spotted several Mendelians who appeared to be fully human, a sight that stirred up thoughts of her father. 

“This way,” Naz said, knowing the city best out of the group. They followed her between the trees, traversing a path that wound through the towering roots. Tucked inside a colossal redwood was a small eatery surrounded by a halo of smoke.

“Six hot chocolates,” Naz said, pushing a bronze disk across the counter. She was immediately inundated by requests to chip in, but she shook her head with a laugh. “My treat.”

The shopkeeper raised a kettle from the stove, pouring the steaming milk into five papery cups. Ember took hers gratefully, watching as a clump of chocolate was dissolved into a creamy mixture. She could feel the heat even through her thick gloves. Despite being plant-based, the drink went down easily, warming her chest and stomach. 

The friends huddled together, making light conversation as they enjoyed the sweet taste. Ember was glad to see them relaxed and smiling, having left the stress of exams far behind. Carn seemed especially joyful, with one arm thrown over Charlie’s shoulders. Naz’s gift had inspired an air of generosity, and they all hinted at finding each other small presents. 

“Seb and I are going to find a cloakmaker,” Morgan announced as she finished her drink. “I have no clothes for this weather. How about we meet back here before nightfall?”

“Sounds good,” Carn said. “I think Charlie and I will go off on our own too. See you all soon?”

“Sure thing,” Naz agreed, and she and Ember waved goodbye as the others disappeared into the crowd. She turned to Ember, her face glowing with contentment. “Where shall we go first?”