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3 Ash 121Starfall, Astralar Mountains
That day, when Torin awoke, there was breakfast laid out as usual. What was unusual was the lack of any other person. There was enough for him, and only the things he had tended to eat and drink. The servants paid attention. One paid specific attention to him, coming into the informal dining room to let him know where his hosts were.
"There's nothing scheduled for you until this afternoon, Master Kilvin," he said. "You've the run of the house, of course, and if there's anything in town you want to see, someone can show you. The twins are sparring with their brother, though." He flashed an amused smile. "If you'd like to watch that, they're down the hall and to the left." He indicated which door to which hall. "Just follow the sounds of grunting, cursing, and steel on steel. They won't mind an audience, though Kaus might show off a bit."
The servants were respectful, but not obsequious. Any Torin had spoken to gave him what help and guidance he needed, but didn't fawn on him or try to wipe his arse for him either. They all seemed healthy and content, not slaving away nor mistreated.
Down the hall and to the left, there was a training room. The floors were tatami mats and weapons and armor lined the walls and various racks and stands. But the doors to the balcony were open, and out there, the siblings were having a bit of a battle royale. Aquilios wielded a greatsword; Kaus a smaller longsword. The men seemed about evenly matched. There seemed to be no magic at play, and that put Kala at a disadvantage. She was no slouch with her curved knives, but the men had wings, as well.
They were up and down, sometimes using their wings merely to buffet the others with gusts of air or the wings themselves. But Kala danced among her larger siblings without fear, and it was clear they weren't cutting her slack. If the men had to match each other, they also had to watch their backs for their sister, who would have no compunction making use of a distraction to get inside their longer reach. It was like a dance, but there was something refined about the way Kala moved. She had the elegance of a dancer, the economy of movement learned from hoarding her resources against the deeper pools from which her brothers could draw.