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[color=69D7CC]“Doesn’t seem fair. They get to have fun and showcase their skills while we sit and wait our turn.”[/color]

[right][color=D0D4E5]”Ehem—you're right, it's not fair, is it? It's...Cruel. It's cruel to them, don't you—”[/color][/right]

Nathaniel’s eyes were locked on the various arenas, sizing up the competitors. At first blush, most of the competitors sent out into the field for this starting round looked like they were just picking up a training weapon for the first time. He commended them for coming here to try at all, but it was far too late. Because among the inexperienced, Nate’s eyes locked on to the rare few. Those with fire in their blood. Those who shifted the weight of their practice weapons in their hands, settling into a few trained stances. He recognized a couple, fellow students of note from the largest sword schools abroad. Some faces were unfamiliar, though.

Nate had absent-mindedly paced his way to the two strangers, not even giving them much of a look. His eyes were focused on what was to come though he still registered the words of the conversation nearby. [color=fc2129]”It seems more calculated than cruel. They’re testing one’s will as much as their skill. They want to see who can persevere, and who among the commoners has put in the work.”[/color]

That had to be it, right? There had to be a reason. So… Nate looked for one.

Nate pointed to an average looking commoner, maybe fourteen years old and scrawny. His clothes were rugged and frayed at the edges. He was very slowly trying to swing an arming blade with his two hands bunched up together to hold it. His swings were horizontal, wild, and uncontrolled. Nate pointed to the kid. [color=fc2129]”Take him, for example. Poor kid hasn’t had a day of training in his life. I think it would be more merciful to have him face someone potentially untrained rather than the well-trained son of a Duke for his first ever duel, don’t you think?”[/color]

Nate’s eyes drifted to a rather familiar figure, one of the larger boys. He sported a short blonde buzz cut with a fresh tunic and doublet, both lacking sleeves. He was swinging a longsword with both hands through the air quickly, cycling through a routine of trained cuts and blocks. Nate lifted an arm to point to the teen. [color=fc2129]”Take him, for example. Cyrus Locke. He lives here in the capitol. His father is a noted locksmith for the elite, who spent most of his coin getting his son into the best sword school he could. Cyrus is as stubborn as an ox, and built like one. He’s reckless and brash… likely to get countered by any noble with a private tutor. So, he’s more likely to show off his promise against someone untrained.”[/color]

Nathaniel’s eyes shifted slightly, until they fell upon Dot’s short figure. He didn’t seem particularly impressive at first brush, but Nate clocked the way he casually rested the wooden sword on his shoulder. The sword was nearly as tall as he was, but there was a familiarity with the size of it. He simply pointed towards him. [color=fc2129]”And some who deserve to be a cadet are unassuming. The one with light gray hair right there… he’s wielding a sword that’s almost as big as him as if it were nothing. Impressive, but it’s an impractical choice. They might be seeing if he loses steam in these early rounds.”[/color]

Nate never really turned his gaze to the other two nobles. His eyes were too busy darting between the commoners as they got to their places. He had too much data to analyze to waste time on pleasantries.