"So," Beck says, not bothering to finish chewing. "I hear the classes in the western wing are particularly dangerous. All about strengthening our tethers and learning to fight side by side with an elemental."

Ambrose nods. "Heard the same."

"I'm just happy they aren't going to let us openly kill each other anymore," Mireen says.

"Yeah that's all well and good, but did you hear Rector Voss? New uniforms," Beck says. "I can't wait. Maybe the aspirant ones won't chafe so much."

"I think that's a personal problem," Ambrose says. "Mine are perfectly comfortable."

Beck claps Ambrose on the back. "That's because you're not muscular enough, yet, brother. How are you so sleight with what they feed us and all the training they put us through, anyway? Is your brain stealing all the nutrition, maybe?"

Ambrose cuts him a look. "I was very thin when I came here. This is actually the largest I've ever been."

Beck nods. "What did you do before this, anyway? It certainly wasn't any kind of manual labor."

"My parents owned a book shop. I was hoping to become an author. Historical studies. Things like that."

Until today, none of us have ever talked much about our lives before Confluence. I can't say why, exactly, except to guess that it's too painful to dwell on what was. Maybe we all decided it's easier to pretend our past lives are like the dead—they're behind us, and talking about or thinking of them will only cause more suffering.

There's a slight pause as everyone else must be having similar thoughts.

Beck speaks, all the humor and bravado gone from his voice. His eyes are distant, but a faint smile touches his lips as he talks. "I was a farmer. We grew all sorts of things. Had the best corn you've ever tasted, too. It had this sweetness you couldn't match anywhere south of the divide."

Mireen chews her lip. "I helped with the wounded. We were so close to the fighting with Red Kingdom that pretty much every girl in my town either helped with the injured from the front lines or worked on supplies—clothing, food, weapons, and things like that. I spent most of my life seeing the kind of damage primals do to people. Especially fires," she adds with a look in my direction.

Is she trying to warn me about Raith?

But my thought cuts short when I realize they're all watching me now—waiting for me to share about my past.