Veylan gave me a drawing because I couldn't be trusted with a sword that morning. That wasn't how he described it. He called it supervised safety work suitable for the recovery limit. The paper was still much less satisfying to hold.
"Compare the marked approach with the current passage," he said. "Stay with the group. Don't operate anything you haven't been told to touch."
"Should I write those instructions down too?"
"If it improves your chance of following them."
I took a pencil.
The foundation entrance smelled of damp stone and the oil used on the gate hinges. We had stopped outside the training route, in a broad area where the floor markings separated waiting groups from the people carrying equipment through.
A duty instructor counted us. Another checked the entrance board before opening the barrier. I had no blade, no release work, and no reason to step beyond the approved demonstration area. For once, my body and the rules wanted the same thing.
