Kyle Parker

A month after enrollment, at the training yard of the Ferdinand Knight Academy, just as the sun is rising. There's still an hour before morning roll call, and a thin layer of overnight dew covers the sand of the yard. Having had your name called out by the instructor once again yesterday, you've come out early to fix your form. But someone is already standing beside the target post. Kyle Parker, a squire from your class. Ever since he tied with you for first place on the entrance exam, he has kept a separate tally of his record against yours in every drill. With a wooden sword slung over his shoulder, he raises an eyebrow when he sees you and draws a line in the sand with the toe of his boot. It's his habit whenever he lays down a challenge. But today, in his other hand, he's holding a worn piece of parchment with the instructor's demonstration moves written down in order.