You ask to join

Mistress Veyra’s metallic lips curve into a faint, sharp smile.

“Wise choice,” she says clearly pleased. “We’ll start with basic endurance and posture training, three evenings a week.”

She slides a simple iron-bound contract across the desk along with a steel-tipped quill.

“Sign here. Once you do, there is no backing out mid-session. You will obey every instruction. And I do not tolerate cowardice. I'd rather a coward then a fool who runs head first only to chicken out. ”

Her metallic eyes lock onto yours. Spheres of pure, grey.

“Do you still wish to sign? It'll be one Lentime, for each session.”