Chapter-1: To Savor The Taste Before A Storm

Word Count: 15.545

Kliment Smirnow peeked over the wooden fence to the scenery.

A mass of green, gold, and brown spread all the way to the horizon, then went beyond his sight to a gray mountain range cloaked by mists. The peaks stood tall and neat, and their tip, unlike Klyuchevskaya, remained flat. The locals called it, as per custom, the Flat Peaks.

From their stone-laced house to the Flat Peaks resided around eleven thousand and six hundred villagers. Kliment once traveled through all fifteen villages across the mountain range with his father and asked a lot about any matters pertaining to population and geography, and he also asked about odd people and weird events, so he could make a guess for better or worse—he was the only earthling in this region, or worse, the only person from Earth.

It wasn’t a far fetched thought at first. When he hit five years of age, or forty-nine if his other life counted, and received a feather soaked in a rather strange green liquid—intended for younglings to admire and work harder towards scholarship—he understood this place was somewhere different. Thoughts of this place being a rural region crossed his mind, but after following his father on his trade missions and listening about all around, he concluded that was impossible.

He was alone. Here, at least, he was foreign, from another world. 

‘’Kliment!’’ A voice rose behind. Kliment let go of the gap-wood between the fence and lowered his feet to the ground. He wore leather shoes knitted by his mother herself, who arrived with another basket in her arms. He saw a trail of socks and a pair of underwear behind her.

‘’Can you fetch those back dear?’’

Kliment nodded and went past her. He grasped the socks that remained between the red-wood door and picked up the underwear on the way. Being eleven, he no longer had to sit down to grab things, which was a comfort that belonged to those of old age. Little bits like that kept him reminiscing of his old world, and the barracks—

‘’Here.’’ He said. While his mother hung the laundry on a few lines stretched between slender sticks, he rounded behind her and grabbed the empty stool. He stepped up on it, took out his light brown shirt, then threw it on the line.

‘’You don’t have to help here—’’

‘’Then where should I help?’’

Kliment’s mother let out a rueful sigh. ‘’Boys your age should go out and play, fight a lot, swim in mud or something! Haven’t you talked with your uncles yesterday? Didn’t they also do the same, and look at them. All my brothers are big and strong, and they have good jobs from the guilds—’’

Kliment interrupted,’’ Sorry, mom,’’ then shook his head. ‘’But I don’t want to. Doesn’t Fahri’s mom complain all day about him slacking off? Aren’t I a good son compared to him?’’

‘’A good son knows how to balance them both, ugh,’’ She shrugged. ‘’And don’t talk about her parenting methods, they aren’t for me.’’

‘’But her tactics are, right?’’

She stood silent for a moment, then let go of the white blanket in her hands. Kliment, with rather dreadful experience, climbed down the stool and started running back into the house. He rushed past the open garden door and passed the low kitchen table. His elbow scraped the side, yet he let out no yelp. From behind came hurried footsteps, and the sound of something hitting her mother’s palm.

He knew he shouldn’t be talking back at his mother, but age had its own thing going on. 

But the same age, he cursed, doesn’t fucking help when she beats me...

Thinking of the pain he would have in his left palm, he turned around the small corridor, brushed past a large floor clock and pushed open the door to outside. A small slope appeared in front of him, laid with grass on both sides and planted with stomped green all over a stone trail. He climbed down there as well, then turned left. 

‘’You’ll eat this stick either way! Late or now, brat!’’

How fearsome his mother was, both here and in the past.

Taking on a knowing smile, Kliment waved back at her and disappeared from her sight. This was her way of sending him outside, so he had to loiter around for a few hours before coming back. 

If it was any other day, he would either take a stroll amidst nature, visit Fahri’s house to learn more about his home country Chosert, or ask around the Guild for his uncles’ current whereabouts. But today, the square leading to all three of his considerations seemed to be buzzing. 

Between the white, brown patterned stone cottages waited a crowd of people, around two or three hundred, which was quite a lot for their moderate sized village. There was no chaos, pushing or throwing around, so Kliment went past the gathering with his small figure. Along the way he greeted a few elderly men and women and Fahri’s own father, the head scholar of the guild. He stopped right there and looked over a few armored men setting a stage at the square.

Standing beside the lavish-looking purple-fitted brown man, Kliment turned to Fahri’s father.

‘’Uncle Salim, what happened?’’

‘’Well...’’ His brows furrowed, he seemed hesitant about something. ‘’We—I also don’t know. We’ll see now what happens.’’

Nodding, Kliment diverted his attention back to the front. To his luck, the gap remained wide enough to allow him a clear sight. The armored men, all clad in reddish plate armor from head to toe and carrying halberds and knives on their leather belts, put down one last plank on the wooden stage and got up. Like the crowd, Kliment watched with curious eyes.

‘’Hm, hm hm,’’ The leading soldier—they raised the flag of Aymon only now, hence Kliment’s realization—coughed a few times. ‘’Can those at the back hear me!?’’

‘’Yes, sir!’’

‘’Of course!’’

‘’Ye...’’

Following the scattered responses, the soldier nodded and took his helmet off. He had a face full of scrapes, a stubble that remained sharp, and a grizzly wound that slid down his left eye to his neck. His long hair hid it behind brown tendrils. 

‘’My name is Ivan Smirnov, a lieutenant from Fort Ascendance! I am a named knight of the Aymon Council and a Senior Instructor at the Military Academy of Aymon Union! I’ve come here with two of my colleagues and eight third-year Hall Guards under the orders of Aymon Council—’’

Kliment felt his palms turn wet with sweat for some reason. For a moment, as if intended, Lieutenant Ivan halted and cast a short glance at him, then resumed.

‘’The Military Academy of Aymon Union lacks necessary talents after the fifteen year war with the Lisan Kingdom! So, it is our intention to recruit talented young men and women, be it strategic minds or strong warriors, to have them educated under the wings of our academy!’’

There was a short silence with his words. Lieutenant seemed accustomed to this sight, so he waited for another moment. 

An abrupt cheer erupted.

That instant a flood of questions came: Since when were they lacking talent, how many people would they recruit, what would those that wish to join had to do, would there be any fees, what were the benefits, the post-graduation job prospects...instead of answering them all, or a few select ones, Lieutenant remained silent.

Combined with his stern gaze and his cold demeanor, the crowd settled down. He gave a short nod, then spoke again.

‘’I will have general requirements and benefits in slates and hand them at the entrance of the square! We will have the first tests tomorrow! But those that remain out of the criterias I will mention right now should not even bother to come!’’

‘’First, they have to be between ten or fourteen years old, with no health complications from birth or accidents, and blessed by the monastery!’’

‘’Second, they have to have a lineage free of serfdom for three generations—the extended family is not included beyond the parent’s immediate relatives!’’

‘’Third, there are no fees, and all expenses of the student will be accommodated by the academy! But! These expenses will be paid by the students themselves one year after their graduation! Do not worry, your guaranteed salary post-graduation is more than enough to pay it back!’’

‘’Fourth, you will naturally be away from your family for an extended period—even years! Do not expect any return here except dismissal of your registration or self-resign!’’

‘’Fifth...’’

While the lieutenant continued listing the general conditions, Kliment turned around and left. He brushed past the thighs of some adults and the shoulders of same-aged children, and he once stumbled past a pair of men whispering about the lieutenant. It took him a few moments to get out, and more than a minute by leaning on the cold wall of a house to calm his breathing.

Military academy...another military academy...I didn’t even know they had one!

Kliment raised his head and looked over the crowd. More than a dozen children ran back to their homes to tell of the news. Their sight made him cool down in the same instant.

He saw excitement and fervor on the children’s faces. That made him think of his first day in the military college, right after his parents death.

I was excited for a different reason though...

In his last life, he turned a soldier for revenge. Yet in this life, with his father dead from disease and his mother living fairly-well on her own, he didn’t have a need to be a soldier again. Life of a soldier was, while joyous and honorable, still arduous in his time. He doubted a regressed society like Aymon, or any other kingdom for that matter, had the same level of infrastructure or organization to provide more ease. 

As his mother had said, a good job at the Guilds was something he could aim for in a year or two, and it wouldn’t take more than a decade to approach his uncles’ positions. Unless he married, which his mother seemed to wait a little to expectant, he could support his mother alone. It didn’t sit right with him to turn back to being another man in line, a line in ranks, or a rifle to shoot people dead.

And I can’t leave her alone...how could she bear here without me, or take care of herself?

Kliment rose up and scrubbed the back of his leather jacket. The cold seemed to seep too deep inside and left a chill in his spine. It felt uncomfortable. For a moment, he doubted its source and put his hand over his heart. Though he listed many reasons to himself, and thought many more, he felt drawn to the feeling of being in a rank again. 

Not the recoil of a gun, nor the sight of dripping blood. It was the barracks—the comrades he made along the way, the brothers and sisters that accompanied him, the memory of smiles and laughs he received when he returned as a veteran from his children and wife. What drew him was the honor, the first value of men.

...she should know this though. He sighed.

Nodding to himself, Kliment started walking towards his home. But a few steps in, he stopped.

But first, I should get Fahri as well.

*********

‘’Are you serious?’’ Fahri’s mother asked. 

‘’I didn’t listen to the details, but Uncle Salih is still there. He might tell you further—so can I borrow Fahri?’’

Looking at Kliment’s mud-raved shoes and ankles, Fahri’s mother Aisha gave a soft shake. ‘’I can’t let him be bad. He needs lesson deserve...um, punishment?’’

What did he do again?

Kliment stood silent for a second, then from the corner of his eyes saw an unruly black hair sneak past Aisha’s back. The face below it was someone too familiar, and he understood the despairing gaze it held in the same instant.

‘’I’m sorry aunt Aisha, but I really need him to come with me.’’

‘’Why?’’

‘’My mom is a little grumpy these days, so I need a shield...’’

‘’Hah,’’ She gave a short laugh, revealing her white and crooked teeth. ‘’He might better do that and do good than stay. But still I answer no. Punishment he needs and your mother too tender of hearted, little Kli.’’

‘’That is right.’’ Kliment nodded with a smile. He peeked behind her again and saw Fahri climbing up the kitchen window. It would take him no longer than a few seconds to round the house and join him back on the crossroads. 

‘’...then I’m sorry for disturbing you. Please tell him I came here though.’’ 

‘’I will, and thank from me your mother for her medicine. It helped swell down my foot.’’

After giving a short bow Kliment left her side and climbed up the small hill of green. He came to the top of the slope, cast a short glance to the woman that hid her dark hair with a chestnut veil, then started running towards the right. He went past fields of wheat and fresh-planted corn, descended another small hill to his right and stopped beside a post-sign pointing north and southwest. Former read Fort Ascendance and the latter read Sparkle Beach. 

Thinking of the blue sea he once saw in his early years, Kliment kicked patches of mud off his shoes. Some stuck inside, however, so he crouched and picked them apart one by one. While looking at his chipped nails and rather abnormal creases of his palm, a shadow cloaked his sight.

‘’Klimal!’’ Fahri crouched beside him with panted breaths. His dark cheeks had a tint of red within them, and his eyes remained wet from sweat. ‘’ Did you do that on purpose?’’

‘’I did nothing—’’

‘’If you didn’t tell her to check on me, she wouldn’t have found out!’’

‘’She would have, smart boy,’’ Kliment said and stood up. He brushed his fingers together to clean his finger nails. ‘’And it is better if she learns early—she won’t be that angry when you come back.’’

‘’You think so?’’ 

‘’That is what we do all the time, yeah? Now stand up if you rested enough. We need to go see my mother.’’

Fahri scratched his messy black hair. He didn’t seem to have any desire to rise. 

‘’Why me, though? I overheard as well—do you think I can join as well? Is that why we are going together?’’

‘’Uncle Salim has been in Aymon for twenty years, it shouldn’t be a problem. But...that isn’t why I want you to come with me.’’

‘’Hm, hm, hm, huuuuuu,’’ Fahri let out a deep breath. Kliment reached out with his hand and the boy on the ground responded with a strong grip. He pulled Fahri up and let him rest for another moment. 

‘’Then why?’’

Kliment didn’t respond at first. He started walking up towards the square again, Fahri followed close behind. 

‘’It is to convince...’’ He said.

‘’Convince me to join.’’

‘’You? Not your mom?’’ 

‘’You know my mom won’t make any trouble about it. But...’’

Fahri hastened his pace to stand beside him and gave a short pat. The boy, while a year older than him here, was still a child. Yet, he seemed to understand what he worried about.

‘’My mom loves your mom as well, and she has many nice friends and brothers. She will be safe here.’’ 

‘’But she will be lonely.’’

Fahri gave another pat and pulled him a little closer. ‘’Say my little Klimal—’’

‘’Don’t call me an idiot,’’

‘’Hehe, but you are!’’ Fahri gave another strong pat. ‘’And that is why you don’t realize, do you? She will be lonely whether you are here or not at the moment. Just because you will be here won’t help her at all. Instead, you are a burden.’’

Isn’t that a little too harsh, my young friend?

Here Fahri let go of him and put his hands inside his black leather pants’ pockets. ‘’She would be better if you were in the academy. It is the second-best in the whole Union, right? And everyone knows you have a knack for thinking.’’

‘’And you do so as well.’’

‘’I am a born genius, Mister. Unlike you, I don’t dwell much on one point. Think this way—wouldn’t it be better for your mother if you were safe and sound in the army, with a salary twice or thrice of a Guild Apprentice? She wouldn’t worry over you. I always tell you—whenever we visit, she talks only about you and your future.’’

‘’You need to show her a future like that, so she will only be lonely, not worried. That is whole another matter to consider.’’

Kliment gave a short nod without answering. Fahri sounded right—he knew it from his experience as well. When his own daughter managed to enter a prestigious university in Moscow, he felt more happy than lonely. After all, unless she made too many mistakes, she would have a stable job ahead of her in more than a few fields. He didn’t want her to be like himself, suffering for years between military exams and interviews to no avail.

But being a parent and being a child was, no matter the age, still the same. Even if he understood Fahri’s, his, and his mother’s views, he couldn’t come to accept it right away. After all, for eleven years he thought he would be here. Forever.

Why do I even consider this offer...can’t I just say I don’t want to?

But he did want deep inside. 

Shaking his head once more, Kliment led Fahri over their front porch and pushed open their door. A few steps away from them, inside the corridor with a stick in her hand, was his mother staring at the dark-brown floor clock. The hour-hand and minute-hand beyond the blurry glass casing showed a frozen time: 06:17. 

It happened after his mother learned of his father’s passing and rushed home. She had stumbled on the door and hit her head on the clock, where in a coincidence his father let out one last whisper before the clock froze. 

Her blank gaze lingered on both hands, her back crooked and mouth dry. It seemed she stood there for a long time.

‘’Mom, I’m back.’’ He called out. Fahri stood to his right, scratching his head.

‘’Uh, huh?’’ She turned around, put the stick beside the floor clock, then showed a soft smile. ‘’Welcome back—oh Fahri, welcome to you too honey. What are you two doing here?’’

‘’There...can we settle for a talk?’’ 

Kliment saw her mother’s smile retract a bit. It had become a habit to impersonate his father’s speech, and she always noticed it when the habit reared its head.

‘’Of course,’’ She turned around and led them into the kitchen. ‘’Let me give you both something to drink.’’

With that they settled down and faced each other, while his mother continued preparing. A while later, she put down three glasses of water and milk-like steaming drinks. 

‘’So, what happened?’’

*********

‘’So...they will be here for a while. I will check the exact requirements tomorrow. But...’’

‘’But?’’ Kliment’s mother repeated after him. She leaned forward on the table and grasped the empty cup. Tips of her fingers, though it was still early-autumn, had cracks from the cold. ‘’It is an excellent opportunity, dear. Weren’t you interested in the military as well? The Military Academy of Aymon Union only accepted high-lineage families before—your...father mentioned, right? It will be better than any education Guilds will provide to you’’

‘’Yes, but still...’’

‘’...dear, do you not want to go?’’ Her voice had something that irked Kliment—as if she found something funny. Lowering his head, then waiting, he told nothing. ‘’Dear, you don’t want to go there?’’

‘’I—I don’t.’’ He said at last. Fahri, who had been silent for some time, opened his mouth right after.

‘’Then why hesitate? Why are you so pressured? Aunt Agniya won’t judge your decision, right?’’

‘’That is one thing,’’ Agniya, Kliment’s mother stood up from her chair and left the room for a moment. Her footsteps went afar, came closer again, then Kliment saw her raise the long stick in her hand over his head.

She flung it down.

‘’Wha—ow!’’ The long end struck his shoulder, sharp and precise, and sent a sizzling pain that shook his whole body. His face contorted—he didn’t have the same pain immunity as before, after all—then calmed down a few seconds later.

‘’If you don’t want to go, then why do you even consider going there tomorrow? What need is there to look for the details, idiot! Just say what you want, brat!’’

She flung it once more, this time to his left shoulder. 

‘’Alright!’’ 

Seeing his hands up in defeat, she stopped it above his shoulder. Agniya put down the stick and faced a cupboard sealed with compact wood. She took out a small flask, popped off its lid, and came beside Kliment. 

‘’Of course you don’t listen to the monks and priests and nuns—you always doze off when they speak. That's why you don’t know why honesty is good, right? That must be why you are so stupid. Take off your jacket—’’

Her finger slid on some sort of a green and yellow mix cream, which she pressed on Kliment’s revealed right shoulder. 

‘’Be like Fahri more. He is a good son—look how honest and behaved he is. And he knows when to play and when to help, and he is obedient, right Fahri?’’

‘’E-exactly!’’ Fahri nodded with vigor. He had a bashful smile.

‘’You have a good friend but how come you can’t be like him? Why...do you have to worry me so much?’’

As if she said something wrong, Angeya bit her lower lip and stood up. She sealed the flask, put it back on the cupboard, and cleaned the table. Once done, she let out a deep sigh and turned to Fahri.

‘’Take him with you, walk around to clear your thoughts. And...while you are at it, do you want to join the academy as well?’’

‘’I want, but they didn’t mention foreigners as far as I know...’’

‘’That is enough.’’ Angiya helped Kliment put on his jacket and gave them a pair of glasses of water. ‘’If they didn’t mention it, that means it is up to the recruiters. I will talk with...Aisha and Salim about what we can do.’’

‘’Thank you auntie! You are my best aunt!’’

‘’I am your only aunt—now go out! Go play or something, I still have work to do!’’

Kliment gave a short glance to his mother, then turned towards the door. With each step, his heart beat louder and louder. Something kept hitting the veins, shaking them whole and threatening to burst the blood out in an explosion. He understood the reason right away, so he had no hesitation in turning back.

He ran back to the kitchen, stepped hard on the cold ground, then leaped towards his mother.

‘’Mom!’’ 

‘’What happened, dear?’’

She caught him in the air and held him up—he had forgot how strong she was. Kliment didn’t speak for the moment; he leaned forward and wrapped his arms around her neck in a tight hug.

‘’Thank you mom...I’m sorry.’’

‘’...what is this hurry?’’ She smiled a little bit and responded with her own hug. She shook him in the air left and right, laughing. Her white cap flew off and revealed dark-brown hair most like his and his father’s—they danced in the air and around the wrinkles of her smile. When she seemed to be satisfied, she stopped, then put him down when Fahri peeked at them through the door.

She took the cap from the floor and put it back on. A few tendrils of hair sneaked from the gaps.‘’First get that scholarship, then you can say your farewells. Don’t make your friend wait.’’ 

‘’Alright! Don’t tire yourself out, I’ll take care of the sweeping later!’’

‘’You...’’

Without hearing what she said after his back, Kliment ran down the corridor and slapped Fahri’s shoulder on the way.

‘’Stop peeking, lets go to your house.’’

Fahri followed after him to run a while, then his steps froze. In the middle of a field of yellow and green, overlooking the flat peaks, the still-crowded square, and the rest of the village his face paled.

‘’Why now!?’’

*********

Instead of approaching the fuming Chosertian woman, Kliment and Fahri circled away from her and shouted the news. Shouting back at them in a mix of Chosertian and broken Aymonian, Fahri’s mother Aisha tied her veil all around her half-open neck and put on her sandals. Before their roads crossed, the pair of boys ran down a small hill. Past the same field of wheat and fresh-green corn they noticed a group of three children—two girls and one boy.

They were also local children and Fahri’s occasional playmates: Anya, Katrina, and Igor. Katrina had the same surname as Kliment, while Anya and Igor had Kuznetsov as a surname—yet none of them were related to each other. Smirnov and Kuznetsov being the national heroes of the Aymon, many Aymonians had them as their surnames for generations.

With their heads shades of different brown and yellow, the group halted and greeted each other.

Fahri asked while scratching his head. 

‘’Have you guys told your parents?’’

‘’Yes!’’ Anya balled up her fists. Her voice came cheerful. ‘’They said I could try—if I can be a soldier, I can see my brother, right?’’

‘’He is in Nordu—only the best of soldiers go that far.’’ Igor said after her. He had the face of an average haughty boy—with a smile proud of himself for knowing everything to know about. ‘’I’ll tell him you said hi, you don’t need to thank me.’’

Katrina made no comment. Instead she came and put her arm around Fahri’s shoulder and whispered something. The boy’s face flushed for a moment, and in the next he took a step back to use Kliment as a shield. 

Since he didn’t know what to do with the children his age, Kliment hadn’t been in touch with them except festivities around the summer and winter. So he couldn’t decide on how to handle the bickering Anya and Igor, or why Fahri was flustered around Katrina. 

‘’So why are you guys here?’’ He asked.

‘’To play of course.’’ Igor answered this time. One pinky in the nose, he scrubbed it clean while walking forward. ‘’May Pa said boys need to relieve stress before important moments. Or else we couldn’t stand straight.’’

‘’It would be bad if we trembled and crouched, right?’’ Fahri nodded. ‘’All soldiers I see have long and wide backs.’’

Kliment took down the image of Igor’s father by a notch while the unaware discussed. And, while he realized it only now, they had started moving towards the Sparkle Beach. This subconscious accustoming to the group’s actions reminded him of the time he practiced marches and demonstrations within the Fifth Division. 

His first promotion was through one of them. When Crimean lands sunk and the country found itself lacking in officials, they selected good looking men and women to promote among those in presentations and marches with good backstory. While he looked fairer than average, it was his history that made the Colonel in charge raise Kliment up the rank. They both were victims of the UAF.

The same colonel was there when he became a lieutenant in charge of Pretty Squad, who were all recruited based on their looks to promote the army and attendance in demonstrations. While many in their division and Sub-Formation Army ridiculed them, it was Kliment’s squad that charged right into Moscow’s conflict zone—

‘’Why are you walking on mud?’’ Anya asked in front of him.

Kliment blinked twice and looked around. Fahri and Katrina were waiting a few steps ahead, while Igor stood beside him to look at his feet. Kliment turned his gaze down and saw both ankles deep in road-side mud from yesterday's rain.  

‘’In mud—’’Igor said. ‘’Do you need my help?’’

‘’No—’’ Kliment twisted both feet left and right for a few seconds, then jumped to get out. He sat on the half-dirt half-mud road and took out his leather shoes. Mud filled every corner inside.

‘’Take a stick,’’ Anya said. She looked around, and Kliment looked around, then they both saw Igor hang from a dry branch with both hands. He jerked twice and broke a sturdy part from the stump. 

‘’Here,’ He huffed. There was a splinter in his palm.

Kliment felt ashamed for a moment—injuring a child’s hand because of his absent-minded actions weren’t something he could be proud of. To not make them wait further he wiped the surface areas clean and put the shoes back on. The legendary stick was thrown away into a field of short grass.

‘’Thank you—and where are you going?’’

‘’Going to the same place as always,’’ Fahri replied as they approached closer. His gaze went everywhere but on Kliment, though. ‘’You never come, mister, that’s why you might not know.’’

‘’You must be joking ~’’ 

‘’No I am not, mister introvert.’’

‘’I am mister good son, mind you.’’

‘’Self-proclaimed good son.’’

Kliment said no more at the remark and let Fahri lead them forward again. They walked past empty patches of grass and mud, with wide-leaved trees not so far off in the distance to their east. Their steps rang loud with splashes and thumps, and every once in a while a grandpa or grandma would pass by them carried by old donkeys. One particular grandma gave them small candy—lemon-flavored and teeth-breaking hard.

‘’Did some foreigners visit recently?’’ Kliment asked while waving at the departing old woman. Her bracelets clinked every time she waved back. 

‘’Why do you ask?’’ Anya said.

‘’We don’t have these candies in Aymon-Al or Aymon-Dor, right? They must have brought them from outside.’’ 

Aymon-Al was the Sixth Province of the Aymon Union. In the past, they had been the six ducal housheolds of the Aymon Kingdom, supporting the Royals in the current Aymon-Birh. Starting from the first, they were named as Aymon-Birh, Aymon-Ki, Aymon-Uch, Aymon-Dor, Aymon-Besh, and Aymon-Al. 

‘’Yeah, my pa said some visited a while ago,’’ Igor said beside him. He looked at Anya while speaking though. 

‘’They’ve been visiting here for more than five years already. They always bring strange weapons and numerous spices. There are also notes and books from famous people. My pa had one book he bought a week before—he said the guy was some philosopher or something. You know how there aren’t many serfs anymore? Pa said that guy was the reason.’’

‘’Just because of a book?’’ Katrina said. ‘’Isn’t that stupid? I can also say being a serf is bad.’’

‘’It is all about the language,’’ Fahri replied. ‘’He must have said it some roundabout way like all the nobles. Those people don’t understand common language.’’

A cold gust flew past them. Kliment pulled his coat over his chest.‘’Aymon-Wo...don’t you think we will learn it in the academy?’’

The children all fell silent for a moment.

‘’Fuck no!’’

Igor was the first to reject.

‘’I won’t!’’ Anya and Katrina were the second.

‘’But it is a school for the noble families, right?’’ Fahri thought aloud. He continued scratching the mess of a black hair. ‘’It will be forced, even if we don’t want.’’

‘’That instructor—Lieutenant’’ Anya was among those early in the crowd, it seemed. ‘’He didn’t say difficult words.’’

‘’He is more a soldier than an instructor,’’ Kliment replied. ‘’Not all nobles are soldiers. Not all soldiers are nobles. Almost all soldiers are normal like us from rural or urban areas. How many noble families are there in the Aymon anyway? In our Aymon-Al, there are thirteen, and we have the biggest land among the six Aymonians. Aymon-Besh has eleven as well—didn’t you say so Fahri?’’

‘’Yes, my dad used to work for the Sanyo Family, so I know them as well.’’

‘’I see,’’ she nodded. 

Stopping the talk for a moment to ascertain their roads, Fahri led them forward again. Their pace hastened.

Not far from them was an intersection of the same-kind in their village. Two wooden planks stood erect on top of a crooked half-dirt road. One plank pointed towards their village, to the northeast, and the other to southwest. A small trail of dirt went away from them both and led into the forest. The children seemed bent on going to the woods. Their carefree manner made Kliment crease his brows.

‘’Your usual spot is in there?’’ 

Kliment stopped. Seeing him halt, the others followed in suit and turned to face him.

‘’We’ve been here a few times. It isn’t something dangerous.’’ Anya said.

‘’Yeah! There is no wolf or boar there. We never saw one.’’ Igor added.

Kliment turned his gaze away from the children to the level-headed Fahri. Though it was another matter that he wasn’t much familiar with the three children here, what made him question the situation here was Fahri’s usual character. For one, he very much liked taking risks with his family, but outside of it he was timid. At this age and time, how did he dare to go into forests in the first place?

‘’I...uh...’’ Fahri seemed to realize the meaning behind his half-glare half-glance. ‘’Well, just as they say. It isn’t dangerous. There are no people there, and even if there are they are the hunters from our village. The season is not here yet, so they won’t disturb us—’’

‘’The problem is that there are no people there, Fahri.’’

Kliment took two steps forward and gave the boy a hard flick on the forehead. Fahri gasped, then stumbled back. ‘’That hurts, you idiot!’’

‘’It needs to, idiot.’’ Kliment pointed his right index finger at the stomped patches of grass leading to the forest. Further than their position, the interior didn’t seem well-lit, and caused the leaves’ shades to loom over the rest of the landscape in an eerie manner. ‘’Who gave you brats the confidence to go in there alone? Just one man with a stick is enough to beat you all senseless there!’’ 

Kliment froze for a moment. He saw Katrina get in front of Fahri, and the other two children take a step back to put some distance between him and themselves. A moment later he realized he was shouting—

‘’It is just his habit, what are you pushing me around for?’’ Fahri looked incensed to some extent, but still approached Kliment. 

Kliment saw Fahri raise his hand, make a quick circle, then strike him between his brows.

He leaned to the side to avoid, yet to no avail Fahri’s left arm came and pinched his cheek.

‘’I.Said.You.Think.Too.Much.’’ Clenching each word between his gritted teeth, he stopped pinching at the end of his sentence. ‘’You need to stop shouting at some point.’’

Kliment made no comment on his remark. He rubbed the red patch on right cheek and cast another glance towards the woods. The light and dark green mixed together under the shadows to create a mystical ambience with darkness at its horizon. He heard no birds nor running water, and he also heard no wind blowing here. Only the faint breathing of the children and Igor’s impatient taps with the soles of his shoes sounded around them.

There was also a shuffling.

Kliment turned his head a little further to right and saw the silhouette of a man bearing a sword. 

‘’Fahri, look at that man.’’

‘’No, you aren’t deceiving m—’’

Kliment grabbed him by the collar and twisted his head towards the man. ‘’Just look you imbecile!’’ 

The others turned as well, and they all noticed the dripping blood at the same time. 

There was a large splash of blood across the fancy suit on the man—youth. He looked no older than sixteen or seventeen, yet he had the build of a middle-aged adult. Wide shoulders and straight back, with glistening shoulder-guards clasped beside his nape indicated that this youth was someone of high stature. Everyone here could admire his looks, had his wet golden hair not been stained with blood. 

The youth, with their exclamations, also noticed the group. He turned around and faced them. Kliment realized that somehow he could see the pupils of the youth across them. They were black and haughty.

With a smirk on his face, the youth whipped out his left hand towards them and revealed a simplistic firearm.

‘’RUN!’’ Kliment shouted with all his might. The children, as if awaiting this answer, reacted in one motion and revolved around, then sprinted. Kliment noticed the youth’s eyes again, this time surprised, but paid no more attention.

‘’Crouch while running! Don’t let him shoot you!’’

‘’He has a bow!?’’ Fahri shouted right behind him.

Kliment slowed his pace for a moment and let the boy pass him, then matched his pace with his. The other three had long gone ahead of them, being the athletic children they were. Fahri and Kliment could only watch their backs as they opened the distance.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

‘’Not a bow! A fucking pistol!’’ Kliment glanced back and saw no one following them. ‘’There is a motherfucker with a pistol and you say this place is safe!?’’

‘’What is a gun anyway!’’

‘’Just run!’’

First ten, then thirty seconds passed. They heard no steps nor voices behind, yet kept going with all their might. A minute passed, then another one, and at last, while in sweat and filled with adrenaline, they saw an entourage in front of them.

There was a large carriage, made of splendid red-glistening wood, and pulled by two silver stallions of bulky physique. Around the carriage were ten soldiers bearing mail plates and face-guards, embedded with the symbol of a bear with a half-moon in its jaws. They all had long pikes just a inch shorter in their grasps, and there were also three children following behind them.

When Kliment and Fahri saw the three well and worried, they stopped and waited for the group to reach them. They panted and took deep breaths, and let them out without taking in any. His body, Kliment realized, wasn’t as powerful as he thought, but when he looked back and saw no sign of the place they once were, he took that opinion back.

Adrenaline was, his instructors said, the most dangerous drug to expend. 

‘’You two!’’

Kliment and Fahri lifted their heads to see another horse, a humongous destrier, trodding towards them. The rider himself was more familiar than the brown horse’s breed—Lieutenant Ivan Smirnov. 

His long locks of hair shook with the steps of his mount and calmed down when it stopped in front of them.

‘’What happened? Where is the murderer?’’

‘’Murderer?’’ Kliment cast a glance at the three children, then back at the Fahri. Seeing no reaction except fearful gazes, he took a deep breath and straightened his back.

‘’We just saw a young man get out of the village’s forest—he had a sword and a gun, and he was all bloodied.’’

‘’...a gun? A firearm?’’ The lieutenant seemed baffled. However, his widened eyes shut down in the same instant. ‘’So?’’

Is he checking the accounts or something?

‘’...he- he pointed his firearm at us and seemed like he would shoot, so we ran away. That's it.’’

The Lieutenant left his destrier to huff and puff as it wished while thought. A few seconds later he gave a curt nod and pointed with his thumb to the road leading the village.

‘’The road is safe from here, you children go back and prepare for tomorrow. You all are going to participate in the test and interview, right?’’

‘’Yes sir.’’ Kliment gave an answer on behalf of the children.

‘’Good, then get going.’’

He said no more and left to go beside the carriage. Kliment saw the shadow of another man across the veil, but he couldn’t discern either the shape or the age of the man. The other party paid them no mind—in a few moments they rallied again and went forward towards the crossroads that led into the forest.

Listening to the loud neighs and wheel rattles that winded down, Kliment gave a short pat on Fahri’s back.

‘’Let’s go home already.’’

*********

After sending off Igor, Anya, and Katrina at the crossroads, Kliment and Fahri walked towards the latter’s house. They found it empty from outside and received no answers after three knocks on the door. Assuming the best, they walked back towards Kliment’s house. Fahri kept complaining about their encounter, the noble appearance of the youth, and the lackluster reaction of the entourage. To him, and to Kliment as well, they behaved quite unnerved to the matter. No frown, nor questions beyond what happened. They didn’t ask for the youth’s profile—

Well, someone bloodied with a firearm should be an obvious sight.

In the time Fahri threw off the event’s shock they came beside Kliment’s house. Kliment took out a lock from the inner-pocket of his coat, slipped his muddy sandals on a sharp corner to wipe them clean, then went inside. The Chosartian boy repeated his actions and followed behind.

As the Sun set low, with at most an hour away from blinking out of sight, his mother had prepared the candles and put them on the shelves of various rooms. None were lit. 

They walked past the empty bedroom, toilet, and the kitchen, then stepped inside their backyard. Like sails on a wide mast, dozens of white clothes were hung on lines going from one tip of the fence to the other. They flapped and floated with the wind, letting them take a peek at the black and brown and green dresses, and shirts and jackets and pants that laid behind them.  

Two steps behind that line as well were two stools, and a pair of feet dangling from them—one dark and clenched by sandals, the other somewhat tanned and bare. 

‘’—and he tells me he likes not the appearance, but what I do? I pray so I wear it. It is frustrating, They come and bang our door at night, and they-try- try to look my head empty. Agi...’’

‘’...those people are the worst.’’ Kliment recognized the answering voice as his mother, and the complaining one as Fahri’s. Their sounds came in whispers, a little muffled.

While it took a moment to figure it out, Kliment raised his voice to stop any mishaps happening on Fahri’s side.

‘’Mom! We are home!’’

The women’s voice did not falter nor stop. Instead Agniya pushed the long skirt in front of her and peeked at them with Aisha, then smiled. ‘’Come over here.’’

The duo rounded the laundry, lest they dirtied them again, and came before the two women. They settled down next to them on the grass and kept their back straight, watching the laundry flutter. There was a faint touch of wind against their backs and the smell of fresh earth. 

Aisha said a word in Chosertian, then stopped and reverted back into Aymonian. 

‘’What is wrong your faces? You are tomato!’’

‘’They really are tomato,’’ Agniya added and looked down at them. Both of their wrinkles showed with their smiles.

Fahri and Kliment cast a short glance, then laid their backs with sighs. ‘’We just ran too much.’’

That was the truth.

‘’Don’t be tired yourself.’’

‘’You should tire more.’’

The mothers looked at each other, then at their sons. They made no more comments on them, instead they continued speaking of the everyday occurrences with half-smiles. Listening them chatter, Kliment took a deep breath and turned his gaze up. 

Clouds seemed to run dry today. Not one of them was in sight, most had already declined far from where he could look. All in front of him was the ever-expanding blue and orange sky and beads of sweat yet to be rid of. 

While he attempted to swipe it off, Agniya noticed it before him and wiped them with her red-patterned dress’ sleeve. All the while she kept speaking and smiling. 

Kliment made another note on his mind and stopped thinking about anything for that matter. He forgot about the academy, their walk, the gun-wielding youth, and the faces of the scared children.

All that remained in his mind was how to spend the next few days in peace. After all, he was confident.

He would get into that academy either way.

*********

The morning had too big of a bustle in their home.

The first visitors came around seven in the morning, carrying papers in their hands and dragging along a still-drooling Fahri with both arms. 

Kliment took his friend away from Aisha and Salim, then left towards the garden again. In the kitchen, his mother Agniya had some ink and finger-slots prepared to stamp the adoption papers. 

Listening to them talk about a few more things—with the word ‘Thank you’ the most frequent—Kliment led Fahri towards a small jug full of water. Apart from the steam drifting over the scenery of the village, many leaves of red and yellow and pale green flew around. Today was October thirteenth, the day Autumn prospered; where air turned colder and trees shed in bulk—two days before the big harvest.

Kliment picked up a wide, bright-red leaf and let it dry on the ground. Fahri, now half-awoken, turned his gaze towards the large spoon. The tip had crystal-clear water, fresh warmed with ember-cloaked coals standing in a pile next to his feet. He took out his right glove and put it under the curved, bowl-like tip, and grasped the handle from Kliment with the left.

Watching the boy drink the water that he intended for him to wash his face, Kliment tightened the coat around his neck. Wind blew heavy—the strings of laundry his mother had yet to lift shook and whizzed. One of them snapped an hour before, but since they would have a few visitors she couldn’t take care of them.

Beside him, Fahri took another large spoon of water. 

‘’Don’t drink it-’’Kliment said and retreated a few steps back to get a cold stool. ‘’Wash your face and get inside. You’ll freeze like that.’’

Fahri’s head wobbled up and down. Kliment let out a sigh and hurried his steps.

One by one he went through the two remaining laundry-hangers. Though unbinding the string from one side was easy, taking it out from the other turned a little difficult with his height. He had a small stature after all. And the gloves itched. Getting into the herb and medicine made her mother swamped with work, so she knitted his winter clothes in a haste. This pair was made early today.

It took him a few minutes to finish the first hanger, and he turned at that time to see Fahri standing still. He didn’t look much sleepy, and Kliment saw droplets of water drip from his face. He glanced behind, saw Kliment’s half-interested gaze, then threw another batch of water in haste.  This, of course, helped Kliment notice the slight red under his eyes.

An insightful child is still a child...Kliment smiled. He isn’t misunderstanding this adoption thing, right?

Whistling a common tune his father taught him, Kliment took care of the second line and gathered them in an empty basket at the kitchen door. He saw Agniya and Aisha staring at him for a moment, then falling silent. Salim, however, gave a silly smile and waved his hand from a few steps away. 

He knew he shouldn’t be here, so ran back to Fahri’s side.

The boy had his tears dry up and his face wetted again by another spoonful of water. The jug seemed half-full.

‘’It isn’t like you to cry—’’

‘’I am a human, good son.’’

‘’Yes, you are a human,’’ Kliment gave a soft pat to his back. Fahri fell silent again, then threw his arm around Kliment’s shoulder. He responded the same. 

Their leather pants and shirts weighed more than before, and the coats cloaking their necks and wrists were even bulkier.  And now, with their arms put on each other’s shoulders, the pair of children found themselves a little lacking in strength.

It didn’t help that both of them applied more pressure than normal.

‘’I...’’ Fahri voiced after a moment. His gaze stuck to a certain leaf flinging around in the air. ‘’I don’t know why I cried. I saw a dream where I was all grown-up, and my mom and dad were still the same age. I mean, there wasn’t anything wrong. I just looked at them throughout my whole dream, then woke up.’’

‘’What did you talk about?’’

‘’I don’t remember. I just...I just know we were happy and sad.’’

‘’Isn’t it fine then?’’ 

‘’...mmmm.’’

He must have seen a future. 

It was a common thing for humans, especially ordinary humanity members to have dreams of a future. The theory of Subconscious Clairvoyance in his past-world was one that said human children from ages seven to thirty could predict the outcome of their future from derivations of the subconscious. The present state of mind, the past memories, expectations, and the reactions to these by the environment could spark a kind of inspiration even in the Sparkless humanity. 

Of course, the result wasn’t definitive, or even close to what reality might have intended. The future Fahri saw was one that could only be possible with the help of witches, Kliment, for one, had not seen or heard of them here. 

Well, this is why it is an unreliable method.

‘’Be brighter, that means you’ll still be happy in the future.’’

‘’Or just at that moment...’’

‘’You little pessimist,’’ Kliment applied more strength and bent the boy’s back. Fahri responded with greater force, and he had much greater with one year of growth above him, so Kliment grunted and fell as well. 

‘’Even a moment means you will still have the chance. Why worry?’’

‘’Uhhhhhh- I don’t know alright?’’ Fahri smiled and retrieved his arm. The leaf he looked so intently had fallen in the jug again, rippling the surface. 

‘’But okay, I’m fine now.’’ He repeated. ‘’I’m fine.’’

‘’Then it's all good.’’ Kliment nodded and retracted his arm as well. His mind went to what the guild-novice said in the evening. ‘’Will you be fine with the written exam?’’ 

‘’You talk as if it isn’t a problem for you—’’

‘’Well, it isn’t.’’ Kliment smiled and raised a thumb. 

‘’Don’t you brush your teeth?’’ Fahri took a step back and closed his nose with one hand. ‘’Even if you pass the written exam, they won’t let you in with that breath.’’

‘’I didn’t have the chance, because a certain someone drank my water.’’

Fahri froze, shot his head left to look at him, then let out a deep gurgle. 

Of course, it wasn’t natural.

‘’Anyway...the written exam should be fine for both of us.’’ Kliment said. ‘’Your handwriting is good, and any common knowledge is fine as well. The mathematics and simple biology should be alright, right?’’

‘’You know my dad,’’ Fahri shrugged. 

Being a scholar’s son is good as well.

‘’The problem is interview.’’ Fahri said. Wearing his right glove, he put both hands in the pockets of his coat. ‘’Guilders said the content was hidden.’’

‘’What does uncle Salim say?’’ Having no idea of how an interview would work here, especially for children, and even more so for a high-lineage school, this part made him a little nervous as well.

‘’General format differs for each occupation, but he said military has a little soft handling on this matter.’’

‘’Not rough?’’

Fahri shook his head. ‘’Not rough. My dad had a Viscount’s son under his tutelage in Aymon-Ki, plenty up north near those marshes. The young viscount had an interview with the Royal College of Excellence in the Arms Department, and my dad said he faced more than a few questions about practicality in battles. Since he was a viscount’s son, though, he passed with lackluster answers.’’

‘’What were the questions and his answers?’’

‘’First one was about the difficulties of traversing the marshes of the extreme north. He answered...’’The cold is bad, the ground is sticky and deep, and any shallow water can turn out deep if you aren’t careful.’’’’

‘’Is that bad or right?’’

‘’My dad said bad. What he said, my dad explained, is essentially a surface definition of the marsh. Ideally, he would have told about the landmarks and effects of the air, the necessary clothing or mapping skills, reconnaissance, and any fields that hold military and related context to the question.’’

So it is right and bad at the same time.

‘’What about the second?’’

‘’The second is—’’ A voice interrupted from their backs. Both children turned around and saw Salim with his ever-flashy purple robes. This time, he had fur gloves and a rather-wide coat over his shoulders. ‘’—In the face of a enemy outnumbered by your forces in an unfavorable terrain to you, how can you employ your forces?’’

Strategic thinking? Is it to test how many variables they can add or ask from the instructor?

Salim let out a cloudy breath and ruffled the head of both children. ‘’The young lord answered ‘’Unless there is an enemy behind or near, I would deploy a fragile amount of troops to check the surroundings, then charge the enemy whatever possible with the rest.’’ And that isn’t a wrong answer on its own. But...’’

Here he looked at Fahri, who looked at Kliment.

‘’...but?’ Fahri asked.

Salim didn’t answer. Instead he looked at Kliment.

‘’If there is no enemy behind or near, and no force coming unimpeded, it is better to wait—but that also depends on us. In reality, the unfavorable terrain to us can, and most likely will be unfavorable to them as well. A castle can be encircled, a mountain can be barred, a forest can be lit, a marsh can be smoked, a river can be barricaded, and any other. While a large entourage means large expenditures, it is better to have hungry fighters than none at all. Meanwhile, the act of defending itself is more tiresome. It is, after all, the larger and advantageous force that decides on when to attack and retreat in a confrontation between armies.’’

That isn’t exactly the case as well and Guerilla tactics, of course, are a different matter. And this information is too vague to work on. His own thoughts that he revealed were not satisfactory to Kliment.

‘’Right, that is the crux of the problem.’’ Salim nodded. ‘’What they want, at least it was some ten years ago, from students is to list possibilities, answer the things they listed, then counter them in another way. They want a discussion in which the student can contradict himself without losing faith. After all, in all wars fought with Lisan and the overseas Biku, the rough terrain beyond the borders could not be mapped properly. That meant an instantaneous improvisation and understanding was needed on the strategists and generals’ part. Thus avoiding pure belief in newly established doctrines and a static train of thought was something vital to the military academies’ teachings.’’

Here he stopped and cast a glance back. Kliment and Fahri followed the gaze to the two women urging them back in.

‘’Of course, it has been a few months since war with Lisan ended. The requirements and the focus might—nay, will definitely change in this interview. You...we aren’t nobles, but we had broader experiences than most children. So do not get caught up with these examples and be free to answer as you wish.’’

With a face that seemed to tell more than his words, Salim revealed a soft smile and pushed the two boys back into the house. Kliment and Fahri’s mothers had prepared breakfast, a little luxurious with honey alongside a handful of cheese. Eating their meals and straightening their looks again, the two boys left with Salim towards the square.

On the way, more than a few elders lined up with children as well, walking towards the Guilds’ building a dozen steps away from the square. Children had large and fur-covered clothes: cute gloves and barrets and thick shoes, and Coats that were colors of light-brown, black, or sometimes white—in which case were thinner than most, as they were of cheap linen. On the ground that still remained soft from two days before rain, the children wrapped in the counted clothes left their footmarks towards a hopeful future.

Being a soldier was like any other occupation some twenty years ago—it brought money, and if you died half of your will would be the union’s. Three years ago the Union implemented the Martyrdom Act, in which if your death was written and documented with witnesses, be it the most simple footsoldier or a cook or an engineer,  not only would your will be untaxed, the union would provide a year’s worth of grain to the immediate family. 

The pay, from the annual five-hundred Ymon notes, also rose to the six-hundred and fifty Ymon, or six and a half Amon, worth five grams of gold. When mentioning relative safety, a soldier had more guarantees than his guild counterparts; artisans had fees to deal with in their apprenticeship, merchants couldn’t start businesses without local lords’ permits, a common school teacher had to pass five to six exams depending on the region...

In short, it is much more troublesome than being a soldier.

But the situation in his hands wasn’t of a simple soldier, but a military graduate. Someone who could attain the rank of a Sergeant right after graduation, or even possibly a Lieutenant.  The pay, the royalties, the martyrdom and  status benefits were all on a different level.

After all, no matter how much it invested in common education and individual freedom in the past thirty years, Aymon Union was still a militaristic country in its core—its history was written with the blood of all six Aymon provinces, and the Lisanians’ and Bikurduns’ and the foreign Antadushs’.  

And these children on the way, who all saw the benefits and not the difficulties of such life, were bound to stumble a lot in Kliment’s eyes.

It took them some time to reach the square, greet the guild clerks and apprentices and novices who set up booths and emptied the floors of the Guild building for the exam, then pass the mandatory search point. That was the point they parted and were led through a corridor into the inner chambers.

Unlike other Aymon and Aymonian architecture—the two words had a distinct definition, first being the race and the second being the nationality— Guilds’ buildings all had their own specialized looks. 

From the entrance to the first corridor, there would be statues of eight professions: Merchant, scribe, artisan, scholar, teacher, blacksmith(In decline and rarely seen these days), engineer, and laborer. Between each statue would be fifty centimeters of space, and twenty centimeter away from each statue, covering ten centimeter square ground, would stand iron poles with torches straddled at the top. 

The buildings were made of stone and bricks to not let them rot except the roof, which would be changed between the exotic trees of southern Aymon-Besh and the southeastern timber of the Aymon-dor. Since it was winter, they used the slender and pale-red trunks of the Aymon-Besh forests. 

This was a matter of utmost importance in all Guilds—as this was a direct result of the founding myth of the Aymon people. 

As such, Kliment and Fahri found themselves away from the cold and vibrant outside and thrown into the most solemn of the places in the region. Shadows of the torches danced around them, free with no windows in sight, and spread through the seemingly endless corridor to the heavy gates in their sight. The guild-apprentice leading in front kept silent as well, but Kliment saw him a little amused.

This was, after all, a way of intimidating the children. The serious mood, the eerie lights, the loud and reverberating footsteps; they had two intentions only, and both in essence came down to show this place’s importance. His father mentioned it a lot—he had never been one to believe Kliment would get a job in the Guilds, and thus told him more than any other Guild Worker might have approved.

When Kliment smelled the fresh and cold air of autumn again, he found himself and Fahri inside the inner chamber.

The stone gates behind closed with a boom, the apprentice disappeared with it. Another apprentice with a short bowl-cut hair came and greeted them, then led them up a flight of stairs inappropriately-long for a child. They climbed up, took out their coats to hang up on a hanger beside the apprentice’s pointed finger, then came before another door of small stature. The apprentice pushed it with a squeak and they saw the classroom inside.

Rows of desks lined up, thirty-six , with two steps of distance between each one. The classroom itself, which would be used by the elementary teachers on saturday and sunday mornings, still carried that smell of chalk and holy water. 

‘’There and there—’’ The apprentice pointed to two desks, one at the far left and the other at the front row. ‘’Please sit down and wait. All necessary tools will be delivered to you by the instructor.’’

Sneaking a glance at the torches lit on the walls, then to the open windows that let the Sunlight in, Kliment nodded and took his seat. Fahri gave him a soft pat on the shoulder, greeted two more kids, one of them Igor, then settled as well. The children ranging from ten to fourteen years of age waited with anticipation, worry, and a degree of excitement.

Two minutes later, with one last child filling the last desk, came inside the chain-mailed figure of a man—carrying a sword on his hip, a helmet under his armpit, and a scar across his face. He distributed the feathered pens and ink and chalk, and papers and questions, then turned to face the whole class up on the wooden stage before the black board.

Lieutenant Ivan smiled, gave another suspiciously obvious glance to Kliment, then spoke.

‘’Sixty questions: Twenty Aymon Language, ten Aymonian Culture, Twenty Physics and Mathematics, ten Biology. Ten discussion sections: five on nature, three on war, two on future. Three hours is the limit and...’’ Here he stopped and took a look at a watch pinned above the blackboard. It showed nine past twenty. 

‘’You can start now.’’

*********

Kliment looked over his answers one last time.

‘’On Nature: Explain the Cycle of Seasons and discuss your findings on their effects...’’

‘’...so, it must be considered that Winter should both be the most comfortable and the most dangerous season to our people—the cold is a comfort to the citizens but a disaster for the external trade...’’

‘’...’’

‘’On War: Out of the Three Queens of Revolution, which one had the biggest impact? Explain their role and present your thoughts...’’

‘’...Hence, Queen Zandra, Shield of Aymon-Thum, laid the road for young noble women of the Aymonian descent to gain splendid ranks among the administration in the Exile Era. Sixty years later, the percentage of women commanders and strategists in the military, as well as the establishment of the union, is an indication of her success and...’’

‘’...’’

‘’On Future: Which professions are more likely to be popular or unpopular five years later? Discuss your ideas and present examples...’’

‘’...blacksmiths, then, are bound to be scarce in the face of the rising artisans and capable companies of Aymon-Birh. This loss of workforce and unemployment is an issue...’’

‘’...’’

Kliment raised his head and looked at the clock. It showed twelve past ten. The classroom already had a few seats emptied of the children, who were either incapable of producing any more answers or had given up already. 

Did I give too much thought into these answers?

No, he said to himself and left the paper and the quill on the desk. Children of this age should be capable enough—even Fahri will write more than me. 

Not that it was a matter of concern. While he didn’t know why he thought of this matter as worrisome for a second, in the other he cleared all doubts. His identity wasn’t something important anyway, and his father and Fahri’s father were both men of great experience and education; the latter a scholar and the former a successful trader with many connections. It was his savings that helped his mother get into medicine school in the first place.

 Giving another nod, Kliment rose from his desk, made it clatter in a moment of daze, then delivered his papers to Lieutenant Ivan. One of the children at the front swore at him for the noise.

The man didn’t pay attention—instead he fondled the right side of his long hair and cast his gaze at the immediate surface. Kliment didn’t wait for his approval and left. He walked past a Guilds Apprentice who opened the path back and led him outside.

Though it neared mid-day, Sun still hid behind a rather thick group of clouds. Air was cold and stuffy, and his hands were chilled. He realized that he left his gloves in the classroom, which he inquired about to the apprentice.

‘’I will ask about it,’’ the young woman replied. ‘’There are tables set near the square and a fire for warmth, you can wait there for the interview time.’’

‘’Thank you,’’ He gave a curt nod and ran towards the square. Beside and near the Guilds’ building, as well as the square and the scattering embers of the bonfire, were the villagers. Elderly men squatted with the middle-aged, sometimes taking a puff of bitter tobacco unlike Kliment’s past world. Their breaths and the smoke of the tobacco mixed in the air, one gray and one white, then disappeared before reaching the almost-blackish mist of the bonfire.

Some women and their young children sat near the fire itself, away from the awful smell of tobacco and discussions of farms and property. Most elderly women, however, waited at the door of the guild itself. They also carried gloves in their hands, which they went back and forth from bonfire to the Guilds to keep them warm.

When he came beside Salim, who had an audience of young children around him, Kliment didn’t disturb and instead sat near to listen.

‘’...So Alexander replied: ‘You take my hands and feet, and you take my head and heart, but you can’t take me! I am here, I will be here, and no matter how much you struggle, one way or another you will be here stuck with me!’ The Lisan soldiers became afraid then. They were in front of a King, the son of the Third Revolutionary Queen, and the most powerful men of his entire army. He could kill ten men in one blow at his worst, and he, at the top of that mountain, was at his best.  The Lisan commander William Whalesword stepped forward at his words and took out his sword—’’

It was a story of, as Kliment expected, the Fourth War of Fasshut Concession. A classic for the patriots and the children who liked war stories, it entailed the gruesome last stand of King Alexander the Second against the combined forces of Lisan and Antadush Empire far southwest. It was the worst defeat in Aymon history, which they still were recovering from. For the past twenty years, and a foreseeable ten years more, Aymon Union owed Antadush Empire Fifty-thousand Amon annual reparations. 

This amount, originally eighty-five thousand, only came to be this low after the Treaty of Trade and Division with Lisan’s defeat a few years back.

Kliment paid attention to such knowledge ever since he was conscious of his surroundings. He had an attunement for this matter—he was still capable of maths, incapable of biology and literature, and could not figure out a single thing about physics. Yet, his memory that proved to be average worked out of expectations in military or state affairs. Making deductions and uncovering hints were a hassle still, his observational skills remained low, but his memory—what he heard and remembered all gave him enough context to form an idea about his country.

As such, he also knew the story Salim told letter by letter. Still, hearing it from someone expert in teaching was another joy.

After a few minutes of fervent speaking, when some among children cried and shouted with anger and sorrow, Salim calmed them down and sent them away. He stood up from the small stool, carried it with him, then came beside him.

Patting off a few stray leaves of red off his shoulders, he took out a pair of cool gloves. His other still hadn’t arrived.

‘’Uh...I forgot about it. I’ll treat you a warm soup later, alright? So don’t tell your mother.’’

Kliment gave an understanding smile and took them over. He put them on, stretched his fingers, then stretched them closer to the fire. A few more minutes passed and the crowd behind was overtaken by fervor. The children came out in batches and lines, some calm and collected, some crying, some breathing in relief, some pale—any expression one could have after coming face to face with a big challenge. 

Fahri was one oddity that smiled, and it drew the ire of many children. The boy turned red from embarrassment and ran towards them, holding Kliment’s gloves with one hand and his in the other. 

‘’How did it go?’’ Salim asked with a warm smile.

‘’Without a hitch,’’ The boy raised his thumb. ‘’But the biology...I almost went mad.’’ Here he turned to look at Kliment. ‘’How was yours?’’

Salim’s smile stiffened for a moment. He turned and looked at Kliment, who still had his understanding smile.

Two of his fingers were raised.

‘’Uh...alright, I’ll treat you guys one and a family meal later, okay?’’

‘’That is a given, uncle,’’ Kliment said, ‘’Were you going to spare a banquet from us in the evening?’’

Salim let out a soft sob and wiped his tears. ‘’You might as well eat my coin pouch...alright, let’s take you boys to a soup station. The guilds’ people should announce the results in about two hours.’’

The children agreed and went along. 

*********

After a hearty meal and a period of discussing the general exam, the group of three came before the building again. While Lieutenant Ivan was nowhere to be seen, his colleagues and students were at the gates, standing on stools to gain a higher view of the crowded street. One of the young students, donning chain-mail and a mail-hood opened two sheets of large parchment.

‘’Can everyone hear me?’’ He asked. A few voiced agreements, so the young soldier nodded and continued.

‘’Out of the one hundred and seventeen children, twenty-eight passed the exam. I will read the names and the scores from high to low, and after the last name I speak everyone will enter for the interview.’’

‘’First place, Fahri Akmar, ninety-eight points!’’

‘Second place, Anya Kuznetsov, ninety-six points!’’

‘’Third place, Kliment Smirnov, ninety points!’’

‘’...’’

‘’Eleventh place, Igor Kuznetsov, eighty-two points!’’ 

‘’...’’

‘’Eighteenth place, Katrina Smirnov, seventy-six points!’’

‘’...’’

‘’Twenty-eight place, Vladimir Lenin, seventy-points!’’

‘’Please empty the square—those who had their name spoken please ready your registration documents so they can be verified and come with us. All interviewees will wait inside.’’

The crowd parted in a few moments and twenty-eight children were left with their parents. Under the envious gaze of many, the parents delivered the children’s documents and let them go inside. Fahri and Kliment followed the suit. Though this time, they were led in as a whole group, which made everyone tense up more. 

Passing through the squeaking and rattling gates and climbing up the stairs to the second floor, all children were placed in a classroom adjacent to the Teacher’s office. A few minutes passed there as well, and Kliment greeted Fahri’s friends with him. Their discussion didn’t last long when the first name was called.

The boy called Vladimir, most-famous for his short-fuse and aggressive demeanor around the village, seemed rather timid today. Of course, the bright red mark of a hand on his nape,  as well as the bald hair of his told of his family’s hopes for him.

All it took was...three minutes.

In three minutes the boy came back with a smile, bid good luck to his friends(?), then left in large strides. The other person was called, and she came back with a smile as well. The hopes of everyone inside were raised further.

Then seven children in a row were rejected. These came back paler in skin, and tears brimming in their eyes. But none of them cried. They had strict education from birth, and children of the rural communities grew harsher than most. If they wanted to cry, or couldn’t help but cry, they would only do it in the bosom of their parents.

The next few people also passed and failed, and Katrina and Igor were among the successful. They bid farewell and wished good luck, then left with bright smiles. Igor, especially, seemed dazed at his own success. 

Then the time came for Kliment.

He followed the Apprentice from before and approached the office.

‘’Did your friend bring your glove?’’ She asked meanwhile.

‘’Yes, thank you again.’’

‘’No worries,’’ She replied and opened the door. Inside were three people, all familiar to an extent.

To the left of the wide, bright-brown wood table was the Guildsmaster of their village, a man of short stature and old age—wrinkles and messy white hair filled his face. He sat with both arms around his elbows, and his eyes behind the glasses seemed supportive.

To the right, below a set of hung maps and cupboards was the village elder, Wife of the Guildsmaster, a woman of same character and same disposition—except that she had a warmer look and leaned more towards her right, to a particular person. She whispered something to him, then left him to his own devices.

The man at the center, holding onto his papers that he could see a few steps away, turned around and showed his scarred face. He smiled, then pointed to a single chair facing them across the room. 

‘’Sit down, Kliment.’’

Kliment nodded at Lieutenant Ivan and took his seat. 

Under a wisp of light seeping from the window, Lieutenant put down his papers—discussion seciton open at the forefront—and turned towards him.

‘’Let me re-introduce myself. I am Lieutenant Ivan Smirnov of Fort Ascendance, and also a Senior Instructor of the Military Academy of Aymon Union. If fate wills so, and I am sure the top five will definitely be, I will be your teacher for eight years—four for elementary courses and four for senior courses.’’

‘’There is no need to be nervous,’’ He said in a rather soft voice. It wasn’t something expected from a man of his stature and demeanor. After all, he still was a knight in essence—a noble.

‘’There are three general questions that we ask everyone, and after that I will ask whatever comes to mind. I expect you to answer all of them fully and...truthfully.’’

His gaze, then, turned to one of a noble. It reverted back in the same instant.

‘’Understood?’’

‘’Yes, sir.’’ 

‘’Good. First, this will be verified by Village Elder—give me a summary of your general situation and past.’’

This is...this was rather strange. But he didn’t mind much. Not that it would have any effect if he asked about it. This was the place he needed to answer, not ask.

In a sense, this was the very-first moment of his re-enactment into the military—to the chain of command that let no one defy its orders.

‘’I am eleven years old this year...’’He thought a little bit. ‘’My general health is good. I am not athletic. Our family is doing fairly-well thanks to my father’s inheritance and my mother’s medical skills. Since there is only t—three of us, it makes things easier.’’

‘’Give me more details.’’ Lieutenant said.

Kliment thought a little bit more.

‘’I have a strong education because of my father and my step-brother’s father, who is a renowned scholar. I generally help around the house, if you are curious about any work I do, and sometimes come to the guilds to provide help for payment.’’

‘’Payment?’’

The Guildsmaster smiled. ‘’He is a diligent boy. His uncles are traveling all around Aymon, and he always asks about them. But it isn’t easy to contact...so he helps around a little bit and we recoup the letters’ expenses.’’

‘’I see...’’

‘’As for my past...I grew up healthy. There were few instances where I fell sick, and they were simple colds only. As I mentioned before, my father provided me great education, and the reason was his own level of scholarship. He was also a merchant, so I frequented between the villages all around here and the Flat Peaks. When my father died after contracting a disease brought by the West Expansion Navy, I no longer frequented out.’’

‘’I took my education in the Guilds and some lessons from Uncle Salim, my step-brother’s father. That’s...it.’’

The man looked thoughtful for a moment. 

‘’What was the disease?’’

‘’I don’t know.’’ He replied, and explained. ‘’It was transmitted by blood—thats all we knew.’’ Here Kliment looked at the Village Elder.

‘’It was...strange.’’ She spoke. Her voice was hoarse and stuffy. ‘’It didn’t matter if you were near or beside him in the same room. But a simple touch to his blood made you sick. A traveling doctor contracted the disease when he was wiping his blood as well. Kliment’s father...died in two day’s time. The doctor died not long after bringing him into their home. We couldn’t clean their house until his own wife carried the deceased out and cleansed them with the monastery priests.’’

‘’I understand.’’ Lieutenant nodded. ‘’Then let me get to the next question.’’

‘’What do you expect from the academy?’’

‘’Education.’’

Kliment said the answer right after. He kept his eyes on the Lieutenant, and the shade of his half-shining armor blinded him for a moment. A few seconds passed, then he spoke again.

‘’Also opportunities. I expect everything you sir have mentioned, as well as experience and opportunities to further my career and wage. I expect a school, some friends and teachers to make memories with—but out of them, what I expect most is safety.’’

‘’A military career for safety?’’ Lieutenant smirked. ‘’Good thinking. That is enough I suppose.’’ 

‘’Then the third question—why military?’’ Here his eyes went to the Guildmaster. ‘’Old man said so, did he not? You are a bright kid, good and dutiful, and everyone here likes you to some degree. And with your education—’’

He raised the papers and pointed at Kliment’s answers. ‘’—there shouldn’t be any hurdle for you in joining the Guilds. It will be much easier for you to become a novice or journeyman than to be a Sergeant in eight years.’’

‘’You wanted safety first ande foremost, yet what you choose is a military career. Benefits wise it might seem nice, but in the end the world you are about to join isn’t one suited for safety. Rather—in this line of job, it is your duty to forsake your safety.’’

‘’Now, tell, Kliment, why military?’’

Kliment stood silent for a few seconds. He looked at the warm-gazed Guildsmaster, then turned right to the warm-smiled Village Elder. Then, smiling, he faced the frowning Lieutenant.

‘’Because I belong there.’’

Lieutenant Ivan kept his frown. He didn’t seem satisfied, yet it seemed enough to some degree.

A few more seconds passed, and at last he smiled.

‘’I understand. You are much alike him.’’

Him? Who is he?

The guildmaster and the Village Elder smiled as well. The former nodded at him and the latter started writing down the general discussion from before to record it down.

‘’Then that is enough for the general questions. The questions I will ask now are vital, so heed and hear them well. There will be another interview for the passing students at the academy to ensure fairness, and the one leading them will be a Professor and a Commander—so consider this practice.’’

‘’Your answers in the exam are enough for you to pass already, but there are a few areas I will have to point out. If they hit you from here and you don’t give a satisfactory answer, the Committee may have second thoughts about your enrollment to the Senior Course. Are you ready?’’

‘’Yes sir.’’ Kliment nodded.

‘’Good,’’ Lieutenant said, scratches of the quill sounded right after him. ‘’First: in all answers of your Discussion Topics, your answers are too varied in focus. This isn’t an issue in itself—all of you children focused more on the question than the context of your exam. You all forgot that this is an exam for the military, hence you should consider everything in a sense of strategy and focus on military.’’

‘’As I said, it is a normal mistake, and everyone covered for this oversight in the On War section. You...however, did not.’’

‘’What is the reason for you to discuss administration and political topics in the second question? Explain it.’’

‘’...the reason lies in the question itself.’’ Kliment started explaining after a moment. ‘’May I ask you to read it out loud sir?’’

‘’‘’On War: Out of the Three Queens of Revolution, which one had the biggest impact? Explain their role and present your thoughts...’’—so?’’

‘’While the topic itself is strictly On War, the question’s focus is on the impact of the individual itself. In a focus on war, The First Revolutionary Queen would have the biggest impact on warfare—her tactics and modern ideas for the cavalry divisions, as well as the organized structure of logistics had the biggest impact on Aymon Army’s history and its military. But—’’

Here he stopped and thought a little more.

‘’But, the person who had the biggest impact, while not at her time, is the Second Revolutionary Queen herself. Her title The Lawmaker is there for a reason—establishment of Guilds, new ranks for military, structural change of bureaucracy, the exchange of the currency are all matters that can outclass First Queen’s accomplishments on their own.’’

Lieutenant raised a hand for him to stop, and he watched Kliment with his brows furrowed. ‘’What about the focus of your answer?’’

‘’That is the essence. Her practices ,first, were an example that the previously seen useless noble women did, in fact, have a worth and potential—and second were a path that led the way to a system that could allow women to be integrated in it. The enlargened workforce and the new careers for women were also—’’

‘’These are all good observations on their own, Kliment.’’ Lieutenant waved him off and rested his padded hand on his forehead. ‘’But just as I said...you need to focus more on war.’’

‘’Sir...what do you consider war to be?’’ Kliment asked.

‘’...Nothing but a conflict of interests. A wrestle between nations for the medal that is profit. It is written on the front page of your notebooks, is it not? And what do you think it is? How does it explain your answer?’’

‘’I, sir, see War as a political tool. Politics itself is a system built over conflict of interests, and when it comes to conflicts between nations, war is the ultimate tool to deliver their stance.’’

‘’I see what you mean.’’ Lieutenant, however, still kept his frown. ‘’Since administration and war are both under the same umbrella, that it is a tool, a work of politics, or a policy, it naturally means they are related, right?’’

‘’Yes, hence—’’

‘’Kliment!’’

Kliment jumped in his seat, the elderly couple frowned. 

‘’Boy, why are you thinking so much? Did no one tell you to calm down for a second?’’ Lieutenant raised his voice further and threw Kliment’s paper towards him. ‘’Look here! Look, and think again.’’ 

Kliment picked it up from his lap, which he found strange, and looked over his answer. He didn’t find anything wrong with his answer, but he looked over again. Then again, and again, and again...he read it more than a dozen times, and for ten whole minutes he searched something wrong in the answer.

‘’Nothing?’’ Lieutenant smirked again. ‘’What are you looking for, tell me?’’

  ‘’Something wrong, but I can’t see anything in it being so sir.’’

‘’Your answer doesn’t have something wrong in it. Your answer is wrong. This should be too simple for you, Kliment. Aren’t you a bright boy? Stop thinking about the answer for a moment. Use your logic—then look at your own logic.’’

‘’Let me make it simple in the way—’’ the lieutenant reached towards his belt and took out a sheathed dagger. Kliment hadn’t seen it before, so it must have been hidden in a side-pocket. ‘’Old man, give me a scissor.’’

Guildsmaster, although with a little hesitation, walked over to his wife’s side and took out a scissor from a cupboard. He put it near lieutenant Ivan and stopped beside the Village Elder.

‘’I’m not doing something dangerous, don’t worry,’’ he assured them and turned to Kliment. ‘’Now, consider this knife for trimming, and the scissor for cutting branches. They are both a gardener’s tools, right?’’

‘’Yes sir.’’

‘’Gardener is politics, scissor is administration, and the knife here is military affairs. Now, your logic dictates that both of them are tools for politics, hence related. Is it true in both contexts I presented to you?’’

Kliment nodded, yet confused at Lieutenant’s aim. ‘’Yes sir.’’

‘’Easy. They are related, and they are both tools—they are means by which the country achieves their aim. Yet in your logic, you make it that the scissor is the same as the gardener. Then when I ask you about how the knife works, you tell me scissor is sharp like the knife, and forgo all about it.’’

‘’Do you understand it?’’

Politics...its effect on administration and war...military...tools?

Tools.

TOOLS.

Am I an idiot?!

‘’I...I understand sir. I completely misplaced the order of business, the relations, and how they affect each other. Military and general administration—policy are different means to an end. Bureaucracy is also a tool, but it exists in both of these means, and it is also dependent on the country and is controlled by it. What I proposed was that changes in administration would also affect military, since they share a close bond by the name of bureaucracy, but I forgot that affecting it doesn’t mean it—.’’

‘’Stop, stop, stop!’’ Lieutenant Ivan sighed and waved his hand for him to silence. ‘’You are thinking too much again. You just lost focus of one point, that's it. Do you understand? Focus! That’s it!’’ 

‘’That’s...it?’’

‘’That’s it.’’

Kliment’s train of thoughts froze.

‘’I understand why you are a bright and dutiful boy, not a genius.’’ Lieutenant Ivan spoke again. ‘’This is an issue you need to handle—while I can see you working well at the logistics or technology departments, in strategy or on field you will be hopeless. Hesitation is a sin on the field. The committee most likely won’t want a rigid commander after the last war.’’

 Lieutenant Ivan stood silent for a moment or two more, then sighed.

‘’But I understand your point—the question wasn’t well prepared enough as well. It will be addressed later...and your issue as well. At this time, however, we will continue with the questions.’’

‘’I understand sir. Please go on.’’

The lieutenant nodded at his curt response and looked around. His eyes went back and forth on the table, then the Guildsmaster nudged him towards Kliment’s side.

Lieutenant Ivan smiled and reached out with his hands.

‘’Papers, please.’’

Chapter Epilogue: One Room Above

*********

One room above the teacher’s office, where various students were interviewed by Lieutenant Ivan and the general administrators of the village, a pair of nobles remained seated.

In the Guildmaster’s room full of exquisite documents and furniture, one young and the other being old, the nobles faced each other over a small coffee table—beside them both were two ranks of Awakened Knights, graduates from the Royal College of Excellence. They were not only the favorite, but also the most common choice of the noble families across the Aymon Union.

These two, one being the current head of the House Sanyo of Northeast Aymon-Ki and the other the named Heir of House Zaftor of Southwest Aymon-Al, had also brought plenty of guards with them.

Viscount Sanyo was quite old, perhaps much older than his colleagues who all remained thirty and forty years old—sixty years of his life carved themselves wrinkles on his neck and lips. And there was also a charred-red on his left eye, making the pupil look blank.

Baron Zaftor, or the heir to the Zaftor Dukedom, was in contrast a very young man—almost a teenager. While his looks said something around eighteen, his actual age remained between thirteen and fourteen, which was considered abnormal even in the circles of the high-nobility. He wore, unlike Viscount Sanyo, not a bright jacket and long white pants, but a simple shirt made of linen and shorts designed to ride horses. On his feet were leather boots stained red from blood.

‘’His excellency should be more careful in the future—’’ Viscount Sanyo said. ‘’What if these buffoons rushed at you instead of running away? These wild children are all stronger than they look.’’

‘’I had my sword and my pistol with me, viscount, it wasn’t much of a worry.’’ Baron Zaftor shrugged. His motion shook the Wheellock pistol hanging from his belt.

‘’That might be the case...but I can not help but worry.’’

‘’What makes you worry?’’

Viscount Sanyo remained silent for a moment, then waved his hand for a guard at his side. The man, or woman, cloaked by the plate armor led their entourage. Baron Zaftor followed the suit. When the last squeak from the door came, Baron Zaftor crossed his legs and stared at the old viscount.

‘’There were two peculiar children among those five. Have you noticed?’’

‘’...Only one. You encountered them on the way as well?’’

‘’I forgot to mention, my apologies,’’ The viscount gave a curt bow and continued. ‘’Which one would that be, may I ask?’’

‘’The one with gloomy eyes. I only stared at him for a moment, but his blac eyes were too peculiar—his reaction more so. The boy recognized my pistol and rallied them in a few seconds.’’

‘’Hah,’’ the old viscount smirked. ‘’Anyone would be frightened by your attire...but I see. He seemed...too excited to me on the way back. And him recognizing a firearm, forgive my ignorance, but aren’t they still being developed in the capital?’’

‘’They are,’’ Baron Zaftor replied. ‘’That was my concern—but Lieutenant told me that his father was...’’

‘’He is? Is he a noble bastard? Or a past nouveau-riche?’’

‘’No, forget it. His father is long dead, so it is not something to worry about. Instead, his father might have shown him a few of them. Sparkle Beach is not far away and Antadushs have a great connection there.’’

‘’I see...but his attitude is another. He had a queer excitement when we stumbled upon him near the village. He might have what you need, your excellency.’’ 

‘’I asked Ivan but...’’ Baron Zaftor let out a deep sigh. ‘’He is against it. After all, he came to this place for that child alone.’’

‘’Why would he?’’

Baron Zaftor didn’t speak.

For his father, of course. But he had closed that topic just a while ago, and the young heir did have an inkling as to what the old Viscount wanted. A wish that he was not so fond of.

‘’Orders.’’ He said and finished it as vague as possible. ‘’We can’t touch him for now. I will try to get on his good side, however.’’

‘’What about the other queer one, viscount? Which one was it?’’

The old viscount made a ‘’Hmm’’ and reclined back to his seat. His back straight and eyes above, he replied.

‘’The fast one, Chosertian.’’