Espond De’negrand’s Perspective

Professor Arcilith Ma’dolbe paced uncomfortably back and forth inside the spartan office. The room had no carpet, no paintings, not even murals sketched into the stone blocks that made up the wall.

A single wooden desk and chair, along with two lamps, were the only pieces of furniture in the space. The steady orange glow from the lamps reflected off the barren walls and floor, creating the appearance of a prison cell.

“Finally!” Arcilith whined impatiently, just before a knock came at the unremarkable wooden door, which provided the only access to the office.

Two young men entered the office without being prompted. Jiran would have instantly recognized them as the two guards that had sat next to him during professor Saltaath’s class.

They took a knee in front of the robust man who occupied the only chair in the room. When they did not immediately speak, Arcilith’s already frayed patience vanished like a spark in the wind.

“Well, out with it! What did he do in that toad’s class?”

A burst of aura slammed into Arcilith hard enough to bring the man to his knees. Standing from his chair, the robust man stepped around his desk and walked to stand loom above the seething professor.

“Do not ever presume to order my deputies, Professor. They are not your personal bootlickers to vent your frustrations upon,” The stern tone and overbearing aura had the desired effect.

“Yes, it is as you say, Master Espond. I shall conduct myself as a noble should, with pride and dignity. Excuse my lapse in control. It has been a trying day.”

Espond was no longer looking at the sniveling Arcilith. His attention turned to the kneeling deputies.

“Report,” He said in the pristine imitation of a military commander.

“Sir!” The two spoke in perfect unison, their pale blue eyes raising to regard him for the first time since entering the room. One of the two continued speaking while the other remained silent.

“Master Jiran did not give Professor Saltaath any issues. He did not even speak out when she opened the floor to discussion. He sat quietly through the entire class. However, he did appear to be in pain. He was holding his head and his body kept jerking as if being constantly struck.”

“Interesting, and disappointing,” Espond’s mood sank. He walked back to his chair, sat, and resumed scribbling on a parchment. As the two disciplinary members stood to leave, Arcilith recovered from his shock and bounded to his feet.

“That cannot be all. Surely that delinquent would not quietly sit by during her entire lecture without some worthless display of strength. He’s an unquestionable disturbance to this academy and should be removed immediately!”

Espond drew in a deep breath and rubbed his temples with his free hand.

“Professor. From the reports I received, you invited your students to access the stage for a demonstration. Jiran stepped forward, at which point you threatened to have him removed from not only the academy but the city as well. I would like to add that threatening either of those punishments was far beyond your station.”

Espond’s steel blue eyes pierced the squirming professor like a worm on a hook.

“The fact Jiran chose not to kill you shows me his restraint is at an acceptable level to remain in this academy. Believe me when I say he could have done so as easily as clapping his hands.”

Arcilith cowered as Espond clasped his hands and rested his elbows on the desk, causing it to creak dangerously as the muscles in his arms bulged, the only outward sign of his anger.

“You may want to consider why your political masters did not mention to you that Jiran is the direct disciple of Master Lenton Filibree. Whatever game your little faction is playing, Jiran is far too hot a fire for your schemes. If he is provoked again and chooses to purge a few unruly elements, I may just let him.”

“P-p-preposterous! Master Filibree swore to never take on another pupil. There is no way. That's not possible!” His voice turned into a high pitch squeak as his shallow, gasping breaths failed to fill his lungs.

“Get out, Arcilith. I have no desire to watch as you gradually come to understand the implications of the stage you are attempting to play upon,” The shooing motions of Espond’s hand were accompanied by harmless bursts of aura that helped propel the thunderstruck professor toward the door.

The deputy who had not spoken moved to open the door and then closed it behind the stumbling man.

“Why does Firik put up with that nitwit? Perhaps it’s because he’s too stupid to question orders. I suppose there is a place for that level of fanaticism in any hierarchy,” Espond answered his own rhetorical question.

“Anything else to add, Azim, Cyrus?” Espond’s eyes traveled between his two nephews.

“There is something seriously wrong with that kid. Sitting next to him was like being wrapped up by a giant snake that was just waiting until it felt like eating me.” Azim spoke up first, his brother nodded, agreeing with his words.

“Cyrus, anything to add?”

“I think I would rather ask Princess Olive to marry me than fight Jiran,” Cyrus shivered as he slightly clenched his knees together with a grimace.

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Espond’s bark of laughter caused the brothers to jerk in surprise at the sudden loud noise. His stony disposition returned almost instantly.

“Good instincts, as usual. I’m glad you both understand. Make it clear to the rest of the disciplinary staff that they are not to antagonize Jiran,” His gaze hardened further as his aura whipped out and sealed the room from potential eavesdroppers.

“One last thing, boys. And this information doesn’t leave this room. The Emperor's orders are to let Jiran have the run of the academy. I don’t know what that crafty bastard is planning, but it looks like Jiran is the tip of his spear this time around. The pieces on the board are moving. As usual, we will try to stay out of it and clean up the mess after.

“Dismissed,” Espond was already looking down at the letter in his hand as his nephews exited the room.

A fond smile played across his stony features as he skimmed the excellent penmanship for the sixth time.

I really thought you had given up the competition, Lenton. Throwing your kid into the wolves den hardly makes sense if you're aiming for the seventh seat. Just what are you and Dominus planning?

Jiran’s Perspective

The cafeteria was already packed when Jiran arrived. There were seven food counters each with its own tier of meals and separate line. Jiran examined each counter before selecting the Tier five line.

It was typically safe to eat food three tiers above yourself without getting tier poisoning. This left the Tier six and seven lines the most crowded. Students who usually did not get to eat such high-density foods were eager to fill their bellies with power-packed meals.

So that puts the average tier of students somewhere between three and four. Makes sense with how hard it is to move beyond Tier three.

Jiran ignored the laughs and jeers of his peers as they noticed him in the Tier five line. He was happy the wait was short and the food smelled the best of any of the counters.

Arriving at the counter, a bored-looking kitchen staff slopped a massive mound of meaty spaghetti onto his plate without looking up at him. Her eyes were already on the next tray in line, her spoon full and ready.

He kept his aura tight as he headed toward an empty seat along the wall. There were plenty of students eating alone. He knew that it would be easy to find some to share lunchtime with, but he decided to sit alone.

Attempting to socialize at this point is meaningless. My reputation is shot, which is fine. I don’t need to make more than one or two good allies and I have an entire year to find them.

I need people who stand out. People who are strong enough to cover my back on the front line. I definitely don’t want any sycophant ass-kissers.

Once I start teaching classes, I’m sure a few promising ones will show up. Until then, I’m going to learn what I can and enjoy myself. This is supposed to be my vacation after all.

Jiran finished his meal which tasted just as delicious as it had smelled. With a satisfied smile, he left the massive lunch hall and headed underground into the sprawling training fields.

The second half of every day was supposed to be dedicated to physical training. He had very little information on exactly what that would entail and was excited to find out.

The area itself did not give him any clues. The cavern was large enough that Jiran assumed it must extend well beyond the academy grounds on the surface. There were thirty-meter-thick pillars of some yellow metal spaced every half kilometer. They ran from the floor to the ceiling sixty meters above.

The ceiling and walls in the distance all looked to be made of the same stones as the academy pyramid. The floor was covered in packed dirt without a blade of grass in sight. There were hills, forests, rivers, and pits of mud. Each different biome looked purposely crafted for some purpose or other.

The blue light that suffused the entire area reminded Jiran of the blue skies of Earth. He breathed deeply, smelling the perfectly replicated natural smells of a forest.

Jiran smiled happily at the feeling of excitement bubbling inside his chest.

This place is going to be fun. I feel like the first time I trained with Samris. When he threw that spear at me and showed me how to fight, all the possibilities of where I could take my life expanded. Will this place similarly stretch my horizons?

Being one of the first to arrive, Jiran found a space far to the side of the main stairs and pushed his aura through its daily cycle of use and expansion. By the time he was done, the barren dirt field in front of the stairs was packed with the entire student body.

Jiran estimated around three thousand people were present.

There is an officer academy and a military academy in each metropole of the empire. If each of them has three thousand students, that's only thirty thousand people my age.

Since only one in ten take the imperial tithe and join the military, does that mean there are only three hundred thousand people my age in the entirety of the empire?

Jirans morbid thoughts were disrupted by a figure suddenly appearing in the air before the students. He recognized the cute face and small body of the professor who had conducted his physical exam.

"My name is Professor Sophia Linden. Behind you along the wall are the changing rooms. Starting tomorrow, you will each present yourselves in the provided equipment, on time."

She did not raise her voice when she spoke, nor did she add any emotional inflection. Regardless, the smell of fear permeated the air as three thousand people, in tight proximity, all simultaneously began to sweat.

Jiran was one of the few spared from the onslaught of her aura. He felt the extension of her will splash against his own aura. Thankfully she was far enough away that she could not instantly overpower him like the last time they met.

For everyone without an aura, her supreme control displayed itself as fear injected directly into their bodies against their will.

"Split into three groups."

As she spoke the words, two flat panels of air solidified within their ranks. The air pushed any student standing too close, forcing the conglomerate of students into three sections.

What's the point of asking if you're going to do it yourself?

"Class M, each of you take a group and lead them around the Garden. Every training section is flagged. I expect every student to memorize all the flags by the end of the day."

Jiran didn't waste any time. He recognized the snapped command from training with Samris. Hesitation would be met with disciplinary action, and Sophia was definitely a woman who could mete out a punishment.

He took to the air and promptly flew with his aura to hover above the nearest group, claiming it as his own.

His fellow students looked up at him with mixed expressions. He recognized fear, excitement, anger, frustration, and jealousy.

Their feelings barely registered as his aura spread to encompass as many as possible. He repelled the oscillating energies that were still emanating from Sophia.

As his aura blocked the forced fear, those of his group relaxed. Jiran did not care what their emotional state was. He simply wanted them ready to move.

This was the first time he would take command of his peers.

This was the time for action.