Sweat fell from Volan’s hair and face as he raised his sword to block one incoming strike and deflect another. Twisting his grip and shifting his hands and weight to adjust as quickly as possible, but at the cost of little

Shcuck, tack!

His training partner for the day, Angel, struck at him again. Thrusting out with his shortsword for a stab at Volan’s gut.

Volan went to deflect the attack again, but found the attack to be just a distraction as Angel rushed at him with his shield. Caught off-guard, Volan was about to dodge. However, he remembered who the class instructor was and forced himself to take the hit.

The shield smashed into Volan’s hands, forcing him to stumble backwards. Trying not to fall, it took Volan a moment but he was able to get back into a stable stance. His hands hurt like hell though. Having to block with a two-handed sword wasn’t exactly easy, and Angel having a sword and shield left him at a major disadvantage when it came to defense.

“What the hell was that, Roltand?!”

The class instructor, Mr. Hunt, stomped over to the sidelines of their skirmish. He was an older man with coffee brown skin, a high and tight haircut, and a stubble mustache just above his lips. Mr. Hunt was the primary instructor for Sentinel-class students and took his job seriously, but also had expectations set much higher than any of the other instructors. And in Volan’s case, those expectations were put even higher due to his father’s position.

“What kinda Sentinel goes stumbling backwards after a hit like that?!”

While Mr. Hunt chided Volan, Volan panted and was recovering from the hit. Angel wanted to speak up and take some of the heat off Volan, but he also didn’t want to be put in the spotlight either. He also didn’t want to attract the attention of the Old House noble students.

“Quesada!” yelled Mr. Hunt.

Angel snapped to attention, “Y-yes, sir!”

“One more round! No holding back!”

Mr. Hunt blew the whistle that hung down around his neck and Volan and Angel squared up. Volan was at his limit and felt his mind starting to slip. At the same time, Angel could see Volan starting to falter and didn’t want to hurt him. But Angel also didn’t want to get yelled at, so he would try to make this quick.

Charging in, Angel held his shield up. He aimed to disarm Volan and then strike with his sword while Volan’s left unable to defend himself.

Volan tried to focus on the battle in front of him, leaving every other detail about his surroundings out of his mind. This skirmish is all that mattered. Volan’s heart pounded in his head while making his hands throb in pain. Angel seemed to move slower to him and Volan began moving instinctively.

Volan held his sword with his hands raised above his head and narrowed his profile so only the right side of his body and the sword he held could be fully seen. His right hand’s grip was loose and stance was impractical, but he didn’t have the energy to do much more than a last-ditch effort right now. The flat of the longsword rested on this right shoulder as Volan watched and waited for the right moment.

Once Angel was close enough, Volan put all of his weight on his front leg and forced himself against Angel’s shield. Letting his right arm fall and smashing his shoulder through the sword into Angel’s shield and pushing it off and out of the fight. Caught off-guard, Angel’s chest was left open and Volan struck. Quickly bringing his right hand up to the handle, Volan swung and cut across Angel’s torso. Slashing down from Angel’s right shoulder and out from his left hip in a clean arc.

For a moment, everything went silent in the training room. Even Angel wasn’t sure of how to take in what just happened. And while a good number were impressed by the weird manuever, this was still Mr. Hunt’s class. Immediately, Mr. Hunt blew his whistle ands tarted hounding Volan.

“Are you trying to be a disappointment to your father, Roltand?! Who said you could make a reckless attack like that?!”

Volan had fallen to one knee, now completely drained of his energy and sweating bullets.

He sheepishly answered, “N-no one. Sir.”

“Then what in the name of the Eternal Flame are you trying to pull in my class, Roltand?! This is Sentinel training, not a dance class!” Mr. Hunt grumbled, “If not for your father’s influence, I’d have you thrown out of my class! Do you understand?!

“Y-yes, sir.”

A bell chimed in the background to signal the end of classes for the day. Mr. Hunt let out an annoyed sigh and turned to the rest of the students present.

“Alright, everyone. Class dismissed!” Mr. Hunt mumbled under his breath, “Son of the Sword-Captain, my ass…”

As everyone was picking up their gear and heading out, some of the Old House noble kids sneered or whispered about Volan’s “performance” today. Angel started to step towards Volan to try and help him, but felt the gazes of the Old House’s children start to turn as he got close. He didn’t want to become the new target of their ire and stopped.

Volan called over to Angel, “Don’t worry, I’ll be alright. Thanks though.”

Angel looked downwards, somewhat ashamed of himself but couldn’t do anything else and left. Volan watched as everyone left and he was stuck on the ground recovering. But knowing what day it was, he couldn’t afford to sit on his butt for long. Groaning from the pain as he got up, Volan’s body hurt just about everywhere. Mr. Hunt’s training wasn’t bad, but the hyperfixation on Volan definitely made it difficult to endure. At least it was only once a week with the rest of his physical education being a lot more generalized.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

The day now over, Volan went to the lockers and changed out of his gear and exercise clothing. Wiping the sweat from every bit of his body that he could before applying fresh deodorant and tossing his sweaty stuff in a provided clothes hamper.

Need to at least appear decent before Dad sees me. He thought.

Cleaned up for the moment until he could take a shower at home, Volan put his gear away and training blade. Back in his school uniform, he started making his way out and towards the school library. There was still some time before he was to be picked up, so best to spend that time studying while he could.

* * * * *

A short walk later and Volan found himself amongst others in a grand library. The place smelled of old paper, sharpened pencils, and worn out leather. Students walked here and there while mechanical book stockers and retrievers handled the more mundane duties of a librarian. He found it a little funny how, not too long ago, such conveniences were but fantasies locked away in science fiction books. He still remembered having to look for books by an author’s last name. Now it was but a request away.

Walking down the steps from the entrance while running a hand along a banister, Volan found a seat amongst a myriad of desks with privacy dividers. Setting his bag down at the side, he pulled the chair back and sat down. And considering what test he dreads the most, he began to reread his history textbook. Flipping it open, Volan scanned the pages to better understand where he lived: The Eternal Kingdom of Fire, Zekanto.

Originally a small nation founded at the joining point of two rivers, Zekanto quickly prospered due to the abundance of resources found in nearby hills. It wasn’t long before the nation found itself with more than it could use, and thus attracted settlers seeking new lives. And with time, Zekanto expanded and established itself as a proper kingdom. But with the amount of people coming and the borders continuing to grow, a King alone would not be enough to govern everything properly.

Needing the aid of others, the first King established noble houses to govern in his place. While the crown would have the final say on any matters it deemed necessary to take direct action on, the nobles would act in his stead when the King could not be present. And thus the first territories in the West and North found themselves divided up into the first noble houses; now known as the Nobles of the Old Houses. And for a while, things remained this way. Growth slowed to a stable point, but progress continued and the Old House nobles made use of the troves of ore beneath their hills.

Then, new people started to come again. They had come for the same reasons the original settlers had, but they were also vagrants, exiles and more. It wasn’t all at once, but they began to appear in successive waves that only increased with time. At first, the Old houses were welcoming and glad to bring in new blood to the kingdom. But, eventually coming to see these settlers as threats, the Old Houses started to close their doors and became very selective of who they let in. They had begun to fear that if they continued to let people in unabated, the resources they held would be sucked dry and none would be left for anyone.

Now kept at a distance, the settlers realized there was an abundance of land to the South and East few were using. It wasn’t as wealthy in lumber or ore, but it was incredibly fertile and perfect for farming. Hoping they would be allowed to live there, the settlers asked if they could make use of the land. The current King saw no reason to deny them, though the Old Houses saw it as a means of both keeping an eye on the new citizens as well as keeping them at a distance. So, the new people began to live new lives as farmers. And to both the King and Old houses, these new settlements rapidly expanded. In what the Old Houses established in over a century, the new lands were already beyond that in a matter of just over a decade.

Due to metals and lumber being scarce, great advancements in technology and magic were made to compensate. Thus, the new citizens of Zekanto quickly grew to the same size as the Old Houses’ lands; some even greater. But they understood the ways of the kingdom and did not seek to cause any unnecessary problems. Thus, they requested the King form new noble houses for them. The King agreed, but the Old Houses protested. They argued that these new people had only just recently settled and had not yet earned the right to govern their own lands. Rather, these people should be governed by representatives of the Old Houses as they already have shown themselves capable.

The King was swayed by the nobles of the Old Houses, but then the new people spoke up for themselves. They stated how the Old Houses closed their doors to them when they asked to live within their borders, and thus they had to carve out their own homes with their own hands. Had the Old Houses accepted them, the lands would have become theirs with time. But they hadn’t and thus they desired to handle their affairs themselves, just as the Old Nobles had been allowed to long ago.

The Old Houses stood aghast at this request. Stating that such a request was not to even be considered when made by commoners. Yet the King saw no reason to deny it. Honoring the ways of old and doing so as a gesture of trust, the King granted their request. Twas only fair that these people be allowed the same treatment the Old Houses received, and so the Nobles of the New Houses were created. The Old Houses detested their newly anointed equals, but did not disobey nor contest the King’s decision.

And for a time, things remained this way. In the following years, the Old Houses and New Houses continued as they desired. The Old Houses kept to traditions that they’d brought with them during the younger years of the nation. And while they’d grown quiet wealthy and indulged in both lavish and opulent lives, they served the kingdom loyally. They would adopt new developments in technology and crystal sciences, but slowly and cautiously. For them, things needed to be proven without a shadow of a doubt before being considered. But even then, faith in the past often triumphed over all else.

“The past colors the present, defining us. A new future can only be made if we respect the ways of old.”

- Davin Rose, Head of the House of the Blue Rose

At the same time, the New Houses weren’t present during Zekanto’s early years and could only truly rely on what they’d built to sustain them. Through this the New houses adopted a view of looking to the future for answers. They invested greatly in the development of new technologies and discoveries to make up for the disparity in resources. To them, the titles were empty yet necessary as it was the measure of one’s ability to adapt and evolve that mattered more.

“With new knowledge we shall forge a brilliant future for all. And with new discoveries, shall we refine it.”

- Victor Nisenan Elk, Head of the House of the Silver Elk

The two primary noble factions viewed things differently, and often butted heads when discussing how the kingdom should grow. The Old Houses believed that they should rely on tried and true methods of the past. That their old ways would establish a solid foundation to build off of. Yet the new Houses pushed for the use of their new, but unproven, discoveries and technology. Stating how the future would need new means of progressing, but could never give a stable base to go construct from.

The two factions weren’t allies by any means, but they weren’t enemies either. In times of crisis, they would set all differences aside and work together regardless of what they needed to face. It didn’t matter if it was a natural disaster or the armies of a far off nation, they would face it head-on and without fear together. The Old and New Houses both understood what it meant to stand together or fall alone, and thus they always aimed to create a better Zekanto.

As Volan read through the textbook, he found his eyes getting heavy and his head started to nod. He couldn’t tell if it was exhaustion catching up to him or the textbook draining away his ability to focus, but a nap sounded perfect right about now. Falling face first into his text book, Volan passed out. Yet, off in the distance, he wondered if someone was whispering to him. The words were unintelligible, but seemed to be aimed at him. Soon enough, Volan was out cold.