I am looking out of the window as I contemplate my life up until this point. The academy will soon end its curriculum for us in the third year, and I will be out in the real world. I am not looking forward to it.
I know what awaits me due to my upbringing. Being the third son of a count, I have spent most of my life in luxury, but at the same, having the natural order of things pounded into me.
That order is exemplary shown by my father and my uncles. My father is a useless man, only concerning himself with enjoying his wealth and status, while his brothers run around, doing all the hard work, managing the territory, setting tolls and taxes, negotiating with other territories. Their position in life is not determined by ability, by outlook, by personality or anything other than a thing that says little about them. Only the birth order has subjected my uncles to these poor circumstances.
Even this academy’s existence serves to perpetuate this injustice. The only people to go here are the young men and women born of the primary holders of nobility, who are not set to inherit the title. Only sons not first-born and women attend this school, and in turn, only those gain the skills of governing. It only serves to perpetuate the injustice.
Strangely enough, everyone seems okay with it. At least they are not serfs, doomed to toil away in the fields for the rest of their life. At least they are not soldiers, doomed to throw away their only life in a conflict they have no control over. So they seem to think. It is strange. Do they not feel the injustice? The hatred born by being fates to serve an incompetent superior?
But alas, such are the ways of the world, set by the great founder Arkon. The western country of Pikos has always functioned this way and always will, is what we are told. There’s only one thing that can change that fact.
Every one thousand years, or so the legend goes, Arkon’s power returns to the world. His legendary scepter, locked in his monument here in the capital, will find a new owner and supreme ruler of the land. As to what that power is, apparently it is to govern. I wonder if it just the power to make good decisions for the country, or something else? Some unique kind of magic?
How I fantasize about being in that position. I would show the world how it is done right. To uplift those of ability and leave behind those without. To boot all the fat, lazy bastards off their petty thrones and feed them to wolves, and usher in an era of prosperity by giving their positions to those worthy of it.
A world where wealth is overflowing, troubles few and people can dedicate themselves to enriching the culture, or researching magic, or anything else, as long as it is not the current job of squeezing every last bit of wealth out of a territory only to feed the base desires of those in power.
I like escaping into this fantasy. It is comforting, whilst I know I can do nothing to change the unfair order of the world. I know that every single noble, whom has turned adult will be subject to touch the scepter, to have it recognize oneself as the new Arkon. But the chance of it being me, who is chosen to wield that power, is astronomically low. That is one of the reasons I treasure these days, before the time of dreaming of a better future is stolen away from me.
Three weeks remain. One week of classes. One week of exams. One of week of vacation, while the grading is being done. Then we will all be led into the monument on the day of graduation, pledge our allegiance while touching Arkon’s scepter, and be sent back home, ready to serve the next lord in the line of succession.
Well, for the men, at least. Women will be sent home and tried to be pawned off to the one of highest status possible, so that their family can reap the rewards of that influence.
“Al, hey Al! Helloooo Alepo?” I am brought back to reality by a rude friend.
“What now, Pist?” I look upon the friend of few years. His blonde, disheveled hair, his clear blue eyes, full of naivety, and his large frame being his characteristics.
“Class is already over, but you didn’t move. You promised to help me with economics!” The relationship between Pist and I is not as deep as he thinks. From my perspective, a few things are clear. First off, he is a complete idiot, who relies completely on my help to make it through most classes.
Secondly, he is strong and provides cover for me, who has a bit of a tendency of creating enemies through my particular hobby.
Lastly, he thinks we are the best of friends, ready to die for each other. I only like him a little for the services he provides, but I don’t see a reason to correct him. He has proven useful on more than one occasion.
“Sorry, I was thinking about something. This last week of reviews isn’t useful to me” His eyes shine as I talk.
“You’re so smart, Al! To not need these reviews, to remember it all from the beginning!” I have certainly proved to be among the top through the years, but his praise is always a good boost to my mood.
As I gather my stuff, my pencils, notebooks and textbooks laid out to make me look busy, another soul barges into our classroom to disrupt my peaceful days. I have been expecting her for a little while.
“AL! You piece of shit, what did you say to Mila?” What the short, red-haired ball of rage refers to is my, as of recent, ex-girlfriend.
“Hmmm? I merely think that I told her I had grown tired of her?” That’s not completely true. After all, one of my ways of coping with the powerlessness inherit to my position in life, is to take down people a peg or two, when I can. I believe I gave her quite the extensive list of reasons, as to why she was useless and undeserving of my, and anyone else’s affection.
“AL, YOU LIAR!” Her head has turned increasingly red, as if it was trying to match the color of her hair. “There’s no way she would be lock herself in the bathroom, if that is all you said!” Heh, so it had that great of an effect? It somehow fills me with a twisted sense of joy.
“You’re always like this! Three years and you did not remedy your despicable behavior from day one!”
“Calm down, Fotia, I am sure Mila was just overreacting” To my defense springs the ever-trusting Pist. I don’t think he has ever doubted a word I have said in my life.
“Yeah, Fotia, can’t you see that it is merely misunderstandings and ill rumors, that has given you this picture of me? Your reprimands are completely misplaced!” I act innocent, but only because I know it is what will piss Fotia off the most. Given her history of being the first girl I made cry in this academy, she of course knows that I am full of bullshit, and she will only grow frustrated in this situation, where the majority advocates for me.
“Pist, can’t you see how he is manipulating you?” Oof, big mistake, using such a word as ‘manipulate’ with Pist, he will of course defend me after this.
“Why do you never listen to Al? Just try believing him and you will see that everything he tells is the truth!” Ah, good old Pist. He really has no idea how stupid that sounded. I am going to miss not having you around when I am sent back home.
“You… you… ARGH!” Fotia gives up in the face of incredible blind belief, and storms out.
“This isn’t over! I will get you one of these days!” Is heard from down the hallways. I have heard those threats for more than two years already. While most have learned not to mess with me, poor Fotia has developed some sort of complex regarding me and have been proceeding to bang her head against a wall for her whole academy life, trying to bring me down and make me feel sorry. It is quite annoying, and one of my miscalculations, but it does provide a certain spice to this life of mine. I have since learnt from my mistakes and only targeted the more timid, insecure girls to mess around with.
“Well then, dear Pist, shall we relocate to the study hall?” I have to think if I want to mess with Pist, before we separate virtually forever. He has been a phenomenal shield and support, so I suppose I should spare him. But still, the imagination of Pist feeling betrayed at the very end, the realization that all he believed in for these couple of years turning out to be false, the despair he must feel at my words, that scene seems so delicious to me, that I have a hard time of talking myself out of it.
As we walk down the halls, many eyes throw disdainful glances at me, proof of my many victories here at the academy. Behind each scornful stare, is a story of a personal triumph, of me leaving these poor people in shambles with only a few words and a little misdirection.
As the years passed by and the rumors went on, I had expected my reputation to insulate further victims from my grasp, but with the help of the large oaf, who is walking beside me, it has proven all too easy time and time again to convince people that I am merely a poor, misunderstood young man, whom the masses have taken a disliking to.
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After all, could a top student, who spends his scarce free time to aid his friend with all manner of subjects, really be a crook? Could such a handsome young lad really harbor such a dark disposition, as only seeking to hurt others? To most people personally uninvolved with the victims, it would come off as ludicrous, if they spent some time observing me studying diligently in class, or helping out Pist in the study hall.
I wonder if there even is a point to keeping up the charade any longer. If it is worth spending my remaining on Pist? If I even have enough time to pull off one last, deceiving ploy, before I will have to return to the land of painful reality, it would only be if I ditched him.
I leave it for later, as I tutor Pist on common clauses included in taxes and tolls.
“Excuse me, Al?” The one who intrudes on our public study session, is a young girl from the first year called Gia.
“Is it really true? That you were mean to Mila?” She has swarmed loosely around me since the beginning of the year, but I have steered clear of her as best I can. The reason being my fear of creating another Fotia. Though she isn’t too bright, and appears smitten with me, I can tell she is not only of high moral character, but also a very stout and resolute being. If I scorned her, I am sure yet another girl would ceaselessly pursue me and plan my downfall.
“Of course it wasn’t, little Gia. I merely conveyed my concern, that the relationship wouldn’t function past graduation, and she broke down into tears and ran away, leaving me completely unable to comfort her. If only I could have told her in an easier way.” I call her little, because she appears rather insecure of her large size for a woman.
“Oh, poor Al, always ending up in these sort of troubles.” She is squirming a bit and fiddling with her brown hair. My body language right now closes her off, but if I just open up a bit more, I am certain she will hug me. And so I do. Relax my shoulder, turn a bit to her side, looking as sad as I can without forcing a fake tear.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Always hurting those I care about. If only people could read my thoughts directly.” I say, with a purposefully slightly wavering voice, and lo and behold, the large woman engulfs me with her arms, her sizable breast to my head.
“Oh, poor Al. Everything will be alright, she is just overreacting” I have to fight the smirk that wants to form on my face. Really, women who seem taken with my face are the easiest to manipulate in this world.
“I… I’m okay” I mutter in a low voice with an unsure tone, making Gia separate from me slowly, while giving me a worried look.
“But… Al… doesn’t that mean you aren’t set to…. marry… after graduation?” Many of us less fortunate souls are encouraged to find an engagement partner here at the academy, one of the reasons I had to shove Mila away now, so that such a scenario doesn’t play out at my home territory. I don’t plan on getting married.
I have seen how that ends up, with my cousins being even lower in rank than my uncles, often forced to be mere servants to the noble house, only marginally better off than serfs. I don’t want to bring kids into this world, if they are doomed to such a fate.
“Sorry, Gia, can you leave that topic alone? I have yet to sort out my own feelings.” I have to shove her away, at least until graduation. If I accepted this woman as one last chance of living out my twisted desires, I have a hunch it will only end in catastrophe. Fotia has had almost three years to vent her frustrations on me, but if I just disappeared from Gia after hurting her… She might very well chase me down all the to my territory, that’s the feeling I get.
“I… I understand” Gia says softly and slowly leaves us alone.
“It’s amazing how much girls like you, Al. I wish I could be half as popular as you” Pist weighs in. He easily could but he is a meathead, who only understands strength. If he learned to fire off a few specific lines and take a little better care of his hair and clothes, he would be swimming in attention from the opposite sex. I don’t inform him of it, though, it could be bothersome to have my sole support distracted.
“It is as much a curse at it is a blessing, dear Pist. Think only of how many times you have seen my heart torn asunder these past years.” I deliberately use bigger words with Pist here, since he merely needs to rely on his trust for me, and not understand fully what I am saying. His confusion has almost the opposite effect, as to when Fotia causes it, since the effect on his mind will be to go with his gut, which tells him to trust me.
“You’re right as always, Al” We once again dive into our studies after his predicted answer.
I finally decide to live out my last academy days in peace. The review classes end. The exam week ends. The vacation week ends.
Each day seems to be more gray and monotone as we draw towards the end. My good life at this academy is about to be over. How much fun I have had here. How much power I have been able to exert over others. How I have been praised for my skill by teachers. All of it is coming to an end.
The only rare occurrences that break that monotony is me having to ward off Gia and Fotia every so often, but it proves easy. Fotia could not get Mila to speak up. How could she, after what I had made her believe? Her self-confidence was already fragile, but now it should be completely shattered.
Likewise, Gia is turned away by me hiding behind forged feelings of sadness. She saw an opportunity to get together with me, which was a miscalculation on my part. She has been eagerly trying to spend more time with me ever since.
Tomorrow is the graduation ceremony. After that, and the graduation ball, we will each have to return to our respective families.
Pist has taken the rare measure of an initiative of his own and invited me out to the academy park. We are only lying down in the grass, staring at the clouds above.
“Will we ever see each other again?” Pist wonders out loud. How peculiar. I am glad I decided to leave him alone till now, lest I believe I would never have seen such reflections from this man. Despite me relishing in working people around me to provide me entertainment, another one of the joys of my life is seeing people I know act unexpectedly, and to figure out the underlying mechanisms, furthering my understanding of them.
“I don’t know, dear Pist. Maybe at some conference sometime, depending on what we end up working on.” I make sure to make my tone a little melancholic, as to feed into the atmosphere.
“It has been fun for me these three years. I mean, I am sorry a lot of bad stuff happened to you, but to me… I have never had a friend like you before, Al!” What drivel, but let’s send him off well. He has been a valuable resource these past few years.
“Even if a lot of things could have gone better… I am just proud to call you my friend, Pist” There, that ought to give him some gratification.
“OH AL” He yammers, rolls over and hugs me. He has never gotten this physical before, so I am a little taken aback. “Nobody ever helped me, like you did! Nobody ever stood up for me, like you did! Nobody ever wanted to spent that much time with me!” Of course, Pist is a second son of only two in his county. That would have warped his perception of how relationships function.
Ouch. “You’re squeezing me, Pist” The big, lovable oaf is crying, but reluctantly separates from me.
“You’re the best friend ever! You deserve a good life from now on, Al!” I actually feel a little touched.
“You too, friend. You too” I say, with a smidgen of genuine emotion. I think this big fool has grown on me over these past few years. I am really happy I decided not to mess with him now.
“Let’s get back to the dormitory. It is going to be a long day tomorrow” I rise up and look over the sky, already slowly taking on the red colors, that signal the day is coming to a close.
“Of course, you’re right, Al” As always, blind agreement from Pist.
The very next day, we are lined up outside the school in our best attires. Blue and red, the colors of nobility shine brightly among the students, providing a stark contrast to the school uniforms, we have been forced to wear these past three years. We have only to perform a short march of a mile to reach the monument, which we will visit together as one unit.
Students from the lower classes are gathered around us. I see Gia being emotional, even crying on some poor, much smaller girl’s shoulder, crushing her a little. She is probably that sad because of my departure, her hopes for fated romantic union in these last few days dashed by my willful avoidance.
Pist is beside me. He is actually looking somewhat representable in that blue coat of his. If only he had fixed his messy, uneven hair, he would catch the attention of many a girl, but alas, he is incorrigible. In front of me is Fotia, wearing a tasteful, long red dress. She looks over her shoulder and scowls a little at me every so often. How strange, I think I am actually going to miss that too.
The teachers direct us, and we start marching towards the monument. People are gathered on the streets to get a look of the hopeful young marching past in bright colors. How dull the lives of mere citizens must be, to be so excited to watch this boring parade.
We can already see our destination from the start. The massive statue, depicting the original Arkon in all his glory, with a fancy coat, a long cape, lined with fur, a massive crown on his head and his legendary scepter in his hand. He is currently facing his left from our point of view, but during the march, he gets aligned correctly and we can see him in all his glory. The statue is a supposed 137 feet tall and often called the pride of Pikos.
We enter the monument by a gate in the pedestal that the statue stands on. Rarely are people allowed in here. Only the students of the academy and the noble heirs alongside their respective escorts are given permission to be in here, to swear upon the sacred scepter.
However, as we line up inside, looking at the so-called “scepter” something is off. No matter how I look at it, that is clearly a mace, meant for war and nothing like what the statue is holding.
While it retains the basic shape, it is much larger than depicted outside, unless Arkon was a giant, and has six blades protruding out from one end of the massive shaft. Its colors are dull and metallic. I fear our country’s history is not as taught in school.
Each student is then in turn sent up to touch the mace and recite a pledge of allegiance. A small light is emitted each time. Shit, is this why no one rebels against this broken system? Is the ruling elite of this world bound by magic to only serve the current system. I hear the pledge again, as another student lays his hand Upon the Mace.
“I, Miles Bradford, solemnly swear to serve Arkon, the country, my house and the people, in that order, with all my might.” The light once again is emitted. Is nobody finding this fishy? I look around but no one else is perplexed. It will soon be my turn. I debate whether I can cause a ruckus, but when I looked around, I saw guards in every corner. Shit, am I doomed here? Does my free will get taken away. Ah, Pist just went up to it.
I quickly form a plan in my mind. I can try to misname myself, so that the pact won’t apply. It is my only hope, I think. After Pist recited the same pledge, a bit of light possibly robbing him of his free will for all eternity.
I walk up unsteadily. My steps shaken by the fear of losing my free will. Maybe if I just hover my hand over the mace? As I lower my hand, I accidentally touch it, and a voice flows in my mind.
“Houh, what is this? It is here… But only half? What is the meaning of this?” I am confused, but no one else seems to react. What is going on?