"Mother?"

"Still not asleep, my dear?"

"Can you tell me a story?"

"... Okay. But promise me you'll sleep right after. Promise?"

"Promise."

"Here comes."

There was once a little girl whose hair curled like sheep's wool. Due to her particular strangeness, the girl was teased incessantly each day. Thus, when came, she begged to the heavens:

"Please, please, please! Make my hair straight!"

Every Yule, the girl said the same sentence, never skipping a year. Her show of perseverance and dedication eventually attracted Mordred's interest. The god, merciful as she was, came on the girl's 18th Yule and gave the girl a beautiful Golden Ribbon... and a warning.

The Golden Ribbon did as the girl wished. Whenever she wore it, her hair turned as straight as woven silk. Not only that, but it waved as gracefully as it swung. So much beauty it induced that the people who once scorned her began to worship her as an idol.

And the girl was finally happy.

So happy, in fact, that in every day, everywhere, on every given second; it dangled on her braided hair and never left. Who wouldn't want to drown in all those praises?

But then, like many sudden things in life, she inadvertently remembered the warning.

Mordred warned me that for every hour of the ribbon on my hair, a part of me vanishes forever.

It has been days since the girl had worn the ribbon without rest. Panic prompted the girl to check her body. She opened her chest to peek at her pair of lungs and heart-

They were there.

She opened her abdomen to check her intestines and liver-

They were there.

She cracked open her head so she could feel her brain with her 10 fingertips-

It was there.

"I'm completely fine!" She yelled, confused.

That couldn't be! As said earlier, she had worn the ribbon for days now, and a single day contains 48 hours. Surely, something should've vanished by now. To be more certain, she let 2 more weeks pass, yet she was still as healthy and as complete as she had ever been. Her concerns would eventually take her to a doctor, who then gave her the same response her body did.

"You're completely fine!"

And so, the little girl figured that Mordred must've been toying with her.

A year passed.

2 years.

3 years.

On the 5th year of the Golden Ribbon's existence, like many unexpected things in life, the girl's face paled in horror.

"Where's the golden ribbon?"

She looked everywhere. The cabinets, under the bed, under the tables-

"Oh, it's in my pocket. Silly me."

But when the girl was about to wear her ribbon... she had no hair to tie it to.

GASP!

Awoken so suddenly, the young soldier opened his eyes. For a good while, he was in a trance; his mind still on a dream that left him as pale as a corpse. He lifted his hands to wipe the sweat off his temples, but noticed their unceasing trembling instead.

What the fuck was that? The boy muttered as he stared at them. In the dream, a dark figure dwarfed him, coerced him even. But to what? He could not recall, yet a shiver on his back told him all he needed to know.

No peace, even in dreams.

The young child sat up to stretch his back briefly. As soon as he heard his spine crack, a satisfied grunt came out of his mouth.

That's the spot.

Grumble~

The boy was hungry. Thankfully, there were jerkies on the table-

"That's a nice grunt you just gave." A voice told him before-

WHACK!

A fist snapped the boy out of it and straight onto his feet.

No peace here either. He kept it to himself this time. At least my nose isn't bent. Where the hell did he come from anyway?

Captain Nikola Martins—Former Captain of the Royal Guard. It was said that he, along with his deceased partner, were one of Aetos' founding swords. Now, he teaches the greenhorns of the empire at the Northern Border.

As a legend he was many things. Kind was not one of them.

"I've been watching you for half an hour now. Feel awake yet?" Martins leaned to his face.

The boy nodded nervously. "I'm s-sorry-"

WHACK!

It's... It's definitely bent this time.

"I don't need your sorry, soldier." The old man scolded curtly. "Everyone's already outside. In a line. But look at you! You're the only one here... drooling."

The boy quickly wiped the unnoticed drool beneath his lips. Of course, no one would wake him up.

"... Sir, as punishment, I will perform push-ups again-"

SLAP!

"Are you telling me what to do?"

"I'm sorry, sir."

"I don't even know how to punish you. You think just because the earlier punishments were light, you can just go and do it all over again don't you?."

"I'm sorry, sir."

"This. This right here was all you've been doing. Apologizing." Martins shook his head. "And you can't even do it right."

"... I'm sorry, sir."

"... Hah. In the end, you're still abusing your authority. I thought you were different, Aetos. Get in the line while I rummage my brain. GO!"

The boy scuttled off in an instant. Outside the barracks, his lifeless yet agile feet dragged him through a glistening white road of neatly and orderly lined soldiers. All of them stared at him whilst they snickered.

It has been a week ever since the boy was drafted into the knightly order. In Aetos, it was imperative, even compulsory that each family offered at least one person to the military. They should be 12 years old or above, and it spans all of Aetos' citizens regardless of status. This meant that even the royal family had to offer a knight.

And they did.

Look, it's the "prince".

The Crown Prince? That's him?

No, idiot. Don't insult the Crown Prince like that. It's the "other one".

Oh, you mean THAT prince?

Yes. I heard he can't use Roda.

What? Hahaha! He's worse than you are!

He's worthless, that guy.

The gossips from his fellow drafted echoed inside the boy's head. Each word were as sharp as the sword in his buckle, and together, they stabbed his poor heart without remorse.

Be strong. Be strong. He told himself as he wiped his tears off, just like how he told himself countless of times before. He did so while he clasped the whistle that dangled on his chest.

It took some time before the boy proceeded to his line. When he did, a cold breeze swept through the lines of the soldiers.

Winter. The boy whispered when he saw his breath turn into mist.

Apparently, conquering kingdoms wasn't as easy as "divide and conquer". One must question the enemy first, as well as themselves.

What are the enemy's weaknesses and how do we utilize them? What are our weaknesses and how do we make up for them? Or better yet, turn them into opportunities?

It was said that the war would begin once the snow had thickened in order to give them the advantage. Their current enemy, the kingdom of Rahman, utilizes the power of the Sun. Aside from the cold temperatures, winter would give them a myriad of advantages; one of which is stealth. Aetos' staple armor is made with marble as foundation, which blends well with the color of the snow. To add, the Kafsima in the air is thinner during winter. This allows the weak Aetos infantry to fight in more favorable conditions against Rahman's strong men.

As much as they harass me for having no Kafsima, our soldiers are pretty weak themselves.

Suddenly, something caught the boy's attention. Something... odd. It was a conversation for their entertainment that wasn't about mocking him. Odd, isn't it?

"There's a new female officer today."

"Really?"

"Yes dude! And get this... She's the whole package! I saw her earlier... her face is unlike those make-up heavy noble girls!"

"... Elaborate."

"She's... Umm... Fuck, just wait and see! Words can't properly describe the bomb I saw-"

"ATTEN-SHUN!" Captain Martins yelled. In an instant, the once noisy campus grounds turned mute. Everyone knew at first glance that their captain was not in a great mood. He had always been scary— but today? Especially so.

"Aetos!" Martins called.

"P-present!"

"Recite the 3 knightly virtues."

"The Obedience to carry orders, The Bravery to pursue them, and... and..."

Shit, I forgot. What's with me today?

Captain Martins chuckled. He approached the boy to fix his attire and posture. For a sweet second, it was almost as if he was never grumpy ten seconds ago. Though, he was still wearing a frown.

"I like you Aetos." He said in monotone. "Setting aside the fact that you don't carelessly boast your title to me-"

Boast? The word made a vein pop out of the boy's face. Boast, boast, boast, that's all they say he does. But what was there to boast about? Not a single day of his life was anywhere remotely close to how the ignorant projected his life had been. The nightmare this morning was evidence. Him being in this horrendous place was evidence. Hell, even the many scars on his skinny body were evidence, which only increased as the days passed.

He wanted to say something, anything.

"I FUCKING HATE ALL OF YOU!!" He wished he could've shouted that and more.

Calm down, take a deep breath. He did as he thought. Yelling has never solved any of his problems, only complicated them even more. He must be strong.

The boy listened without a word to the captain for now.

"-To be completely honest with all of you, I feel like my ability to teach is lacking. Having a son makes you... lenient. Softens you. Can't really beat the fuck out anyone because I can't help but see him in all of you. Back then, there should've been at least five to ten people either dead or dishonorably discharged on the first week. But then, I had an idea-"

Everyone nervously turned at each other. Whenever the captain had an idea, it never turned out well. Not for them, at least.

"-what if... I leave the teaching to someone your age as well? Hmm? What do you guys think?"

Huh? Everyone furrowed their brows. Seeing this, Captain Martins smirked. After he whistled, a lady marched towards the platform where the captain stood.

"This is Daphne Angino, 12 years old, the same age as you slugs."

In an instant, the crowd went loud once more.

"Damn... she IS pretty!"

"Look at those lips! Imagine kissing that!"

"Finally, some motivation!"

THUD!

With but a stomp of Martins's cane, the ramblings ceased.

"Aetos." Martins turned to the boy.

"Y-yes?"

"Spar with Daphne Angino."

"W-what? B-but-"

"Get. Moving." The captain glared.

Before the gods left, they imparted a duty upon the mortal race. Along with it, the power to fulfill this duty.

"Three..." Captain Martins raised his hand in the air, ready to drop it at any moment.

Although there are many different names, Aetos calls it Roda— the cogs of the Omniverse.

It is the reason why some rocks are tougher than others, why a fruit tastes how it does, and why our tongues could taste food in the first place. Roda is responsible for the nature of all entities. Through it, the world continuously evolves. In order for Roda to function, however, one must need a sufficient amount of Kafsima. When one speaks of "talent", they refer to this "fuel" for the said "cogs".

However—maybe the gods thought it was unnecessary—Kafsima was not shared in equal proportions amongst all beings. There are men born with more Kafsima than average and vice versa.

"Two..."

In Aetos, the nobles are determined by "talent". The higher the talent, the higher the title. Unfortunately for the boy, it just so happened that Daphne Angino was a descendant of a Megalos Doukas—the second highest hierarchal position before the King himself.

Everyone knew who was going to win, the boy included. After all, he had no Kafsima to speak of.

And yet... he lifted his fists below his chin to prepare for the fight. He ignored the cold sweat dripping from his temples, and paid no heed to his rattling knees. His throat felt parched, but his spit made do. He crumpled his brows and focused on the opponent in front of him.

Daphne Angino—She looked as agitated as a lion disturbed from its slumber. It seems that she disliked the boy, seeing that she was twisting her arms and cracking her knuckles as if to tell him "You're fucked". Not many knew about this, but Daphne Angino was offered to be his fiance. That, of course, was an offer that she refused.

I'm scared, mom. The boy gulped. He wanted to run away right then and there. But then again, he must be strong.

"One..."

The tattles of the soldiers increased in volume:

"Is he actually thinking he stands a chance?"

"What a retard!"

"Hahaha! You don't get to see free entertainment every day!"

Mom, it's hard to be strong. Really hard. The boy's words to himself. He bit his lips, frustrated with the situation. But I'm trying, just like you told me. I'm trying as hard as I can. Every day.

"Begin!"

WHOOP!

As soon as Captain Martins dropped his hand, the boy... tilted his head.

What? I charged that one up! Daphne's shock was painted on her face for a moment. Her fist did not hit the place it was supposed to.

However...

The third knightly virtue... Ah, I remember it now. The boy thought. It was discipline-

BOOM!

The second one connected fully. A sickening crunch could be heard from the point of impact before a nasty explosion ensued. The boy was launched face-first from his spot at such a speed that his head came buried inside the tree that stopped him.

He felt the agonizing pain on his cheek, but he couldn't scream. His throat was burned as well.

Daphne, blowing off the smoke in her fist, took a gander around her. The once loud crowd was unable to speak a word. All that was left to hear was the indicative silence.

"Hah!" She scoffed, shaking her head right after.

Was it a fluke? Daphne ponder as she gazed at the boy for a moment before Captain Martins commanded her to go back to her line.

Yeah, it must've been.