#

Pink light of the rising sun touched the spire on top of the rectorate’s tower and the mist over nearby brushwood started to fade into the early morning. The massive buildings of the Southern Military Academy were still silent. Greghom’s footsteps sounded like a cannon in this stillness. He used Demand not long ago on a farmer who went out to collect fresh eggs, she was very understanding and said she knew him by sight. He was coming back from a meeting in the capital with the most prominent figures in the Solummgerian army. The reason for the said meeting was unsettling. It was about to change the course of lives of almost every student here, Greghom did not doubt it. Yet, he hoped he could still be wrong.

#

Only half an hour passed since the sunrise when loud gong ripped through dreams of hundreds of students in the Southern Military Academy. Ottaine crawled from her bed and put her face in the bowl of ice-cold water.

The fact that Solummger hasn’t been at war for over a generation didn’t mean the country can stop training new officers that could defend it or its allies, moreover, the military academies not only provided new officers but also people who would work in the society keeping everything in order, guarding it against criminals, putting fires out. Two best friends, Ottaine and Kyeta, as well as other sixth year students, had already finished their education but it was a custom that the graduates were to spend the first three days of the new academic year together with other students, on the campus, before the official graduation ceremony. Where, when and why did this custom start is a subject of at least four different legends.

One was dating to a hundred and fifty years back when a pestilence struck the Island at the end of the summer and fresh graduates couldn’t go to their designated troop centres. They started gathering in alma maters to continue training and in the end, they forced the provosts to declare annual coming-back a custom.

The second one had its origins in one of the Northern Military Academy’s surrounding pubs. A beautiful barwoman was left heartbroken by a young officer who started his career elsewhere. One afternoon he visited her for the last time to be abducted by the lady. His former students came to rescue him and stayed for three days to celebrate the victory. Yes, such a version.

The third one was even worse in its silliness: once upon a time a dragon of an unknown species got free and ate all the crops in nearby fields (near which academy – nobody knew) so people were called back to help with food rations distribution.

The fourth one was like this: three hundred years ago a provost lost a bet with his students and let them roam the premises for three days after summer.

All the stories were stupid, none of them had any record or could be proven and it was considered a matter of time, maybe another hundred years before a fifth emerges.

So the sixth year students travelled back at the beginning of the new academic year to spend last days and nights in their old beds and participate in the morning assemblies, being given minor side tasks like cleaning and helping with the dragons, and mocking first-year rookies. On the third day, the ceremony of graduation was performed and after that, all former students were ‘dispatched’ to their specific destinations. The summer before was also the only proper holiday time for most, if not every officer-to-be. The common practice was that all the Military Academies students were gaining their points by volunteering in jobs like Crime Prevention and Prosecution offices, fire services, welfare assistance and so on. The only ones who didn’t involve themselves in such activities were farmers’ sons and daughters, who travelled back to their family homes to help on the fields and with the stock, thus ticking the practice points. And now, the last summer following the sixth year was a ‘duty-free’ time apart from two weeks in social services for everyone. The rest was finally family time, adventure pursuits, craziness. Kyeta and Ottaine, together with their friends from the male dormitory, still smiled recalling time spent in the elves' enclave in Sjaell with Kyeta’s family.

Now Kyeta and Ottaine were standing next to each other on attention among other young people listening to the rectoress’ speech welcoming the first years, reminding about the general policies and warning the latecomers about consequences. In the end, she changed her tone into casual saying:

‘Today we are expecting very warm weather with a clear sky. This is a health warning for elves especially. Do not stay outside without a military-approved sunblock.’

‘Seriously?’ Kyeta whispered to her friend when the assembly was over, ‘do we look like stupid kids to her? Don’t tell the granny how to make cookies, don’t teach a father how to make children, don’t instruct so-called elves how to sun-protect!’ she finished angrily.

‘To be honest,’ replied Ottaine, 'last June you ignored the warning and burned so badly you had a fever for a week.’

‘All right, but last time I ran out of the block. Anyway, you can’t treat every elf the same way. This is insane, just look at Oveeleen! He’s as an elf as fuck but he never even slightly turns pink! Or Tcar. She has black hair like you and eyes with a perfect slant but she’s an elf too (she told me herself, her mother is from Sjaell and her father was... I can’t remember what she said), and she always turns brown, it’s like some crazy on-off elvishness! Oh hell, it seems I’m the worst kind!’ - she finished laughing while they were returning to the barracks.

‘Actually, I read the worst are those with fire hair and dotted face, called Autumn Elves. I’m not sure if they exist,’ replied Ottaine.

‘A Red, or Autumn ones. Yes, they are paler than I am. Usually, their eyes are either blue like mine, or grey, or green. Not like grass, a pale green. I haven’t seen any, they might be extinct. My father would kill me for saying that.’

‘You mean using the word ‘extinct’? Implying you were some different species? Not humans?’

‘Exactly. You’ve met him, you know how... narrow-minded he is. He has never left Sjaell region, I doubt he has ever left the Sjaell town itself! He has been living among elves all his life. It made him arrogant. The word ‘elf’ doesn’t help. It makes people like my father think we are somehow different from other people. I mean in a way other than our hair and eyes and light skin. The word itself started as a joke, it was taken from some fairy tales. Someone somewhere thought it would be funny to use it in a totally different meaning, and now everybody uses it. And my father thinks he’s a member of some stupid elite. But he’s not.’

‘Yes, yes. You already told me that at least six times. But Kyeta, are you sure you’re talking about the man who was spoiling us all summer, cooking all day family recipes’ meals and taking us all the way to the lakes?’ Ottaine smiled at the memory. ‘I must admit, I start thinking maybe racial separatists like him are the reason your kind is still alive. I don’t want to live in a world where everybody looks the same, without your blond hair and sky eyes. None of us looks like our ancestors from thousands or millions of years ago but you girl, you are living proof the old world was bigger, people lived on all the continents before the common era! Let’s get back to our beds and I’ll pour a drink and raise a toast to the Solummger’s elves, or Pale Faces, or whatever you want to call yourself.’

‘Kyeta is fine,’ replied Kyeta.

After the students went to check their schedules, a bunch of graduates were left on their own. They knew that according to the tradition, which not only provided fun for them but was mercilessly used by staff and lecturers to give the ‘Three Dayers’ random tasks (that had to be carried on on the threat of not being given the uniform), any time somebody may end the sweet idleness. Ottaine and Kyeta, best friends since the first year, joined by oval faced, handsome and quiet Verlar, the rising star as a dragon Tamer, walked the grounds recalling the best and the worst moments of the past six years.

‘Do you remember the day we met?’ he asked with a smirk. ‘We were naive and a bit crazy freshers who managed to cause damage to the machinery hall doors’.

‘I didn’t. Ota did with your help’, Kyeta protested.

‘Do you need a reminder, traitor? I remember that day very clearly’, Ottaine laughed. ‘It was the second week, we had a machinery introduction day. After a lecture, we were free to roam the arsenal. Steam tanks, battle rook, quarrel launchers. You and I headed cheerfully towards a rook and went inside. I asked ‘what is this yellow here’ while you were assessing our fellow students’ body structure through a gap on the second level. The next thing I remember was your high pitched squeak when you spotted Iarhuk or Sined, and you literally fell on me saying ‘Ota, I might be in love!’. Your expressive behaviour led to my loss of balance and activation of the yellow something that happened to be a part of the launcher ignition. Pressing a button with my foot which was looking for support did not help and the next thing we heard a loud ‘boom!’. It was the door. Nobody was hurt, we were called outside and given the Look from that short woman, you remember, the one who left in our second year, who for the first moments wanted to expel us, but did not, instead charged us with repairing the damage. Not the end of the story, just when she finished talking there was another ‘boom!’ and a handful of quarrels ended the gate forever. Verlar’s terrified look from behind the launcher was unforgettable but there were three of us to do the job. So, if you ever again try to deny your active role in that incident I am going to kill myself, die, and haunt you in your sleep forever.’

‘Fine. But this is the last time we are talking about this. From tomorrow – it did not happen.’

‘You know what, Kyeta? I think in a few years you’ll change your mind. This will be your most innocent memory,’ Verlar affirmed to his friend.

‘You are wrong. Ever since I’ve been an obedient student and never did anything to make anybody blush.’ She said firmly, knowing very well this was a lie and both Verlar and Ottaine were aware of that.

#

On the way back they saw Greghom talking fervently with the rectoress in front of the main building. She was holding a folder with sheets of paper and they were discussing some of the contents.

‘Did you see him this morning? He came back from Rekeeren in a not very cheerful mood,’ Kyeta said in a low voice.

‘Does anybody know what that was about? Landhapis again?’ Ottaine asked.

‘You mean that gossip about the war? They wouldn’t tell us,’ Kyeta replied. ‘Unless… the day after tomorrow we will be officers. Maybe then we will be told. If Landhapis called the Treaty – we must be told.’

‘Two more days and we know where we are. How exciting it is!’ said Verlar who already knew he will be given an extra duty the following two years.

‘How will they sort it out with you, Verlar?’

‘You want to know my answer? It’s their problem,’ he laughed.

#

After graduating from the academy the students were chosen into a specific service: Crime and Conflicts, Infantry, Engineering with Tactics, Naval, Civilian Services and Special Forces. All but the last one depended on the student’s choice and her or his predispositions and during the final exams. The body of professors was making a final decision which was revealed two months later during the graduation ceremony. The Special Forces were something different. It was made exclusively from ‘essudi’, people with special abilities that allowed them to do things considered to be almost magical and fantastic in the distant past. They were born not made, the full transformation into an essudus was happening in the Domicile, essudi’s headquarter in the mountains. Nobody but essudi knew how. They liked to keep their secrets. Essudi were exclusively recruited from among military students at the end of the sixth year. An essudus representative in a school was responsible for that. In the Southern Academy, it was Greghom, Strategies and Planning reader. It was very rare to find an essudus, there were not more than ten each year entering the Domicile, sometimes none for years. When a candidate was found he or she was going for a standard two years training, just like every other section. There, young Special Forces officers were becoming fully ‘transformed' energy-suckers and then officially joined the king’s army. The Specials seemed to not keep the traditional hierarchy. You could never hear an essudus use rank names among each other and the commanders together with low rank officers didn’t communicate using orders and ‘yessirs’. They answered to the king and, in case of a war, the Field Marshall.

#

Last May and June nineteen students of the Southern Military Academy were taking the final exams. After a month of exhausting assessments, writings, presentations, physical tests and being nervous every second day – the last bit was a piece of cake. The last meeting called customary an ‘exam’ was a casual talk with all the professors about plans for the future and that was usually the day the committee started deciding where to send the graduate after the autumn ceremony.

Ottaine remembered how light-headed she felt climbing the stairs realising this is the last time she will answer questions, the last time she will be a senior in this Academy. Among students, the final exams were called ‘hook-nose’, the name of a dragon that has been extinct for at least a few thousand years. The dragon looked terrifying and ugly with its huge hook-shaped nose but was a plant-eating gentle giant that people in the continent bred for meat and soft feathers.

#

The board was made of all forces representatives and faculties’ deans. She stood in front of bored and fatigued faces. Some people were taking notes, others were glaring into the distance. Greghom, sitting next to Ms Snevgall, had his eyes fixed on the provost, who was holding Ottaine’s files. She put them neatly on the table and said:

‘Ms Lileghom, which forces have you chosen?’

‘I choose Infantry.’ replied Ottaine firmly, ‘and in case I can’t get it my second choice is Naval’.

‘Right...’ murmured the provost making a note. ‘Have you got any questions regarding any of the military forces and their training?... No? Very well. Do any of my colleagues have a question for Ms Lileghom?’ The provost lifted her head and for a brief moment laid her eyes on professor Greghom. Indeed, Greghom, who had been leaning backwards on his chair like he were to fall asleep, straightened up, uncrossed his arms, looked Ottaine in the eyes and quietly started asking:

‘Ms Ottaine Lileghom. Please, tell me. You wanted to be a soldier to proof something to your family’ For a brief moment, Ottaine was surprised by this question. Greghom was looking right into her eyes which was making her uncomfortable. Yet she answered calmly that she started having an interest in military science as a child, that she was playing soldiers and having battles with her brothers, that at school she developed a keen interest in the history of conflicts and strategics... blah blah blah, she could go on and on. It had nothing to do with prooving anything. When she finished Greghom stood up, still maintaining eye contact, so she had to lift her head. Essudi can control the mind, maybe he’s controlling me?, she thought, but I don’t feel controlled. Maybe I wouldn’t if I were? So am I? Meantime, Greghom was speaking again, leaning, his knuckles on the desk. His whole posture reminded someone angry, or highly focused and concentrated.

‘And from the very beginning, you were considering the infantry your preferred choice.’ This sounded more like a statement than a question.

‘No,’ she said and his eyes squinted. ‘I didn’t have any preference till the fifth year,’ she finished. What was his problem? Everybody seemed not to listen to the conversation, checking the files, scribbling on a piece of paper or... did she see one or two drawing dogs? You could feel Greghom’s tension very clearly, but Ottaine was relaxed. Whatever his problem was, it was not her problem. She knew she did very well during the last month and even if she were not given Infantry, she knew she would accept any choice made for her.

‘I want you to say that you are feeling very nervous right now... and a little bit hungry’ he said. Ottaine couldn’t hold it any longer and, professor or not, she looked at him with disdain. What is this old prick trying to do?

‘No. Sir. I am not hungry, or thirsty, or whatever, at all. Nervous? Of course, this is an exam after a long month of...’

‘That’s all right, madam,’ suddenly he smiled, sat down, and his voice changed. ‘You can go now. I see you did very well during the session. I remember you as my student in the third year, you did a great job since then. With your fitness and your natural science grades. You may go, Ms Lileghom, have a nice holiday’.

She looked at the provost who nodded and showed her the door. ‘What the fuck?!’ she murmured going down the stairs.

All her friends were saying similar stories apart from some who admitted saying stupid things, like Verlar, who declared wanting to become a Crime Officer or something like that. Yes, the hook-nose exam has always been rumoured to be the easiest but the strangest in all the six years.

#

Now, in the autumn sun, the former students were standing in front of the long table put on the wooden platform in the main place. The graduation ceremony was joint with the new academic year opening. After the names and allocations of the graduates will have been called, the freshmen will march in front of the table while the graduates will salute and walk at the back to wait till the end of the inauguration.

The rectoress was announcing the sections and calling the names of students designated to serve in these from now on: Crime and Conflicts, Infantry, Naval... The silence was so tense it was almost audible. The person whose name had been called was stepping out approaching the provost and taking the nomination. Everybody was hoping to hear their names at the right time. Kyeta Asdraghom was called up with the Infantry, she gave a sigh of relief just before stepping out. Ottaine’s name was not called.

‘And now Naval,’ she heard the rectoress announcing. Ottaine froze. She heard Kyeta next to her hissing. The best friend is always the best. Naval – her second choice – had only three names. The last one was Verlar Vorgeghom, who was given two sheets of paper. That wasn’t surprising since everybody knew that Verlar Vorgeghom was to be the next Dragon Tamer. Ottaine’s name was not there. So Civilian it is. That’s a bit disappointing... Yet who knows, maybe she will thrill in the service? She must stay positive. But then the last name was called and the provost announced the end of the ceremony. What is going on? She looked at her friends silently asking ‘where was I?’

‘Did you hear my name? Kyeta, did you hear my name?’ she was whispering when marching to the back of the assembly.

‘Don’t panic, it’s easy to omit a name or two in the chaos’, Verlar was trying to calm her down.

‘I’m sure you’re not the only one they forgot to call’, Kyeta joined him.

It was the longest gathering in Ota’s life. She would remember this morning for years to come as the most excruciating wait. The speeches could not end, the national anthem had too many stanzas and the sun was too hot. Finally, it was over and the crowd started to disperse. Ottaine decided to come to the provost as soon as possible but before she did it one of the deans came near and said to her ear:

‘Ms Lileghom, come to the provost office in half an hour. And don’t worry, you have graduated but there’s something we need to discuss with you.’

The students came back to the lecture rooms and the new graduates started separating into smaller groups. The warehouse was busy with people already returning their undergraduate’s uniforms and discussing the schedules for the next few days. Some were to depart the next day, like Infantry, some the day after, like Tactics. The cheerful and joyous atmosphere was filling the air and the corridors and the charivari was annoyingly unavoidable. Ottaine walked the empty staircase in the rectorate. The door on the top floor was closed so she knocked.

‘Come in!’, she heard a female voice. The provost was smiling from behind her desk.

‘Please, ms Lileghom, come this way. Professor Greghom is awaiting you.’ and she pointed to the joint office’s door on the left.’

Ottaine, perplexed, came through the door. Greghom was standing in the official Special Forces coat and seemed very pleased. She has never seen him smiling with all his face, even the forehead seemed to bear a joyous curve and he didn’t look at his mid-fifties but at least a decade younger.

‘Good morning!’ he cried, shaking her hand, ‘please, please, sit down Ms Lileghom.’ He offered her an armchair by the window, he shifted another one for himself and sat opposite her crossing his legs.

‘Are you surprised?’ he asked.

‘Hmm?’

‘You haven’t been overlooked when we were making the list of graduates. Ms provost and I decided it would be better to avoid ballyhoo and give you your nomination in private. Here it is,’ he reached for a paper laying on a small table and handed it to her. Ottaine saw her name and the ‘Special Forces’ calligraphed caption. Of course, she expected that since she heard Greghom’s name a few minutes ago, however it didn’t change the shock the written letters gave her.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

‘How... I never expected...’ she stammered.

‘Oh, no one ever expects. I was surprised years ago, just like you. Now, I will try and explain everything, or rather as much as I can at the moment. Some things are a secret and they will be explained to you in the Domicile. Before I go on, I must ask you to keep most of today's talk to yourself.’

Ottaine nodded and Greghom continued:

‘You know Ms... hold on, let me start with something else. The Special Forces are not typical soldiers. We are officially part of the Royal Army, we answer before the king and outside we have our ranks and hierarchy. But inside we do not hold to that. Here, in the Academy, I am an officer and a lecturer with the ‘professor’ title. Among other essudi, there are no ranks and grades. Our relations are civilian, if not familial. We prefer using names then titles. You, Ms Lileghom are not my student anymore so if you don’t mind I will call you by your given name. Mine is Verlar Greghom, please choose one,’ he said with an encouraging smile. ‘Don’t look at the age gap. Of course, if it makes you uncomfortable we can keep with the previous forms. Hm?’

‘Ekhm... you can call me by my given name. But I will find it difficult to change the habit. Apart from the fact that you have been my teacher for the past six years, my good friend’s name is Verlar too. So... that would be a bit strange for me...’

‘Oh yes, that krools tamer star, a navy boy. I remember, you and him and that fair hair white face girl caused some trouble in your first year!’ Greghom laughed.

‘Yes, that’s him. So… may I call you ‘Mister Greghom’... for now?’.

‘By all means! All right, let us continue, Ottaine. You must already know that being an essudus is congenital. For a yet unexplained reason, every essudus that ever lived was a soldier hence essudi are searched from among Military Academies’ students. You will ‘transform’, as to say, after some time in the Domicile. For now, I will skip the details. All I can tell you right now is that some characteristics exhibit in every person born with that feature. Maybe you have already figured it out that the last exam, the one called a hook-nose, is in fact a test performed by essudi to find Special Forces’ candidates?’

Ottaine didn’t think of it until now. Indeed it was so obvious she felt pretty stupid not to ponder about the exam as something as simple as that. For heavens, during the final exam, it was Greghom doing most of the talking! And everybody who left the room was saying things like ‘Greghom was asking me stupid questions’, ‘why did I tell Greghom something that wasn’t entirely true’, ‘Greghom was being strange’... now it was all clear. Ottaine was now so curious she leaned forward on her chair.

‘What I’m about to say now is a secret’, Verlar Greghom stopped smiling and his face was once again serious and focused. ‘When you meet your friends you can tell them that the last exam is used to finding essudi but don’t give them any, ANY, details.’

‘Yes, sir!’. Greghom opened his mouth to protest against ‘sir’ but just then decided it’s unnecessary. She needs time to get used to her new role. So he continued:

‘One of the most prominent features of an essudus is our ‘mind control’. It’s not telepathy, not control over somebody’s whole soul (or however you wish to call it). Our brains can produce certain waves while we talk and at the same time think about what we talk… if that makes sense to you. We can make people do things, say things, change their opinions for a moment. You can’t do it yet, but you will in probably less than a year. It will come to you naturally, you will know how to use this part of your mind. You need to articulate it, only when you talk these waves can be activated, it’s strongly connected to speech. The waves will interact with other people’s brains and do the hocus-pocus.’

Ottaine giggled.

‘Well, to be honest I’m not a specialist in neuroscience, for me it’s a hocus-pocus. Maybe our ancestors could explain it better, but as you know the old knowledge and civilization are gone. But let’s focus on the presence. So in short, it’s about brain waves that essudi can produce. In return, essudi are completely immune to such manipulations. In other words, no one can break your will. In the Domicile you will practice such influence on others. Yes, we do have volunteers working for us in our home base since you won’t be able to practice on fellow essudi.’ He explained seeing Ottaine’s surprised look when he mentioned practising.

‘I know you ask yourself, why then Special Forces are not manipulating animals, why do people have to train dragons instead of telling them to do things?’

‘Because they are animals?’ Ottaine guessed, and guessed right.

‘Correct.’ he said but knew she would probably try it anyway. On a dog, a horse, a cat. Everybody tries.

‘For now, let me just stress one important thing’, he continued. ‘The mind control is legal in a very narrow range. One of the first things you will learn is the law that restricts our ‘powers’. Anyway, let’s continue. Ekhm... would you like a glass of water? I will have one.’

‘No, thank you Mr Greghom.’ she said and thought: If I have one I will be looking for a toilet in ten minutes.

‘This is exactly what’s being tested during the meeting,’ he continued after a few moments. ‘Do you remember the exam? First a couple of simple questions. I am curious now, did you notice anything strange? Out of pattern? Something that surprised you?’

Ottaine reflected for a moment. When she knew everything Greghom said that day had a reason, she looked at the memory in a different light. She remembered the moment Greghom stood up looking her in the eyes and the rest of the committee was sitting tense and silent.

‘I... I am now wondering about... when you were standing and asking me all those questions, looking at me so intensely... and Ms Snegall seemed scared? It was so quiet. Nobody was shifting papers, coughing... moving. There was a moment I was wondering if you are controlling my mind!

‘Yes. I was trying, very hard.’ Greghom took a sip from his glass. ‘And because I failed, I remember every question and every answer. Just before I started asking you questions I sent to your brain an order to confirm everything I’m saying. When I said ‘from the very beginning, you were considering Infantry your preferred choice’ you were supposed to reply ‘Oh yes, I did’ - Greghom said in a funny high pitched voice – and after a moment reflect and said ‘Ummm... maybe not really, actually no, sir’ - Ottaine couldn’t hold it and laughed at the perfect imitation of her own voice – but you said ‘No’.

‘I remember. And you frowned when I said that.’

‘That’s when I increased my influence on you. After you left the room I had to ask for ten minutes break! Even when your answer to my questions was a confirmation it wouldn’t be an obedient ‘yes’, it was ‘yes, because of this or that’ which is not the same as agreeing with whatever I implied. Yet I had to be absolutely sure. So as the last resort I ordered you to repeat my words: ‘I am nervous and hungry’ or something other equally stupid (I always do that to every student to make sure I haven’t missed anything). You must forgive me, I was exhausted and that was the first thing that came to my mind. I was tired and hungry. There was no way you would say anything else than ‘I am tired and hungry’ unless you were like me. Only another essudus could ignore the kind of order I gave your mind.’ Greghom reflected for a moment drinking his water and looking at the window.

‘Oh, one more thing,’ he remembered suddenly, ‘you might not recall such detail but during our talk many times you averted your eyes from me. You were looking at other people, at your shoes, at the wall behind me, at the buttons on my coat. My inability to capture your sight, tie up your eyes to mine was very meaningful. Oh, Ottaine, I am so pleased! I haven’t seen another essudus for too many years! Forgive me my excitement, this is the good news I’ve had for a very long time... the more of us the better the country stands. I have a lot of faith in all the young people who have graduated recently from this Academy. Talented and brilliant brave men and women, one very good Tamer who will help with the country’s stock of krools, and an essudus.’

Indeed he looked so happy Ottaine had no doubt that her sole existence is the source of joy for this secretive man, and the thought pleased her too.

‘What do you want to know? Now is the time to feed your curiosity.’ Ottaine thought about all her questions for a moment. Indeed, she was very curious. Some questions could wait but not all of them! There is so much she will talk to Kyeta and Verlar about.

‘Did the rest know? I mean the examiners?’

‘They know the exam is for essudi to perform tests. They don’t know what the test is about. They were under my influence too’.

‘That’s why they were so silent, kind of withdrawn...’ Ottaine remembered.

‘They don’t see the difference between your answers and every other student’s. If they were not under my... suggestion, they would guess what I’m looking for.’

‘Is it difficult to hold so many people’s minds and control the one that enters the room? ‘Yes,’ Greghom said shortly, ‘you will have intensive training, and years to practice before you can do that. You might never master that art, that’s why not every essudus can work in an academy. It’s not easy and sometimes all you need to have is talent. Or rather a sheer will. You will learn everything about it in the Domicile’.

‘Why is it a secret? Why don’t the teachers, the provost at least, know?’

‘It’s a simple matter of precaution. If they knew they would interfere, they would fight my influence (yes, it’s possible, the best results you achieve on minds of people who don’t expect anything), mind control is not something essudi use very often and if people knew what’s coming they would subconsciously resist. The rule has been made to make it obscure just in case.’

‘And nobody figured it out?’

‘Honestly? I am sure they have and the rule is silly. But it’s like a game everybody plays. That’s... politics. Everybody knows and everybody pretends they don’t. Like with the recent conflict on the continent: Landhapis and Skey-Er will diplomatically deny any preparations for the armed conflict, use ‘protection of our border communities’ excuse while we all know they are preparing for a proper war over gods-know-what excuse this time.’ He squeezed his glass very hard and the fingers on his left hand tightened into a fist. ‘But enough of international conflicts. That wasn’t your question. You see how important it is to keep this little secret a secret, so this is another thing you are not allowed to talk about outside this room. All right? Any other questions?’

‘Not at the very moment, but I’m sure I will have plenty.’

‘I understand. Some of them will be answered in the Domicile. We are going the day after tomorrow at around ten in the morning. You will wear your civil clothes, the new uniform will be given to you on the premises. If you need me, you have any questions, find me.’ He stood up smiling, moving towards the door.

‘Mr Greghom, how long will I stay in the Domicile?’

‘Two years, as it is with any other force. After the first year, you will be fully transformed. The second year will be further training. After that – we will see. In this situation, with Landhapis... no one can predict what’s next.’

‘I see,’ she replied, not sure what is so special about another conflict between Landhapis and Skey-Er. ‘So... I have a day to say goodbye to my friends.’

‘As they have to you. That’s life, my dear’.

#

Ottaine left the building and walked across the sun-bathed court filled with people parading in brand new shining uniforms. Blue navy simple two-sets, earth-with-grass camo patterned dresses with dozens of pockets for Infantry. Some freshies gathered in groups looked at them with awe, just like she was six years ago with Kyeta by her side, choosing which one is sexier. Ota remembered there was not a single Special, or anybody wearing civilian clothes. That’s right, she was indeed the first one in a good few years.

She spotted her friends sitting on a blanket like they were having a picnic in a park. Verlar looked gorgeous in his new navy suit. How come Kyeta, so keen to hanker after every good looking boy didn’t fall in love with their friend? Especially with the way Verlar has been looking at Kyeta the past three years... Oh yes, Ota thought, Kyeta liked her men for a short period, for sport. She would never go after a guy who was ‘something for long-term material’ and that was Verlar. A bit shy, always holding on to his principles and very loyal. Apart from that, Kyeta told her many times her father made it very clear he wanted his daughter to prolong the rare elvish blood. Kyeta didn’t share his ‘pure blood’ ideas but not agreeing with your father is one thing and acting against him is another. All put together, she didn’t want to waste time dating someone she would have to fight for with her family. She didn’t crave a deep relationship, she craved the casual ones. Actually, Kyeta once suggested, about two and half years ago, that Ottaine should go out with Verlar. ‘You are both rather quiet, both restrained when it comes to love, you should try it together’ but Ottaine only walked away. She liked Verlar but not ’like this’ and she knew his little blue-eyed secret. Now all were sitting across the lawn. Handsome Verlar, his mate Sined selected to Conflict and Crime, and Kyeta, all in new shining uniforms, laughing and sharing ginger ale. Ottaine passed them from a distance, went to her abandoned dormitory to change into simple blue trousers and grey top. She then went to the warehouse where she left her school uniforms.

‘Hey, Ota, that’s a touchy moment, isn’t it?’ someone asked. Ottaine saw her roommate in bottle-green Conflicts and Crime dress.

‘Hi, Yaru. Yes, a tear in the eye when you say goodbye to your smelly rags.’

‘Where are you? You wanted Infantry, right?’

‘Yes. I mean no. I wanted it but I’m somewhere else. Sorry, have to go.’ Ottaine started to move toward the door but Yaru stopped her.

‘No! Wait a moment! You’re not in the Inf? You don’t have your uni? You look nervous but happy. Oooooh shiiiiit! Hoooly shit! Ok, ok, don’t shush me. Lips on a padlock. Wow, congrats! See ya, must go. Oh, meeting with girls in the Released Peacock at six. You and Kyeta are coming.’

Oh yes, so now the casual meeting in the nearest pub will be a bit awkward. ‘Ah, to hell with that, I’m coming,’ she said to herself.

#

Kyeta noticed Ottaine leaving the tower and then walking past them avoiding eye contact. She didn’t say anything to her friends. She worried what could happen, what did her best friend hear? She had no doubt Ota has graduated. Knowing her for six years, studying together, seeing her passing all the exams, watching her getting better and better, if Ota was not an officer nobody could be. Kyeta had a few suspicions but was patiently waiting. The fact that she didn’t come straight to her friends chilling on the lawn worried Kyeta. Was it something from home? Some bad news? No, it could not interfere with the graduation ceremony. She just would be told after. The only thought that was coming back to Kyeata’s mind was that her friend was given some special task. Special.

She exhaled quietly with relief when Ota reappeared after a few minutes wearing her civilian clothes, walking towards them. She looked just a little bit tense but her eyes were smiling.

‘So. Is everything alright?’ Everybody stopped talking when Kyeta asked the question.

‘Yes, everything is fine,’ she said, taking the bottle from Verlar’s hands. ‘I was not overlooked, just as you said. They didn’t call me because, well, anyway, everything has been sorted out now. I’m going away the day after tomorrow.’

‘You are not in the Infantry. They are leaving tomorrow afternoon,’ stated Verlar.

‘No, I’m not,’ she admitted briefly.

Kyeta’s suspicions seemed to start confirming and she focused on not jumping with arousing excitement. She loved this girl so much! She had to admit in her heart it was making her a little bit jealous. The attention Ota was about to draw, this shy girl. If that’s the matter - she thought with amusement at the conclusion her mind was making - I will need to work my own way to attention and admiration. I truly love being loved, haha.

‘Sorry to hear that,’ Verlar’s voice interrupted her silent monologue. ‘That’s what you wanted. But look. Sined didn’t get what he wanted either! He chose Navy and now he’s as happy as a tris on the unmown lawn,’ Verlar mentioned his mate now sitting not far away with a mixed group of grey-suits people.

‘Infantry and Naval are going away tomorrow too. Not sure about the Crimes... are you there, Ota?’ Kyeta said just for formality already knowing the answer.

‘No, I’m not.’

‘Are you sure you’re off the morning after?’ Verlar kept digging.

‘Yes, I am’ Ota answered and lowered her eyes. She is embarrassed, my dear thing! Kyeta realised.

‘Where’s your uniform?’ asked Verlar.

‘I don’t have it yet. They will give in the premises’.

After o moment of silence Kyeta said to finally get to the point:

‘And you are not in the Civilian? You can’t be. They leave tomorrow at noon. And you are nothing like a Civilian. You are too psychopathic.’

‘Awww, thanks Kyeta, that was sweet. No, I’m not the future firefighter.’

‘Why were you called to see the provost?’ Verlar asked his friend.

‘It wasn’t the provost who wanted to see me. It was Greghom.’

‘Right.’ said both of them at the same time. Kyeta exchanged looks with Verlar and to her surprise she saw that he too had been expecting this all the time.

‘Yep. You can’t even imagine how surprised I was!’

‘Oh, we can,’ they said, looking at each other.

‘Ok, tell us everything and don’t make us ask twice!’ Verlar said, moving close to Ota. ‘Kyeta, you don’t interrupt. Ota, you entered that building... and?’

And so Ottaine told them everything, just as Verlar asked. Kyeta managed not to interrupt. When Ota finished, there were still many questions.

‘So how did they realise you’re an essudus?’ asked Verlar.

‘They did not, Greghom did. Essudi have their own methods but I can’t tell you what they are, I am not allowed. All I can tell you is that when he told me I was really surprised. Oh, I forgot about the most important thing! Guess what Greghom’s first name is?’

#

When the sun turned the sky orange, the girls walked together towards ‘Released Peacock’, a pub in the nearby village frequently visited by the Academy students and staff. Most of the others were already there, all in their civil clothes as this was an unofficial gathering during which a lot of things could happen. Things that a Solummger Army uniform should not witness. Yaru kept her promise and didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to, during the first round of pints and glasses of wine, when everybody was asking each other ‘where are you,’ they quickly figured out Ottaine is nowhere, leaving only one option left.

When the memories of the best times were shared, songs were sung, and money was spent they split into smaller groups. Kyeta and Ottaine took a small table outside and looking at the silver path of stars talked for the last time before the at least two years long gap.

‘I’ve had so much fun in these walls,’ said the blonde friend looking at the distant buildings. ‘Funny how at the end you remember only the good things. Don’t you?’

‘Oh yes, and the bad ones turned out working for good if you know what I mean.’

‘Pain into strength, stress into comfort, humility into self-esteem, I could go on and on.’ They sipped from their glasses smiling at the dark sky, then Kyeta said: ‘And all the boys.’

Ottaine laughed and tapped her friend on the shoulder.

‘Yes, you had that too.’

‘You know who was the best?’ Kyeta asked.

‘Who?’

‘I can’t even tell!’ she giggled.

‘Tell me, Kyeta, did you ever fall for anyone in particular?’

‘No, I never looked for that. There were some I cared about more, some were just for one time, every time I tried to make sure they knew it might not last.’

‘I know. If not, you would have too many enemies right now. Come on, tell me. How many in the six years?’

‘I never counted. More than ten, less than twenty for sure.’

‘I must ask you. Do you know that Verlar...’

‘I do, Ota. And that’s why it will never happen. He’s good, handsome, well-built and so fucking smart. I respect him and like him almost as much as I like you. That’s why I don’t want to have him. It would not last...’

‘How can you know that?’

‘Alright, maybe I don’t know. But it would take a lot of effort. We don’t laugh at the same things, we don’t expect the same from the future... no, it would not be easy.’

‘Maybe he would be glad to have you once? How do you know he wouldn’t?’

‘I wouldn’t want to. I don’t care if he would like to fuck me tonight and finally get me. It’s me who doesn't want that because he’s more than a... tasty meal. But how about you?’

‘What? With him?’

‘With anybody. Have you ever fallen for someone?’

‘No, you know I haven’t. My heart is made of stone.’

‘It’s not, you just haven’t met the right one.’

‘No, there’s a stone inside. I never loved anyone.’

‘Don’t you love your parents? You little brother Dezin? Me, your friend?’

‘Of course I do but that’s different!’

‘Different kind of love, yes, but still love. You are not unable to feel. You just haven’t fallen for a man yet. And... how about... you know. Going physical? Don’t you want to do it? Know how it is?’

‘Ah, you know, I do and I don't at the same time. I am curious and at the same time to think of it...’ she flinched.

‘Yep. You haven’t met the right one,’ that was Kyeta’s diagnosis.

‘What if I never do?’

‘Come on girl, you are twenty-five. All life in front of you!’

‘My parents were married at this age.’

‘And my great-aunt married at fifty-two. She never had children and had a good and meaningful life.’

‘I don’t want to wait till fifty!’

‘My great-aunt was always saying: better later than wrong. I’d add: better never than wrong.’

‘And die as a virgin.’

‘Hey, I never said that. But even if... so what?’

‘Easy for you to say. That’s a long time behind you, my dear,’ said Ottaine bitterly.

‘Are you going to listen to yourself or society? Which one knows better? Fuck society, fuck standards. I will always love you my friend, whatever you do or not do. And I still claim you just never met the right one.’

They finished their wine and ale, then another two, and headed back to the old walls.

#

The next day Verlar and Kyeta, accompanied by most of the graduates, left the Southern Military Academy. Saying goodbye to Kyeta was the hardest. The person she relied on for six years, shared every secret with, understood without words. They knew they will see each other again, during next summer, after two years, somewhere somehow. They knew they would write each other long letters with more secrets and with everyday insipid routines and right now they were crying like kids.

Verlar was the last to leave with the group of Navy, blue-dressed young people. He was to take a standard two-year training with an individual program and meantime study dragons under the tutelage of army dragon-keepers and tamers. His paper ‘How to Train Your Teenage Krool Dragon’ has already given him esteem and fame among the Solummgerian vets and breeders. He was not hiding his happiness over returning to his beloved sea and for him saying farewells were not filled with tears but hope and excitement. After all, this was the moment they had been working on for years and the dreams now come true. More wonders life is surely going to bring and the future's so bright that it blinds. Verlar’s positive mood was fuelled by a brief and unwitnessed moment when he was saying goodbye to Kyeta. She whispered something to his ear, he looked at her astonished and then they smiled and hugged each other tightly.