Chapter 1

Shuddering with anticipation, I took my first step onto academy grounds. My footfall was heavy, bearing the weight of a new beginning as I passed through the wrought-iron bars of the outer gate. My worn and dust-ridden appearance marked me as an incoming student, a stark contrast to the bright-eyed adults who moved efficiently through the expansive courtyard. Seeing my peers clad in their mismatched travel attire, I strode into the clamor of the growing crowd and was soon assaulted by the stench of exertion—the trademark of a weeklong trek by foot.

Looking back toward the gate, I could see students continuing to trickle in, though it appeared that most of us had already arrived. I knew that I was surrounded by the best and brightest of our generation, but as I looked around, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment. Sure, a few stood out from the crowd, but most seemed... average. Never underestimate your enemy, I chided myself, recalling athe warning from The Myriad Wars, a history book I had ruined through excessive use as a child.

Reading was a rare skill in Meritas, especially if you lived in a rural village as I did. Neither my mother nor father were literate; in fact, the only reason I could read was because of my gift as a Kismet or fated one. These giftings were not unheard of; five to ten percent of the population claimed to be a Kismet. That being said, the number wasn't certain as very few Meritans openly shared such secrets. To some, these gifts were mystical, believed to be blessings from a deity. To others, they were simply random birth traits attributed to luck. I wasn’t sure what to think. My gift was called Mental Mastery, and I, like other Kismet, had discovered it when I turned five, entering a trance-like state that lasted nearly two days. When I woke from the trance, I knew the power intimately. It had become as much a part of me as my hands or my feet. The gift allowed me to process the world faster than an average human. From my perspective, it seemed like I had about six more seconds of thinking every minute than was typical, six more minutes every hour, and just under two and a half hours more per day. In other words, my mind was ten percent quicker than anyone else. I also had an enhanced ability to remember details and learn new things, though that was harder to quantify.

As I was lost in thought, a booming voice cut through the excited chatter, instructing all students to report to the auditorium in two minutes. With little more to my name than the spare change of clothes in my pack, I made my way to the largest of the three buildings with the rest of the crowd. The massive structure was rather unadorned, composed primarily of a sturdy-looking red brick that showed little sign of weathering. I passed through the doorway and found the auditorium to be similarly undecorated, feeling more like a warehouse without chairs nor other anticipated comforts. The room was unnaturally bright, as if the sun was hanging from the ceiling, yet I couldn’t see the source. As we all stood assembled, a tall man in an officer's uniform came to the stage and began speaking, his deep voice magnified through yet another unseen measure. His uniform bore the emblem of Meritas, the visage of relentless struggle—a hand piercing into the heavens and grabbing ahold of something too lofty for man. Whispers of awe spread through the room as I joined my peers in bated breath. We all knew what it meant to bear that emblem; renown forged through battle, recognized by the king himself.

“As you well know, our great country of Meritas was formed when the legendary hero, Daniel the Triumphant, recognized the Aeon empire's corruption and gathered a coalition of the suppressed to liberate territory for themselves. With unwavering courage and determination, Daniel established Meritas and set about to right the wrongs of the empire. He knew that the generational nepotism of the elites had led to incompetence, weakening the nation. The nobles sought to consolidate power, but they traded competence for control.

“To remedy this, Daniel created the Meritas Trials, a country-wide tournament that would determine the nation’s leaders. Daniel and the coalition determined that Meritas would hold this tournament every four years to ensure that only the most competent could rise to power. The Meritas Trials pit citizens against citizens in competitions of might, wisdom, and courage. Every citizen is granted the right to enter the trials and prove their claim to power. Since the founding of Meritas 200 years ago, these central tenets have remained; the mighty will prevail, the wise will rule, and the bold will conquer all. But Daniel knew that giving every citizen the right to enter the trials wouldn’t be enough. In light of the fact that power seeks its own ends, he established the Meritas Military Academy and assigned the lords of the nation to teach the next generation of promising leaders, no matter their heritage. That is why you are here. Each of you has proven your prowess by defeating your peers in the academy trials. You have been granted the privilege to learn from the lords themselves.”

The man paused for a moment, scanning the room before continuing. “Welcome to the Meritas Military Academy. My name is Gerald, and I am the director of personnel development and serve as the dean of this academy. I congratulate each of you on your achievements. It is no small feat to earn entrance to the Meritas Academy. Today, you will be divided into nations. Over the next two years, we will pit you against each other in a simulation of nation-building where you will test your mettle through war games and harsh survival conditions in the surrounding wilderness. Each nation has been allotted a territory ranging twelve square miles. This is where you will live and develop your nation throughout your time at the academy. The majority of you will graduate, primed to be exceptional officer candidates, but you ultimately compete for one coveted prize: apprenticeship to become Knights of the Royal Order.”

My heart raced, and my jaw dropped, no doubt mirroring the awestruck faces of my peers. This was even better than I had hoped. Little was shared with the public about the teaching methods of the nation’s military academy, but everyone knew the results. Now, there was even mention of the revered knights of the Royal Order, offering boundless motivation to climb to the top.

“In just a moment,” Director Gerald continued, “you will receive your nation distinctions, followed by further direction from your assigned instructor.”

The speech took me back to my first day of work, nearly five years ago. I had begged my father to let me help in the kitchen or at least take orders from patrons, but he had firmly denied my requests, stating that one must be in the double digits before they could earn a wage. To bide my time, I had watched my dad closely, looking to gain every insight and leg up I could get in the tavern-minding business. And just like today, when I came of age, he gave me a grand speech to officially welcome me into the ranks.

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Soon a middle-aged woman with a scroll approached me, her sharp eyes sending out a challenge to all who entered her gaze. The intensity of her presence spoke to the hundreds of soldiers she had defeated in battle over her years of service. I know upper-level citizens are rumored to have an air of strength about them, but this… With reverence, I stood, ready to introduce myself.

“Mr. Isaca?” she probed with a surprisingly pleasant voice.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You are to report to nation five, gathering just outside the auditorium, on the left.”

I picked my jaw up off the floor and hurried to join my nation. Stepping through the doors, I looked around; students were gathering in small circles across the courtyard, and I made my way to the few standing near the left wall of the auditorium.

“Is this nation five?” I asked the group.

A woman in a blue and white field uniform responded. She was about my height, roughly five-nine, with dark hair pinned up in a simple bun. Seeing her tidy state made me wonder what impression I was giving off; perhaps my brown hair appeared red from all of the clay dust I had kicked up in my travels.

“Yes, this is nation five. My name is Sophia, and I will be your overseer until further notice.,” she said, offering me a warm but distracted smile.

I deflated when I heard the news; Sophia didn’t seem to be nearly as commanding as the other woman. I nodded my thanks and found a spot to sit against the wall while we waited for the rest of our nation’s members to gather. Minutes later, the dirt beneath me trembled, and I heard the creak of many wooden wheels turning out of sight. The familiar whinny of horses filled the air as long passenger wagons, resembling barrels cut lengthwise, were pulled into the clearing. Each wagon was drawn by a pair of massive black Friesians; they so dwarfed the common breed I was familiar with that I could only assume these were true warhorses. Compared to the lacking indoor amenities, these animals clearly displayed the military’s prowess. Wait… I stood and looked around again, this time refusing to accept my surroundings at face value. There were no trees. In fact, there wasn’t even grass, just dirt. The buildings, the road, everything seemed… new. Too new. Is this actually the academy? I looked up then, catching the smirk on Sophia’s face as she recognized my confusion and offered me a wink.

Without offering any further explanation, Sophia clapped her hands loudly and promptly walked off. Realizing that I was being left behind, I took off after her, joined by several similarly puzzled peers. Across the courtyard, we were led to a wagon and informed that we had a several-hour ride before reaching our territory. Despite its size, the wagon was packed, and I was pressed shoulder-to-shoulder with my peers. To my left, a bulky boy who towered over me by several inches clung to the back of the wagon as if he felt bad about how much room he was taking up. Despite his efforts, I found myself rather squished between him and the blonde girl on my right. With no time for introductions, we were off. The sun beat down on us, a sure sign of the coming summer, though the chill on the occasional breeze spoke of the warring seasons. The dirt road was relatively flat, but the occasional hole had me gripping the side of the cart to stabilize myself.

Sophia turned toward us, handing the reigns to the inconspicuous man next to her. Sitting in the back, near the end of the bench, I was forced to crane my neck and lean forward to see her.

“You will remain in your assigned plot with the exception of participating in classes and war games. There will be no swapping territories, so don’t bother asking.”

I’d expected as much. Looking around, I counted twenty students, including myself, and from what I had heard from the military scribe back at the meeting ground, there were fifteen nations. Someone piped up—a boy with dark hair, sharp features, and a surprisingly intense look on his face.

“What do we have to start with in our territory?”

That was a good question; I quickly committed the boy’s face to memory.

“You begin with nothing,” Sophia replied. “This is how we will see what you are made of.”

That was a sobering thought. Some in our group stirred uncomfortably as reality sank in. We would have to live off of the land. I was excited at the prospect—might as well separate the wheat from the chaff now I thought. The ride soon became quiet, interrupted only by the occasional horse snort. With the energy offered by the initial rush of the meeting ground fading, the lull was welcome, and I began to daydream as I watched the hills roll by.

“Agh!” I gasped in surprise as something hit the side of my head. The girl next to me was rubbing her own head and looking back at me.

“Sorry! I nodded off,” she admitted guiltily.

I offered a slight smile to reassure her. “No worries. I’m impressed that you can sleep with all the new information.” I finally made eye contact with her; she had light blue eyes with a hint of green near her pupils. Her blonde hair stopped just below her shoulders, and I noticed that her arms were nearly as toned as mine. She smiled back, noticing my inspecting gaze.

“What are you looking at?” she asked, her innocent eyes promising mischief. I paused, making full use of the extra time my gift afforded me. This seemed suspiciously similar to one of those lose-lose scenarios my dad had mentioned when I first asked him how to deal with girls.

“I was admiring your eyes,” I replied honestly, sounding more confident than I felt. “beautifully complex colors,” I continued., sounding more confident than I felt. “That, and your rather toned triceps.”

The girl’s curious gaze sparked something in me, and I held my breath until she spoke.

“You can call me Kate,” she replied. I sighed in relief as she flashed me that stunning smile again. I haven’t felt this flustered since that time at the smithy…

“I’m Steven. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Kate.”

We continued chatting for a while. Kate was warm, and easy to talk to, though there was a hesitant manner about her. The rest of the ride passed in relative silence. I learned that the boy who had spoken up earlier was Derek; several peers were peppering him with questions, and he seemed to make pleasantries easily enough. As we rode, and I stared out at the land passing by, I felt a strange sense of loss. I began to become aware of the foreign world I was entering—the new life I was moving toward. Would I recognize myself a year from now? It was a bizarre feeling, riding in that wagon, surrounded by complete strangers who now held the power to affect my destiny. A pit formed in my stomach as wisps of control fled from my grasp. As we reached the top of the hill, the vantage shifted; a vast forest stretched out as far as I could see. I tried to recall details from the entry speech as we neared the edge of the trees. What was it that the dean had said? Then, like a gate into the underworld, we were plunged into darkness as the dense canopy blotted out the sun.

Ah yes. Harsh survival.