Chapter 2: Aster, The Patience of Time
In the center of a humble room, where the only decorations were the lonely windows that radiated a static white light and a bed that was more practical than comforting, was an awkwardly placed desk with a blade on top.
Rosé, to note, stood a few inches away and in deep ponder.
The naked blade, rusted with the passage of time and the lack of proper maintenance, had protected her from the truth that fateful night five years ago.
She may have regretted her decision to kill the priest, but her expressions only showed a stern purpose to press on. Onto the goal that she had promised herself.
“But the idea of suicide before I wither is a tempting one,” Rosé murmured.
Rosé, ostracized from the rest of the military academy due to her connections to the Butcher of Kilinrig, had adopted unorthodox behaviors.
Students thought of the soft murmurings and the perverted smiles that she sometimes did as unexplanatory and a sign of her insanity.
However, students at the military academy were ranked in the class according to abilities (At least for the commoners; nobles had their own military school optional for their children who wanted to join it. Its classes was based on the seniority of their noble rank.). Rosé, who did not disappoint in the academic portion of school standards, rose to be the valedictorian of the senior class.
She had a lot free time, much of which was because she lacked any relationships she could dwindle her time in. Suffice to say, without much of a hobby but a great and fantastic dream of which she adopted from the priest, Rosé was busy with her physical and academic work.
Suffice to say, some who looked at her with disgust would now look at her at disdain.
Rosé paid them no mind. She was not at the military academy to make friends. Rather, her goal for her residence at the military academy was much more sinister than anyone could imagine.
To Rosé, death meant everything for her. Killing was the verb, the tool, that she used to enact her wishes.
The military academy, connected to the military, naturally was the leaping stone to joining the armed forces as a commanding officer. If one were to do well, a suitable position would be given in the military. Meritocracy was important in the Kingdom of Linus. If not, the kingdom would have fallen centuries ago by other countries that also adopted systems of reward and returns.
Such a system was a blessing to Rosé. If she had lived in the era of noble commanders, she would have likely been one of the mindless hordes that incompetent leaders forced to charge against enemy lines in the hopes that divine intervention would save them.
For her, Rosé could use her current standing for so much more.
Rosé put her rusted dagger down. There were more important matters to attend to.
***
“Welcome, graduating class of 66’ to your final day in Military Academy.”
An old bearded man stood in front of the mass of students. He had a groomed beard, white with the wisdom of his years. His wrinkled face, streaked with a long vertical scar that ran down his left eye eluded his past. It likely came to one of the few wars that Linus had fought in the years prior. As headmaster of a military academy, it was an obvious requirement to have served in the military during a period of war if there was any.
The way he spoke, though, alluded to a possible past as a bigshot. Likely a general or at least a major or colonel.
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To most of the prideful students in the audience, his normally boring speech, conventional by all means, was one fraught with emotions.
“It has been an entertaining time with each student contributing something for the greater good. Though I understand that not all will join the military, I have great expectations for you to excel in your own respective fields…”
And he went on and on, much longer than anyone expected him to. But nobody in the crowd was complaining. Some were looking with back at their years in school with nostalgia. Others considered their fruitful lives moving forward. A small fraction of the school population was thinking about their food security once they were released from the spoons of the Military Academy.
But all was content.
As the headmaster finished all his congratulatory callouts and appreciations, Rosé readied herself.
The top of the class, the best of the best, sat behind the headmaster during the speech. For the headmaster, he turned around after finishing his monotone speech signaling Rosé to come to the podium.
Turning back, he started anew with an introduction.
“Now,” the headmaster began. “Please welcome the valedictorian of the class of 66’, Rosé of Kilinrig.”
The old man gave a short bow before exiting the stage. A sea of applause accompanied his departure.
Which was then replaced by a frosty reception.
The red haired girl walked up on stage. Her complexion and beauty have become the envy of the school. Pale white skin admired by all her peers. A muscular but thin body that the men in crowd would love hold. ‘A face of a beauty and a body to match’ was the description the student body would give if anyone requested information on her.
‘But a mismatched personality’, they would continue.
She rarely attended any school events nor school itself when her grades demanded it. If you could not find her in school, she was likely in the library or training around.
These traits, hallmarks of a studious student, was enough to warrant an ‘ignore’ label on her.
The rumors and the mysterious sources of information that degraded her were what generated a much more stronger response from the student populace.
“Haven’t you heard, she’s the daughter of the Butcher of Kilinrig.” “No, I heard that she sold herself to an old man.” “She definitely prays to a false god. She’s a heretic!” “I don’t think you know, but that woman killed five men barehanded without reason.” “Guys, keep this a secret, but that crazy woman sleeps next to bleached skeletons of dead warriors every night.”
There were both truths and falsehoods mixed. Rosé, who did not bother to confirm nor deny, were naturally attached with such labels. All of them.
But rumors remain as rumors. Maybe truthfully, having so much circulating around the school dulled the seriousness of each revelation.
However, she received a wide swab of accusations, ranging from the mundane to the insane. It was certain that she was quite disliked within the student population. All students looked at Rosé was disdainful eyes. In return, she received them with unfocused and cloudy eyes.
The living were not worth her attention. Though they had the potential to become beautiful, for her to achieve her plan, Rosé had to regulate herself within the moral code of a forsaken society.
It was the first step of her plan. She had to please others so they would let her do whatever she wished. Or at least kill as many people as possible, likely from an unfortunate nation in nearby vicinity.
Though Rosé was not much of crowd rallier, she gave a proper speech fit for a valedictorian
***
“Here is your first post, Captain.”
The closing ceremony had wrapped up without problems, and people exited the venue with new lives. Some went back home with an education for their employment. Others, like Rosé, chose a path in the military; it was a small proportion of the graduating class partly because being a soldier was not the most glamorous job and because the number of officer positions were limited to the top of the class.
In front of Rosé was a senior who graduated years ago. However, he seemed much kinder than the other students, partly because he had to deal with the problems of being too intelligent.
“Rosé, I know you're one of the most brilliant people produced by the military academy. I have no problems with giving you this challenging position,” said Major Franz.
He passed a folder on his desk to Rosé.
“In that folder is your job description and a permit to learn magic. I am well aware that you’re not allowed to learn it unless you're of noble descent or of colonel rank and above, but the general made an exception for your case.”
Rosé picked up the folder.
“That’s all. You’re dismissed, Captain Rosé.”
She gave a salute before exiting the major’s office. In the hallways, she opened the seal of the folder and took out the briefing documents.
“Hmmm, heroes?”
Rosé was deep in thought as she reminisced about the stories of the old. The legend of the heroes that stood against tyrants. The heroes summoned in the great wars. The heroes that saved Linus from downfall multiple times.
With unopposed strength, the heroes were a trump card.
To Rosé, they were something different.
“I can use this.”