I wonder if the grass is of a different breed here, or if Steel simply wills it to be so rough. Either way, it does not suit me at all! I miss the groves of Velvet back in Kerska. The grass was much softer there, and the priestesses were a lot less boring than the Marshal of Avernia, High Priest of Steel. From what I’ve been told he is second in authority only to His Majesty, the High King of Avernia himself, and yet someone so important is stuck in an uncomfortable grove, shouting dull scripture at teenagers. The mainland is such a strange place, I don’t know why my brother had been so enthusiastic to leave home for here.

"This Grove shall be your primary place of worship during your tenure at the military academy! Whatever God you held most dearly before will simply have to leave your thoughts; you belong to Steel now!"

It always seems odd to me that the Gods would feel the need to compete over people's lives, that they would feel so possessive of their mortal supplicants. After all, surely the human heart is big enough for at least five, right? Admittedly the five of them didn’t precisely have equal weight in my heart, there are some gods I happen to like more than others, and some I think could perhaps have made better impressions... This sermon is boring and this grove is uncomfortable, but at least compared to a troll attack it isn't a bad first time meeting Steel.

"You belong to the royal family, of course, but as the royal family belongs to Steel, you all belong to Steel as well! This is the privilege of the highborn, and due to the infinite mercy of Her Grace the Queen, the privilege of even... Commonfolk witches."

He seems to choke on the word 'commonfolk', though it wasn't as if my father hadn't done the same when he learned I'd made friends with stable hands and miller's daughters in the Groves of Velvet. I remember his sheer disappointment in me when I cried at Pierre's funeral... I remember it well. And then I remember the reason I came here. I was blessed, blessed to be a witch, blessed to join the army... Blessed to escape a future married to some man whose parents were always going to be more important than him. Blessed to escape the lot of the ‘Highborn’.

"Her Grace does of course have the right to rescind her invitation to you, should you fail to meet expectations. Work hard at your studies and your training, Her Grace is always watching!"

Her Grace... She was much the same as me, wasn't she? A lonely girl, expected to marry some man she's never met because of who his parents were... No one rescued her, did they... Maybe she was trying to rescue us.

"Now! You may be wondering why you were invited deep into the Great Grove of Steel on your first day of lessons on our grand academy-"

I hope I might meet her one day, so I might thank her properly for giving me the chance she never got... While I should repay her kindness by paying attention to the important, shouting man in the middle of the grove, I find it almost impossible to stop my eyes from sliding off him, and my thoughts retreating inwards.

"And you may be wondering why we issued swords to you all immediately upon your arrival-" I try my best, but nothing more would penetrate my skull, nothing else could- KITTY?!

A beautiful orange feline walks cautiously into the grove, treading trepidatiously as though it were unfamiliar territory. I wonder if perhaps the kitten too didn't care much for the grass in the grove of Steel. It’s enough to make my heart melt, my eyes are drawn to her in an instant and stay entirely put, even as heavy religious scripture bounces off my head. If I had to pick what I miss most about home in Kerska, it’s the 'cat infestation' that all the grown-ups seemed so upset about. I never understood why they were so upset, cats are amazing! They're sleek and graceful and fun to chase, having 'too many' seemed like a contradiction of terms. It'd be like saying one had too many... Well, cats! The kitty attempted to climb one of the trees, but I know from experience that the trees priests make groves out of are very hard to climb for cats and humans alike. It soon slips and falls down, landing on its little feet, shaking its little head. So cute!

"MADEMOISELLE POLLINEUX!"

... That’s me, isn't it? I’m not ‘Serena’ here, I am ‘Mademoiselle Pollineux’ … I turn my head to face the shouty, metal-clad man. I must've missed something that someone thought was important.

"Y... Yes, Marshal?"

"Just because your brother is who he is does not mean you have the right to daydream in the grove of the King of all the gods!"

"I... I wasn't though-"

I stop myself, that's a complete lie from me and an obvious one too. I don't even know why it graced my lips, it simply occurred to me to lie to the High Priest of 'shouting at bored teenagers'.

"Oh? You weren't? You were paying perfect attention then?" The Marshal, taking a break from being boring, decides to instead be a little sinister, continuing on before I can explain that I was in fact completely ignoring him. "Then I suppose you would not mind going first, would you, Pollineux?"

Oh. I am being punished. The other students' eyes are all on me, which seems odd given there continues to be an adorable cat that their eyes could be on instead. Still, I get to my feet and bow to the Marshal, ready to have the thing I should already know explained to me.

"Yes, Marshal."

"Very good. Draw your sword, get into the ring."

... I had clearly missed something important. Damn that cat for being just so cute and interesting! No, this wasn't the cat's fault… Damn that Marshal, for being just so dry and boring! I do as I am commanded, preparing myself for a painful humiliation. I am not unfamiliar with swordplay; brother Antoine often took to beating his littlest sister in 'contests of arms' after the rest of our siblings stopped playing with him entirely... I can't say I've ever won any of our duels, but at least I had lost to a master, and occasionally even lost well. I expect the Marshal to enter the ring himself, to teach me a lesson in manners, in what was and was not interesting…

"Call in 91271!"

And with that order an emaciated man with a chipped and dull sword in his hand is forced into the ring across from me, two guards aiming muskets at him. The man is barely clothed, he looks as if he had been neglected and starved for days, maybe even weeks. He can barely carry that sword in his hand... I clearly missed something very, very important.

"Steel is merciful and gracious to us, the future officers of His Majesty's Loyal Army. To that end, we must show our gratitude, through sacrifice! This man was a thief, he stole a great many things from the people of Avernia, by all rights he should be locked away and forgotten. But Steel sees the value in such men and offers them a second chance. A trial by combat. Mademoiselle Pollineux, this man will attempt to kill you today, to sacrifice you to Steel and earn his freedom."

With a shaky hand I draw my sword, fine steel, newly made and lovingly sharpened... It has never killed anyone before. Which makes it something of a companion for me in this moment.

"Sacrifice him first! Only then will Steel recognise you as one worthy of our tutelage here. Only then will you have the honor of serving our king!"

Honor... That was the word Antoine so loved. The word that brought him to the mainland, the word that brought him to this very academy years ago. My brother... He did this as well, didn't he?

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The emaciated man was not going to wait for my personal crisis to lessen, he charged with an energy that I would not expect from someone so abused and neglected. He swung at me, and I parried easily. Even if this man could muster the will to kill me, he clearly lacked the ability, it was exactly the kind of swing I made at my brother during our first bouts... This man looked twice my age, maybe older, and yet this was like fighting a past version of myself. This will be easy, and somehow that is no comfort at all. He seems surprised to have his swing so easily deflected, and tries for another vicious, utterly inept slash. I don't even need to parry; I simply stand aside and allow his blade to taste the rough grass beneath our feet. At this rate I can easily just exhaust him, he’s already breathing heavily with the exertion.

"What are you waiting for, Mademoiselle Pollineux?! Steel is a hungry god, and not especially patient!"

This man is hungry too... And not especially patient, trying to lift his sword from the ground to catch me on the upswing. A stupid move, one that nobody who had ever held a sword before would attempt. This is the move of someone who thinks that swords just touch people and make them die, there is no real force behind it. I kick the sword away and watch my assailant lose his balance and fall, hitting the very uncomfortable grass with a dull thud.

This isn't just an opening, this was a victory, I’ve won. Now I merely have to... Finish it. My hand shakes. This will be something I can't take back. Velvet never demanded this of me... Did she? Perhaps this is simply what being a grown-up is, but... I don't think I want to be one. Not like this... But the rest of my life now waits at the end of my sword, my ticket away from my fate as a young woman in La’anian politics. Away from 'highborn' and 'commonfolk', to follow in my brother's footsteps… So why can't my arm do it?

"You are to be an officer in His Majesty’s army! Such hesitation will see you die, Mademoiselle Pollineux!"

His manic chanting slips away from me again in this moment, the man on the ground beginning to notice that he has not yet been stabbed. I see his eyes drift to his sword again. That's right, this man is determined to kill me. Hesitation will kill me, mercy will kill me... And thousands more, if I am to lead an army. The enormity of my undertaking is only now starting to dawn on me. How does my brother handle this weight?

"You can do it, Mademoiselle Serena!"

A voice... A sweet and divine voice, one softer than the Marshal's, and yet it overpowers his. It is the only sound in my entire world. My eyes drift to its source... And in an instant, I was in love. It was as if I was staring right at Velvet herself. No... Velvet cannot possibly compare to the beautiful skin, the dulcet tones, the... Divine and radiant form of her body... And those words. Someone this beautiful believes in me. The man attempts to slip away to grab his sword and I return to reality for a moment, ready to do what I must for that divine voice. I stab deeply and harshly into the man's heart, hoping that at least I can give him a clean, easy death…

… I have underestimated the skill required to give a clean, easy death.

I’m certain I feel his futile heartbeat on my sword. He writhes, he screams, he bleeds and bleeds more than I had ever imagined possible, the scent like a cruel parody of the sea spray of Kerska's beaches. I stab again, and again, each stab bringing only more screams when I want nothing more than to see him finally know peace. I make a prayer to Steel under my breath, begging him to please just take this poor man, to stop toying with his food and eat. It takes nine stabs for him to finally bleed his last, for the screams to die down... It feels disgusting, unsatisfying... But I’ve done it. The beautiful figure believed I could, and I did it! ... I have earned my path towards the future... Only then do I notice that every single one of my classmates are bowing towards the figure that has so enraptured my attention, and my affection…

"Show some respect, Mademoiselle Pollineux! That is Her Grace, The Queen!"

I drop my sword and bow in an instant, but not so deeply that I can’t continue to gaze upon her. I hadn't noticed before, but she has a young man beside her. A young man holding that beautiful orange cat from before... Her son, no doubt. The King's doing... That sharp feeling in my gut is something I will have to examine later, when I am not surrounded by my comrade witches, the High Priest of Steel, and THE ACTUAL QUEEN! The Queen gestures for me to rise, and I do so without hesitation. Everything the Marshal needs to scream at me to do, she can have me perform with little more than a motion, a look... I have already killed for her, and as unpleasant as the killing was, the horror is already slipping from my mind as I get a better look at the Queen.

"You have done well, Mademoiselle Pollineux. You have been loyal to your queen, and that is all she will ever ask of you."

... Well, she can ask for more things... She called me Serena before, didn't she? My name, rather than my family’s, my brother's... I wish she would do it again. And again, and again and again and…

"I am not worthy of such praise, your Majesty-" … I am meant to address her as ‘Her Grace’, she is merely a queen consort.

And yet, she is more my 'Majesty' than the High King will ever be. "Now, now, you are in a grove of Steel. Royalty decides the truth here, and this royal has decided you are worthy of my praise. Hold your head up high, Mademoiselle Pollineux."

... She is entirely correct, Steel was the God of Kings as much as the King of Gods, and royals are divine in his groves. She can decide any truth she wants... She can even-

"Exit the ring, Mademoiselle Pollineux! And take your sword with you, it is time for the next sacrifice!"

I hurriedly pick up my sword, take one last lingering glance at the queen, and leave the ring as the soldiers drag away the 'sacrifice' I’d made to Steel... If anything, I made the sacrifice to Her Majesty. Is it perhaps my addled, idiot imagination playing tricks on me, or is she smiling at me as I make my exit? ... That something divine would smile for me… As I watch the other students go about their sacrifices, Her Majesty observing every single one, I try to wipe my blade clean of blood with a handkerchief... And accidentally cut my finger. Not badly enough to lose it, just enough to bleed on the steel and ruin all my efforts. This seems to amuse the Marshal, His Holiness, who stands above me and whispers forcefully.

"You must show Steel proper respect, or this is what happens."

I have perhaps committed a blasphemy, dedicating this sacrifice to Her Majesty instead of Steel, at least within the depths of my own heart... But if this is the worst that will come from it? ... I'll happily bleed for Her Majesty. I'll do anything to see that smile again.

The last of the sacrifices came and went with a final, bloodcurdling scream, another smile from Her Majesty, and another morsel for the King of all the Gods. And the last student returns to where the rest of us sit, awaiting the Marshal's further instructions.

"Alright recruits, rest up! ... You all did well for your first sacrifice! I suggest that you all brush up on your sword practice though, in preparation for next week!"

... Next week? ... We have to do this again?! ... Will her Majesty grace me with her presence again?