The letter confirming my admission to Falmuth Military Academy felt heavy in my hands, though it was a weight I bore with pride. I had passed the rigorous interview process, securing a chance to enter the academy that could reshape my destiny. Yet this triumph was just a step—one piece of the intricate plan I had begun to weave.

**

Packing and Goodbyes

The evening before my departure was heavy with both anticipation and bittersweet emotion. My small room, once cluttered with the tools of a farmer’s son—baskets, simple wooden tools, and stray bundles of dried herbs—was now filled with the few belongings I would take to the capital. My wooden practice sword leaned against the wall, a symbol of the countless hours of preparation I had poured into my training.

I folded my clothes carefully, placing them into the worn leather bag that had belonged to my father, Barid. Every fold felt like a step closer to leaving the life I had known behind. The modest, quiet days on the farm would soon be replaced with rigorous training, politics, and the intrigue of Falmuth Military Academy.

The door creaked open, and I turned to see my mother, Lydia, standing there. Her soft brown eyes were filled with a mix of pride and worry. She carried a small bundle wrapped in cloth.

"I thought you might like some of your favorite dried fruits for the road," she said, stepping into the room.

I smiled and took the bundle from her hands. "Thank you, Mother. I’ll need the energy."

She sat on the edge of my bed, her gaze drifting to the packed bag. "It feels like just yesterday you were running around barefoot in the fields, chasing after chickens. And now, you’re leaving for the capital, to train among nobles and warriors."

Her voice wavered slightly, and I could see the tears threatening to fall.

"I’m still that boy, Mother," I said softly, sitting beside her. "But this is something I have to do. It’s not just for me—it’s for you and Father too."

Lydia took a deep breath and nodded, though her expression didn’t lose its worry. "The capital is a dangerous place, Illiad. People there... they’re not like us. They’ll try to take advantage of you, twist your kindness. You must be careful."

"I will," I promised, my voice firm. "I’ve learned enough to know that kindness must be guarded with strength. I’ll make you and Father proud, no matter what."

She smiled then, though it was tinged with sadness. Reaching out, she brushed a strand of hair from my face, a gesture she’d often done when I was younger.

"You’ve grown so much," she said. "I just wish you didn’t have to grow up so fast."

I didn’t respond, letting the silence speak for me. If only she knew the weight I truly carried—the memories of a lifetime and the burden of vengeance. But for her sake, I could only smile.

The morning of my departure came too quickly. The sun had barely risen, casting a golden light over the fields as the carriage rolled up to our modest home. Barid was waiting by the door, his arms crossed, his expression stoic.

"You’re sure about this?" he asked as I hoisted my bag onto my shoulder.

I nodded. "This is my path, Father."

He clapped a hand on my shoulder, his grip firm. "Then walk it with pride. And don’t forget where you came from."

"I won’t."

Lydia hugged me tightly, her embrace warm and trembling. "Be safe," she whispered, her voice breaking.

"I will," I said, though the words felt hollow. Safety was a luxury I couldn’t afford—not with the plans I had in mind.

As the carriage began to roll away, I leaned out to catch one last glimpse of them standing by the road, their figures growing smaller with every turn of the wheels. My heart ached, but it was a pain I welcomed. It reminded me why I was doing this—not just for myself, but for them.

The stakes had never been higher. For their sake, I would succeed. Failure was not an option.

**

To Qalbargh

The journey to Qalbargh, the kingdom’s sprawling capital, was both a physical and emotional transition. As the carriage bumped along the uneven dirt road, I found myself staring out the window, watching the familiar fields of Werfowl gradually give way to unfamiliar landscapes. The soft rolling hills were replaced by denser patches of forest, and the dirt path widened into a busier, cobblestone route.

The air grew cooler, crisp with the scents of autumn, and the occasional clusters of small villages dotted the horizon. Farmers worked in the fields, children ran barefoot through the grass, and merchants pushed carts laden with goods toward the capital. These sights would normally have filled me with comfort, reminders of simpler times, but my thoughts were far away.

The rhythmic clatter of the carriage wheels became a backdrop to my internal monologue. My mind replayed the faces of my parents, their expressions a mix of pride and worry as I had bid them goodbye. My mother’s soft embrace, my father’s firm handshake—they felt like anchors, grounding me to a life I was determined to protect.

But with every mile closer to Qalbargh, those images were replaced by others—memories from my past life, of betrayal and bloodshed. The sight of House Rithane’s soldiers branding me a traitor, the jeers of the crowd as I was led to my death. My fists clenched at the thought, my nails digging into my palms.

“This time,” I murmured under my breath, the words a promise to myself. “This time, I will rewrite it all. For them. For me.”

The closer we got to the capital, the busier the roads became. Merchants’ caravans rolled alongside us, their carts piled high with goods ranging from bolts of silk to barrels of grain. Travelers on horseback sped past, messengers with urgent deliveries or nobles journeying in luxury.

The carriage driver, a middle-aged man named Elric, struck up occasional conversation.

“First time to Qalbargh, lad?” he asked, glancing back at me.

“Yes,” I replied simply.

He chuckled. “You’re in for a sight, then. The city’s like no place you’ve ever seen—walls as tall as mountains, markets as loud as a festival. Everything you could want, and more you probably don’t.”

His words sparked a flicker of curiosity. I had visited Qalbargh once before in my past life, but it had been under very different circumstances—brought there as a low-ranking soldier, following orders without question. This time, I would walk through its gates with a purpose.

By the time the towering walls of Qalbargh came into view, the sun was beginning its descent, casting long shadows over the landscape. The city was enormous, its stone walls stretching endlessly in both directions. Banners bearing the royal crest fluttered from the battlements, and the sound of distant bells echoed through the air.

As the carriage approached the main gate, the sheer scale of the city became apparent. The walls were lined with guards in polished armor, their eyes scanning every passerby. Beyond the gates, the streets were alive with movement—a sea of people, carts, and animals bustling in every direction.

Qalbargh’s energy was overwhelming. The air was thick with the scents of roasting meats, fresh bread, and the sharp tang of spices. Merchants shouted over one another, hawking their wares, while street performers drew small crowds with their acts. Nobles in fine robes strode through the chaos, their noses slightly turned up, while beggars pleaded for scraps at the edge of the road.

I stepped down from the carriage, my bag slung over my shoulder. The noise and motion surrounded me, but I remained still for a moment, taking it all in.

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This was the heart of the kingdom, the seat of power where the threads of fate were woven. Somewhere in this sprawling city were both the opportunities and the enemies that would shape my path.

As I began to walk toward my destination, my resolve hardened. Every step I took brought me closer to my goals, and every choice would carry me further along the road to vengeance.

Qalbargh was a place of beginnings—and I intended to make the most of mine.

**

A Chance Encounter

The streets of Qalbargh stretched endlessly before me, a maze of activity that seemed both overwhelming and exhilarating. After securing directions to the Falmuth Military Academy, I decided to take my time exploring the capital. It was a world apart from the quiet simplicity of Werfowl.

The main avenue was alive with a cacophony of sounds—merchants shouting their prices, the laughter of children darting between the crowds, the clatter of horse hooves on cobblestone. Stalls lined the streets, offering everything from gleaming jewelry to strange, exotic fruits I couldn’t name. The scent of freshly baked bread mingled with the sharper tang of spices and the earthy aroma of leather goods.

As I wandered, I caught sight of a sign: Grant General Store.

The name hit me like a bolt of lightning. In my previous life, this unassuming shop had played a significant role in my story, though at the time, I hadn’t fully appreciated its importance.

Grant General Store belonged to Freid Grant, a resourceful merchant and the father of Tessara, my former comrade-in-arms. Tessara had been one of the few people I trusted in my old life, a stalwart ally who had fought by my side. She often spoke of her father’s struggles to keep the family business afloat amidst fierce competition and underhanded tactics from rival merchants.

In that timeline, the store’s downfall had occurred only a year after this date, forcing Tessara to join the military to support her family. It was there we had met, two commoners trying to survive in a world dominated by nobles. But here, now, I stood at the threshold of a different possibility.

The bell above the door jingled as I stepped inside the shop. The interior was simple but well-organized, shelves lined with goods ranging from dried foods to household tools. A handful of customers browsed the aisles, their quiet conversations blending with the faint creak of wooden floorboards.

Behind the counter stood Freid Grant, a middle-aged man with kind eyes and a worn but determined expression. He greeted customers warmly, his voice carrying the confidence of someone who took pride in his work.

Near the far end of the store, a young girl darted between the shelves, her small hands stacking cans of preserves with remarkable efficiency. Her auburn hair, tied back in a loose braid, glinted in the afternoon light streaming through the windows.

Tessara.

She looked younger than I remembered—of course, she would be. At this point in time, she was still a child, blissfully unaware of the hardships that would soon befall her family. Seeing her like this stirred something in me, a strange mix of nostalgia and determination.

I approached her cautiously, not wanting to startle her. “Excuse me,” I said, keeping my tone light. “Could you point me to where you keep... writing supplies?”

She paused in her work and looked up at me, her green eyes bright and curious. “Over there,” she said, pointing to a corner shelf. “But we’re running low. Papa says it’s hard to keep stock lately.”

Her words triggered a memory. Tessara had once confided in me about the store’s struggles. Back then, she mentioned that their revenue never seemed to add up, no matter how hard her father worked. It had taken years—and the ruin of the store—to uncover the truth: someone within their ranks had been embezzling funds.

I couldn’t let that happen again.

As I walked toward the shelf, I glanced back at her. “It must be tough,” I said casually. “Keeping track of everything in such a busy place.”

She shrugged, clearly more focused on her task. “Papa tries his best, but it’s confusing sometimes. He says the numbers don’t make sense.”

I nodded thoughtfully, an idea forming in my mind. In my previous life, Tessara had lamented the lack of a proper system to manage their finances. The concept of double bookkeeping—a revolutionary method that became widely used years later—hadn’t been introduced yet. But I knew it, and I could teach it.

Returning to the counter, I picked up a few items and paid for them. Before leaving, I caught Tessara’s attention again.

“Have you ever heard of keeping two sets of records?” I asked.

She frowned, clearly intrigued. “No. What’s that?”

“It’s a way to track everything—money coming in, money going out—so nothing gets lost or stolen. It might help your father figure out why things aren’t adding up.”

Her eyes widened. “That sounds... amazing. Could you show me?”

Over the next few minutes, I grabbed a scrap of paper and demonstrated the basics. She watched intently, her young mind absorbing the information with surprising speed.

When I finished, she looked at me with a mix of gratitude and awe. “This could really help us. Thank you!”

I smiled, feeling a strange sense of satisfaction. “Just make sure to keep the records safe. And tell your father to watch for anything unusual.”

She nodded eagerly. “I will. Thank you again... um, what’s your name?”

“Illiad,” I said, extending a hand.

“Tessara,” she replied, shaking it with surprising firmness for someone her age.

As I left the shop, I couldn’t help but feel a small glimmer of hope. Tessara and her family had been important allies in my old life, and saving their business could strengthen that bond in this timeline. It was a small step, but an important one.

Walking back onto the bustling streets of Qalbargh, I felt a renewed sense of purpose. This city was full of opportunities and challenges, and I intended to seize them all.

**

Falmuth Academy: A New Frontier

The towering gates of Falmuth Military Academy stood before me, an imposing structure of wrought iron and polished stone. Flanked by majestic banners bearing the royal crest, the entrance seemed to hum with authority and promise. Beyond it lay my future—a future that I intended to shape with precision and purpose.

The academy itself was nestled within an expansive campus, with manicured gardens and towering buildings of white stone arranged in precise symmetry. Soldiers and cadets moved about in neat formations, their uniforms pristine and their movements disciplined. There was an air of ambition and camaraderie, an undercurrent of competition that electrified the atmosphere.

I stood there for a moment, taking it all in. This was where the kingdom’s best were forged, where nobles and the rare commoner mingled, vying for positions of power within the Central Military. A place where strength and strategy were honed to perfection.

For me, however, this wasn’t just a school—it was a battlefield in its own right. A battlefield where I would sharpen my skills, build alliances, and outmaneuver those who had wronged me.

As I stepped through the gates, I was directed to a registration desk manned by a stern-looking officer with sharp eyes and a clipboard.

“Name?” he asked curtly, not looking up.

“Illiad,” I replied.

He scanned a list, then marked something off with a quill. “You’ll be assigned to Dormitory Four. Follow the path to the left. Orientation begins tomorrow at sunrise. Don’t be late.”

He handed me a small satchel containing a few essentials—a map of the academy grounds, a simple uniform, and a schedule for the week ahead. I thanked him and made my way down the path he had indicated.

The dormitory was a modest building compared to the grandeur of the main halls, but it was sturdy and well-maintained. Inside, I found rows of bunk beds, each with a small wooden chest at its foot. Several other boys were already settling in, their voices filling the room with a mix of excitement and nervous energy.

I chose an empty bunk near the window and placed my belongings inside the chest. The view overlooked the training grounds, where cadets in older years were sparring under the watchful eyes of their instructors.

For a moment, I let myself imagine the years ahead. It wouldn’t be easy. The academy would push me to my limits, testing both my body and mind. But I was ready for it. I had to be. Later that evening, as I sat on my bunk reviewing the map and schedule, a few of the other boys approached me.

“You’re new too?” one of them asked. He was the wiry boy at Casca back then. With dark hair and a curious expression, he asked.

I nodded. “Just arrived.”

“Me too,” he said, sitting on the edge of the bunk across from mine. “Name’s Lorian. From Dravholm. What about you?”

“Illiad, from Werfowl,” I replied.

A couple of the others joined in, introducing themselves. Their accents and manners marked them as commoners like me, though their eagerness suggested they didn’t fully grasp the weight of what this opportunity represented.

I listened more than I spoke, gauging their personalities. Some were boastful, bragging about their sword skills or their family’s modest successes. Others were quieter, their eyes betraying their uncertainty.

By the time the lights dimmed and the dormitory settled into a hushed stillness, I had already begun forming a mental map of potential allies and rivals.

The next morning, as the first rays of sunlight filtered through the window, I stood at the training grounds with the other new recruits. Instructors barked orders, their voices cutting through the crisp morning air.

“Stand straight! Eyes forward!”

The drills were basic but grueling, designed to weed out those who lacked discipline or resolve. We ran laps around the expansive grounds, practiced formations, and underwent endurance tests that left many gasping for breath.

For me, it was familiar terrain. The techniques might have been simpler than what I remembered from my previous life, but the principles were the same. I moved with purpose, keeping my posture steady and my focus sharp.

The instructors took notice. I caught one of them murmuring to another, his eyes lingering on me as I completed a particularly difficult drill without faltering.

By the end of the day, I was sore and exhausted, but there was a sense of satisfaction burning in my chest. I had made it through the first step, and I could already feel myself growing stronger.

That evening, as I sat in the dining hall with my fellow cadets, I allowed myself a small smile. The food was simple but hearty, and the conversations around me were filled with cautious optimism.

I knew the road ahead would be long and fraught with challenges. But as I gazed around the hall, surrounded by the future soldiers of the kingdom, I felt a deep certainty settle within me.

This was where it would all begin. My training, my alliances, my rise to power—it would all start here, within the walls of Falmuth Military Academy.