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I know that this part of the story is where everything goes wrong. I got too powerful, and I only rose higher.

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The military outpost was a fort, named after the late Revin the 6th, who was a revered military general. I scowled at this; my parents hated the man because of the constant raiding he'd caused. He had furthered the war, not nearly ended it.

The fort itself was large. Made of cobblestone and covered in green vines, the tall towers seemed to cover my whole entire gaze. There was a moat and a gatehouse. I already dreaded the fact that there would be racism here.

Once at the gate, I see a guard from the nearby tower yell down at me. “What do you want, skank?” The soldier scowled.

“I want to join the army.” The soldier brought down the drawbridge and let me enter. Once inside, a flurry of soldiers appeared in front of me. “All right, come with us.” Following them, I was brought through austere hallways and large halls full of ancient tapestries and furniture. Sunlight poured through the arched windows, some being made of stained glass. They stopped at a wooden office full of dusty bookshelves, stacked papers, and ink quills. Sitting at the dark oak desk was a middle-aged man, who was the commander of the outpost. He wore a pair of military-issued clothes, with a blue bulletproof coat and pants.

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“So, you want to join the fight, huh?” He seemed confused, as most people in the armed forces were human and not elven or orcish.

“Yes sir. I have experience in magic and some sword fighting.” The commander thought for a second, staring out the nearby window at the countryside. I felt like a burden, considering how dirty and sweaty I was.

“We’ll do a test before any furtherment.” The commander stood up and I followed to the courtyard. The sun beat down like hell, more sweat beading down my damp body. We both grabbed swords, and the duel began.

He took the first swing, yet I parried and left a small cut on his rib cage. The commander ran toward me, wincing in pain. Nearing me, I turned my body and prepared to block. The determination painted across the pain-torn face of his was admirable, I’ll admit. His sword aimed toward my belly, and it almost hit if I hadn’t rolled out of the way, the commander slamming into a haystack.

Finally, I began to channel magic by itself, grasping every element. I channeled a spiral, throwing rubble here and there for the commander to dodge. Time seemed to pass, and finally, I regained a recognition of where I was. The commander was on the ground crying like a baby. It was my fault again, yet there was one thing I gained; “You’re in.” The commander said. I never learned his name or saw him again.