Four Days Until the Prophecy.
Sorn couldn’t help but feel out of place alongside the group of Marauders he was walking with. Out of the ten he was eating dinner with prior, seven had made it into the top fifty of the Academy. He didn’t know all their names, mostly because they didn’t pay much attention to him, preferring to laugh merrily and shove each other as they walked along.
Serene: “It looks good on you.”
Sorn turned to look at her. She had always intimidated him. She was quiet and cunning. Where Oden would play alongside the Marauders, she would hang back and watch over them with content. When she did speak, she was listened to. She was larger than most of the men, with her long braided hair swinging back all the way down to the back of her knees, it was impossible not to feel minuscule in her presence. This rare compliment from her had caught Sorn off guard. She was referring to the Academy uniform he had adorned. On the back of it was the symbol of the Marauders, the single ax that signaled the outsider's affiliation for all to see. The others had joked about him being the “smallest Marauder in history” since the start of the morning, but Serene’s words had restored some of his lost confidence.
The Academy was closer to the bottom of the mountain, and earlier Sorn had noticed the tournament area’s walls were complete. Sorn was secretly very glad any meetings he had with Varian would be limited if he was helping to set the stage. The Academy was large, perhaps even larger than the Marauder’s barracks. Children of all ages were entering and leaving through various other buildings, all that were significantly larger than the main middle building. Oden left the main group to stand next to Sorn as they entered that middle building. The large symbol of a snowflake on the face of the building set it apart from all the others.
Oden: “Only in the past hundred years has education been so emphasized. Now even peasants from the outermost areas send their children here to learn, and those with knowledge rather than strength are being more valued. Much to the dismay of my father.”
Sorn: “Why? Isn’t this a good thing?”
Oden: “I do believe something like this is important for a thriving society, but the Promised Day is coming upon us. We don’t know anything about our enemies, except that they are our enemies. Risks cannot be taken, our effort must first and foremost be put into our militia.”
Sorn wondered how right he was. The fact that he was calling people he had never seen or met before his “enemies” was extremely telling to him. He wondered if the other Elemental clans felt the same sentiment after over a thousand years. Perhaps they had forgotten or didn’t care about the Promised Day. Maybe they would call for a peaceful ceasefire. Oden, who had been watching Sorn lost in his thoughts, smiled. Sorn wasn’t a big fan of the fact that they had just met and Oden could already read him this well. He could only hope that whatever ulterior motivations he did have wouldn’t make Sorn regret helping him.
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Oden: “It is naive to think of them as anything other than enemies. Destiny has required us to do so. Our lack of knowledge paired with the opportunity of acquiring the power to bring the world to its knees is a marriage that cannot be overlooked. Even the Elders understand this. That’s why, alongside our protection, there have been no attempts to assassinate you. The Spear Subclan are the only ones who outspokenly oppose you, but they are smart enough to know that the internal conflict killing you would cause is even greater than the threat you symbolize.”
As he finished his sentence, they entered a large room composed of long desks arranged in a square shape. The room was mostly full, and Sorn couldn’t help but wonder if tardiness was an inherent quality of the Marauders. He saw the corner seat was open, and right next to it was Crystal waving at him. He made his way over to her and they started whispering to each other.
Crystal: “You look good in the Marauder uniform.”
Sorn: “Thanks, really feeling the brute inside me.”
Crystal: “I’ve spoken to Oden and Serene a fair amount of times. Trust me, you could’ve gotten far worse.”
Sorn: “Yeah, I gathered.”
Their conversation was cut short by a side eye from the Professor. Sorn couldn’t shake off the fact that the entire class was giving him side eyes and whispering among themselves about him, so he was glad the attention was diverted when the Professor got to the crux of his lecture. He had made with ice the Royal Palace. At least Sorn assumed so, since he’d only ever seen it covered by the ice walls.
Professor: “As you know, there will be five levels to the tournament. I have just today gotten permission to tell you the order of the levels.”
Sorn took in the information he was saying with great attention, and broke down what he had heard in his head.
* The tournament will take the form of a race. Further information will be explained in the tournament, but as per customs it will end with four or five winners. They will begin at the highest level and make it down to the lowest level as quick as possible. Each level will be run by a single Council member.
* The highest level will be led by the Chain User, Cedric. He was a master in particular of one of Champion Aelon’s most famous qualities, sealing.
* Next would be done by the leader of the Blade Dancers, Freyja. Sorn remembered her both as Toren’s mother and the woman who had advocated most for his survival, giving him an extremely conflicted impression.
* The third level would be done by the harpist Lyra. She remained quiet throughout his trial, but he remembered her voting in his favor.
* The fourth level would be done by Varian, and the final level within the Royal Palace would be managed by Bjorn.
Sorn wondered with most of the students being members of the mentioned clans, how many of them were actually seeing new information. He guessed not many judging by how quickly they lost interest. The Marauders had made small ice sticks and were throwing them at each other. The Professor curiously gave this no attention, though he responded in a different way.
Professor: “The Spears have always managed the final stage of the tournament. I’m sure you can deduce why this isn’t the case anymore for yourselves.”
The Spear members in the class, who were sitting across from Sorn, glared at him, and Sorn found a cool dent in the wall to analyze. Sorn looked to his right to see Oden sitting with a smug smile. Sorn sighed to himself.
Professor: “You kids are here for a reason. There is nothing left for me to teach you. As of today, you are soldiers. The winners of the tournament will achieve the highest status of being in their own Elite Squad. Look forward to this honor. You are permanently dismissed.”
Crystal was dying from laughter.
Crystal: “Looks like you only got one day at the Academy!”
Sorn stared blankly at the wall in front of him.
Why does everything have to be so chaotic?
End.