Chapter 2 – Orientation
James moped over the previous day’s events as he stepped lazily off the carriage. The horses whinnied towards him, as if they were annoyed with his hesitation, and he suddenly understood why. The climate itself had transformed completely over the course of their journey. Warmth had completely succumbed to violently strong and cold winds, howling like banshees all around them, cutting through his clothes like they were made of string and shrieking in his ear like raging ghosts.
The horses whinnied again. The longer he stayed in the wagon, the longer they would have to endure the skin-piercing winds, mysteriously cutting through their thick hides. At least when they were moving, they found solace in their body heat. James rolled his eyes at them and half-stepped, half-jumped onto the wet slush below.
Wait. Snow? When did that happen?
“How long was I asleep?” he asked the driver. It was still dark so it couldn’t have been too long of a ride.
“Just a couple of hours. I know things look strange, but the weather’s different over here.”
“I see,” he said. James handed him the five shell. It was the least he could do.
James clutched the collar of his jacket and tried blowing a ring of vapor from his mouth as the driver nodded in his direction. With barely a wave, the driver snapped the reins and wasted no time in heading back to the village. James didn’t blame him. Being in the presence of the Academy itself had to make anyone uncomfortable and he was doing his absolute best to not think about its intimidating presence.
He blew another ring of vapor, still in awe over how cold it had gotten. Then he decided to blow another, and for a moment, he mused over what the record for blowing vapor rings was when he suddenly shook his head to get rid of the thought. He couldn’t afford to be distracted, not at a place like this. He had to learn how to focus.
He looked around, realizing for the first time how still the atmosphere was. There was no welcoming party. No one to greet his arrival. Not even a doorman. Just the eerie feeling that he was being watched. The wind died down as he glanced up at the colossal steel door towering over him.
He grabbed his satchel and adjusted it over his shoulder until he was comfortable, his thoughts already trailing off. He tried to decide whether to enter the Academy doors looking scared or like he was a force to be reckoned with. After all, first impressions were everything.
He could probably get some sympathy looking like the scared new kid, but then again, there was no guarantee he wouldn’t be made fun of, so that option was out.
Bad boy it is.
He lowered his eyes to appear bored and tensed his jaw as if he were constantly angry. Swinging his satchel over his other shoulder, he tilted his head slightly to the left. Pushing the rusted steel door entrance to the side, he stepped through, trying not to snicker at the thought of what he must look like. I’ll just need a chump to be my lackey and I’m good to go, he thought as he surveyed the empty courtyard beyond the doors, flat and barren with only the slush providing contours in the landscape.
Enormous pillars extended down to the main Academy building in two parallel straight lines, lampposts hanging from each one, barely lit. Though the yard had no roof over it, it was somehow darker than when he had been outside its doors, creating an effect that screamed out it was haunted.
Suddenly he was thankful no one was there to greet him. They might catch the fear creeping into his face.
At least he thought no one was there…
He didn’t see the open palm swinging toward his mouth.
As it struck, he cried out in shock, swinging his satchel in retaliation at the attacker, but he missed horribly. He heard the culprit snicker from the shadows as he grabbed James’s satchel with little effort. James stood there, dumbstruck, and watched as the mysterious attacker used his own possessions against him, swiping his legs from underneath him and forcing him into the wet slush below. The attacker chuckled from underneath his coat as he stepped further into the light.
“You would have gotten more of a welcome acting like the new kid.”
The stranger was tall and skinny, but not lanky. Jet black hair flowed from the crown of his head like it had life of its own, constantly covering his left eye as if he were trying to hide something in his retina. The eye that did reveal itself was piercing, intense, and full of life, but not of excitement. It was searching for something, with a passion that advised caution to anyone who stepped in its path. And James had no doubt that this stranger sought to match his wardrobe with his stare. A long, black trench coat draped his body, finely pressed and only accentuating his cold demeanor. On top of all that, with the dark fabrics clothing him, the stranger’s right eye was only further intensified as it was the first thing anyone saw beyond the black…
“Who are you?” James demanded cautiously. This was not his father. He couldn’t just say any word that popped into his mind.
“If I tell you my name, you’ll be obligated to tell me yours, and then I might get sentimental when you’re killed in the field, so if it’s all right with you, I’d rather skip the introductions.”
The stranger stared him down, waiting for a reply as James uncomfortably stood up and brushed himself off. Was this a teacher here? Or someone playing a cruel joke? His voice was so foreboding and threatening that it bordered on the line of scary and entertaining. This man spoke with such a matter-of-fact voice that James couldn’t figure out if he was joking or not.
“So, what do I call you in the mean time?”
“Just call him Kyran,” a deep, intellectual voice stated behind them. James instantly figured that the new figure arriving had to be an actual teacher. His voice begged to be heard.
“You’re no fun, Arimus. I wanted to greet this one.” Kyran said with no excitement whatsoever. Every sentence that came out of his mouth was monotonous in its identically sinister tone and pitch.
“You have odd tactics, my friend,” Arimus said. “But I must ask you to spare our company of what you would have dared to call yourself.”
Kyran didn’t say a word and handed James the satchel.
“Make no mistake,” Kyran said to him, leaning into his face. “Arimus is tougher than I. Under that soothing temperament is the grace of a sledgehammer. Mind your tongue in his presence.”
James nodded nervously as Kyran studied his reaction. When he was satisfied, he walked off into the darkness like he was part of its ambience, his dark hair and black trench coat melting into the shadows.
“I know what you’re thinking, James,” Arimus said. “He looks like a black cat.”
He snorted at the thought but then immediately gathered his composure in front of his superior. It was best to go through the motions and wait to see what was acceptable or not before he started playing around. Suddenly, a thought occurred to him.
“You know my name,” he blurted out. It was probably not the most militaristic response, but Arimus didn’t seem to notice. He instead motioned for James to walk with him as they traveled across the stretch of courtyard to the entrance of the school itself. James couldn’t help but be in awe over the man. He had to be about seven feet tall, with a build that was desperately trying to match his height in width. Behind the ancient, wool cloak that covered his body, James had no doubts that this man had muscles as big as his head underneath. There was not a shred of evidence indicating he was fat. Add this intimidating fact to the rugged gray beard shrouding most of his face and his steel blue eyes overflowing with wisdom, and James suddenly found himself listening intently before he realized it. He wasn’t sure why, but this man, in seconds, had gained his respect.
“It was not hard to figure out,” Arimus said assuredly. “Considering only one recruit was to arrive today, and his name was James.”
“True, sir,” he stated mindlessly, not sure what to say.
“You may call me by my proper name. Arimus. You will find that there are few formalities here.”
�
��R-uh-moss?” he mouthed, like there was a bad taste in his mouth.
“Close. It’s pronounced air-a-muhs.”
“Ah.”
“And the soldier you had the pleasure of meeting a moment ago was Kyran. A little shady at times, but one you can trust with your life. After all, that is one of the requisites of becoming a full-fledged soldier. You must be reliable on all accounts.”
“You trust me with your life, Arimus?”
“No, James,” he stated flatly. ”Not yet. But that is one of the purposes of the Academy. To see if we can. Come, I will show you to your room. There you will find some food and the rest of the night is yours to do as you please. But tomorrow at dawn, the training begins.”
“Can I ask you something?” James said as they reached the end of the courtyard. The winds died down suddenly to a whisper.
“Of course.”
“Where is everyone? I can’t be the only one. Am I?”
“No, of course not. There are others, but before you can join the general class, you have to pass the preliminary course. It won’t take long. Until then, you will remain in solitude.”
“And what is the preliminary course?”
“That,” Arimus mused behind his scraggly beard, “will have to remain a mystery. An important part of the course is its uncertainty, designed to keep you up all night with wild notions of deadly scenarios.”
“How is keeping me up all night supposed to help?”
“So you won’t have the clarity and dexterity you will need tomorrow. If you can’t pass this, there is no point in going further. It would be wise of you to take every test at the Academy with great concern.”
James regretted asking. The last thing he needed was to stay up all night wondering what he’d have to endure the next day, but now that was exactly what he was sure to do. Only one thing comforted him and gave him a sliver of hope. The fatherly tone in Arimus’s voice. From the sound of it, Arimus would be giving the course in the morning, and he didn’t seem like a cutthroat proctor. Of course, that could all be a part of the façade, but there was still something trustworthy emanating from him. James had no doubt the mysterious test would be hard, but he figured that at least his life wasn’t in danger.
“I’ll take it seriously,” he said. Arimus glanced up at the entrance to the fortress that was the Sentinel Academy. The creaking oak doors opened for a second under a gust of the wind and Arimus immediately shut it, giving James just enough time to see that the building inside looked more like a prison than a school. He felt his stomach knot up.
“This will not be a vacation,” Arimus confirmed. “But we do have the bare essentials.”
“I couldn’t have put it any better,” James said under his breath, recalling the abundance of grey colors and dreary decorations.
“This is actually not the original academy building, in case you are wondering. That was destroyed in the siege of ’88. I assume you know a little about our history.”
“My father tells me nothing.”
“You didn’t learn anything in school about the Kingdom? Particularly the siege of ‘88?”
“I can’t say I was an avid listener.”
“Then I will tell you a little about the layout of this Academy for now. We’ll discuss history at a later date. However, if your mind strays, I will bring it back. Agreed?”
James took a deep breath, concentrating on the words that would come out of Arimus’s mouth. He didn’t feel like getting slapped twice in the same night.
“I’m ready.”
“Well, as I hope you know, the Kingdom as a whole is not without its share of defenses. Besides its walls, it is also surrounded by a thick wall of vegetation, filled to the brink with lethal creatures and animals. If an enemy happened to survive the sixty mile hike through the forest, then they would have to somehow make their way through the shield of fog that circles the outer perimeter. Most of the fog is due to the heavy precipitation we receive and the condensation caused by the forest swamps.”
“Is that why it’s so gloomy around here?”
“Mostly. This training facility happens to be right on the edge of the fog shield.”
“Why?”
“This facility is the first line of defense in case of an attack. The south side, where we now stand, is the only entrance that faces out toward the other Kingdoms. The other sides are quite guarded, so unless they are very resourceful, the enemy must enter here, which for them is a very bad thing. The first thing they see as their vision slowly clears is the tint of our blades and their blood spilling violently to the ground.”
James followed Arimus’s eyes back to the colossal steel doors that he had come through earlier.
“The other three entrances are guarded on the outside by graduated sentinel armies. And to climb one of the high walls that surround us is physically impossible, and quite impractical, for even if someone had the dexterity and will to do so, we have archers at the ready at all times, hidden and in waiting.”
“What else is there to stop the enemy?” James asked in awe. He had never realized how protected the Kingdom of Allay really was. And the graduates had to be the best there was. How could someone guard a post for years without ever breaking cover? Without revealing themselves to a single villager?
“We have high sounding brass and copper instruments to accompany our first wave into battle. In the beginning of this Kingdom as well as the former, we have had a shortage of men. Sometimes strategy is all we have. We cannot afford to go out into battle as some Kingdoms do, able to lose man for man, only winning simply because we have quantity. It is quality that we possess here, James. This is embodied in our motto: ‘We are not many, but they are few.’”
“So when they come out of the fog, the instruments are there to make the enemy think there are more than there really are,” James clarified.
“Yes. It is more of a fear of the unknown that betrays them more than anything else. We use that to our advantage. Every one of the four great Kingdoms have their own strategies to deal with invading enemies.”
“What are the four Kingdoms? What are their strategies?” he inquired, very intrigued, and feeling ashamed that he hadn’t focused in school. Of course, teachers didn’t threaten to slap you for not paying attention there.
“That is for another time, James. As it is, there is little time to tell you of this one.”
“Fine,” he sighed. “But I do have one more question. Why does the only gateway to the south side lead first into an empty courtyard? There are no weapons on the pillars, or places an archer can shoot an arrow from except for the balcony I noticed above us. There’s no incline or low ground to give us one advantage or another. It’s all just flat ground under an open sky. There isn’t even a soldier on guard here.”
“Not to mention the lack of space,” Arimus continued. “There is barely enough room to line up fifty men from one end to the other, let alone hundreds or thousands. Our infantry would be quite cramped and actually at quite the disadvantage.”
“Exactly.”
“James, do you know what the Sentinel Academy produces?”
“The Academy is kind of like the recruitment center for an army. This is where our infantry receive their training before going out into the world.”
“Very good. I see you have paid at least a tolerable amount of attention.”
“I have my moments.”
“James, the Sentinel Academy produces some of the finest men on the face of the planet. But where it truly shines is not through our infantry. You see, out of every one million students that step through our walls, a Sage emerges.”
“A Sage?”
“A Sage is usually defined as someone who is very wise, but there is more to it than that. When one becomes a Sage, they gain knowledge so profound, most faint at its very whisper. They acquire power that can rip an entire army in half with techniques and skills forbidden to and hidden from the common man. A paradoxical
creature that is both mighty and servile. Fearless yet kind. These few become the strong arm of our Kingdom. They are actually the sole reason the Kingdom of Allay still exists today. If you could only see the brutal yet elegant swing of a Sage’s sword as he battles hundreds of men pouring in ten by ten through this very courtyard…you would believe your own eyes were lying to you. A Sage could not do his or her job surrounded by thousands of liabilities. That is why this courtyard was made for the Sage and the Sage alone. There is hardly a watchman at this entrance, yet it is arguably the most guarded in the entire Kingdom.”
James stared at the courtyard with newfound awe and respect. He had read of such men in the few books he had managed to read, but he never would have thought they actually existed. And to think, there was an Academy, only a few hours from the house he grew up in, that could train a boy to become one of those men. It was not a question of chance, or whether you were born into royalty. It was about dedication and hard work.
Something, he knew, that he did not possess.
Yet, here he was, taking that first step in the right direction, standing on the very gravel of countless battles, gazing upon the marks of mysterious blades scarred into the courtyard pillars. He could see those men, fighting their once proud enemies, now falling in both fear and reverence to what they had once dismissed as mere myth. A Sage standing before them, cool, tranquil, waiting, not for his enemy to strike, but for his own adrenaline to reach its peak. For the moment his blood ran cold and his muscles methodically moved with the blade that had become one with his hand. Quick, and so hideously precise, the Sage would take his next breath and a Kingdom’s army would fall to its knees. For the first time, James was filled with a sense of breathtaking awe, and he never wanted to forget the feeling.
He wanted more, and there was only way to get it.
“Arimus,” he said firmly.
“Yes?”
“I want to be a Sage.”
“Oh?” Arimus replied, looking curiously at the young recruit. James stood resolutely, unwavering in his declaration.
“I’m serious,” he said.
“You and every other student that has or will enter that gate,” Arimus said, refusing to sugarcoat his words. “James, I do not mean to crush your spirits, but even the strongest of the infantry fall short of a Sage’s status. If you can’t even beat one such as Kyran, for example, you have no hope.”
“Kyran is part of the infantry?”
“Yes, but his position is not something to gawk at. He is a brigadier general in the highest division of the infantry. Not a Sage, but still very formidable.”
“And what about you?” he asked quickly. “Are you a Sage?”
Arimus lowered his eyes in sadness and rubbed the back of his neck.
“I wish I could say I was. Nothing would be a greater honor, but unfortunately, I am not.”
James looked away from Arimus in disgust, not because his new mentor hadn’t reached the coveted rank that so many strived for, but for the revelation that, in order to even think about becoming a Sage, he would have to defeat Kyran and Arimus in battle, two men he figured could take decades to surpass.
“Your visage betrays you,” Arimus said. “I know exactly what you are thinking.”
“Arimus, why couldn’t you be a Sage?” James cried out. “Did you not pass the test?”
He was practically yelling, but he couldn’t restrain himself. He just couldn’t come to terms that this man, the first he had ever seen that he believed he could actually look up to and aspire to become like, could not have reached the height of power. What went wrong?
“It’s not like I lacked the ambition. It was simply a matter of order. I was not destined to be a Sage, so I did not become one.”
Arimus trailed off, recalling past events. He came back to the present as soon as he could, and an amused smirk came over his face. He placed a firm and calloused hand on James’s head, who simply stood in awe at how the palm covered his entire crown. James glanced shamefully down at his own smooth, delicate hands, and scowled. They were so pristine, so inexperienced in all things known as work.
He could not become a Sage with such hands.
“Few are able to keep me talking this long,” Arimus replied. “You must have a gift…but, it is getting late and you must retire for the night. Your questions will be answered as all things are…in time.”
Arimus opened the Academy door and pushed the new student gently inside.
“Your temporary room is straight ahead beyond the winding stairs. You can’t miss it, and I must add one more thing. Tonight you do not get the privilege of exploration. Understood?”
“Sure,” James replied, unsure of what his words really meant.
“I would escort you, but I have some business to attend to. Good night.”
“Good night, Arimus.”
Arimus turned around and swiftly ran toward and out the steel courtyard doors before James could blink, opening their massive exterior with a simple, effortless shove - a phantom disappearing into the night.
James watched until he was out of sight, and then turned to enter the building, wondering just how Arimus looked so young yet had such gray hair. The shut of the oak doors behind him broke his thoughts and he sighed and looked around. There wasn’t much to see.
The most impressive feature of the gigantic lobby was the winding stairs that came from the east and west sides of the building. They spiraled downward and diagonally until they nearly touched in the center. In the center was an entrance, leading to a narrow hallway through which he couldn’t make out whether there was actually a room or even a door at the other end. The respective destinations of the winding stairs were also invisible from where he stood. But it seemed they led into grand halls of stadium or arena-like size. He surmised that the Academy as a whole was a lot bigger than he had previously speculated.
One of the more interesting features of the lobby (and it wasn’t saying much), were the various scratched-out or destroyed paintings that hung on each side wall, ten in total. For a moment, James considered checking out each of the paintings, thinking that maybe, just maybe, there was a picture of a Sage gracing the canvases, but he dismissed it almost immediately. The disappointment of finding there was none would be too depressing.
Other than the paintings, there was nothing noticeable in James’s surroundings, like statues or chandeliers, beautiful tapestries or intimate candles. All that stood out was the dreary gray that inhabited the room like a foggy odor. The room was painted gray. The paintings were framed in gray. The stairs were gray, the floor was tiled in gray, the marble walls were for some odd reason painted in gray. To be honest, his mood was starting to turn gray by the second.
He sighed in disgust and started heading through the winding stairs, through the narrow hallway that would lead to the infamous “room” Arimus spoke of. James barely fit in the hallway, it was so tight. The ceiling practically touched his head. No wonder Arimus wasn’t escorting him. He wouldn’t even fit.
James didn’t bother testing the width in case he got stuck, so he decided to just jog to the door and burst through. When he did, he was surprised by what he saw. There were no windows(which he noted even prisoners received), but the room was humongous. About a fourth of the size of the courtyard in width, and with a ceiling that reached stories above him. He could only wonder at the room’s true purpose. A pastel blue, the room was much more inviting than the lobby, especially with the recently prepared fire that lapped at the back of his legs from the brick fireplace. He stretched and yawned and decided to allow himself a little time to relax, a feat he had accomplished many times over. Strolling over to the only two items in the room, a bookcase and a bed, he rummaged through the book selections, careful to actually take the time to fully read the titles. One in particular caught his interest: How to become a Sage.
He squealed in delight but then quickly covered his mouth, hoping no one had heard him. Even though he had de
cided to bury the bad boy image, there was no need to cremate it. He waited a moment for laughter, but heard only the crackling wood under the might of the flames. Satisfied he was in the clear, he tried maintaining his composure as he opened the leather bound gargantuan. Opening it slowly, as if it contained hidden treasure, his eyes widened as he saw the inside of the book carved out; in its place, only a tiny note remained, reading: HAHAHA. Psych! There is no book on becoming a Sage, idiot. Love, Kyran.
James grunted in annoyance and plopped down on the wooden bed. He was done looking for reading material. What he really needed was a good night’s sleep if he was going to survive whatever test Arimus had for him in the morning. He yawned again and decided he would dream about becoming a Sage…
But he didn’t get the chance.
Just as he hit the edge of dreaming, he heard a bloodcurdling scream that broke through his consciousness. Waking up at full alert, he strained his ears and gawked in horror as he heard faint laughing and giggling following the wake up call. Confined to his room and surrounded by the unknown, it was no time to be a hero but…if someone was in trouble, he should do something.
Already sweating through his clothes, he stood up and neglected his shoes, racing out the door to discover the source. He wasn’t sure of which way to go when he reached the lobby, as it was dead silent, but he figured he had a 50/50 chance of choosing correctly so he guessed. Deciding to pick the west side of the stairs, he took the steps two-by-two, desperately trying to maintain his balance. Sweating and heaving, he turned into a large assembly hall of some kind. Over the entrance read the word: gymnasium. He wasn’t sure what it meant, but it gave him the impression it was of great importance. The entire room was brightly lit by hundreds of lanterns that hung from the ceiling like stars, and banners graced each of the walls like a king’s wardrobe, showing off a display of bright colors he had only seen in a rainbow. But that wasn’t what really caught his attention.
It was the people.
Young adults like himself, both boys and girls, running around the hall, giggling and tripping over one another as they avoided one particular girl running back and forth, trying to catch them. At first, he thought it was a game of tag until he saw the girl that appeared to be “it” reached toward one boy and started swinging her arms toward his face with focused precision. It was obvious she had been trained in some type of martial arts with how she tried to hit him, but what made it even stranger was that she was blindfolded while she was doing it. Surprisingly, the boy laughed and blocked her incoming blows with ease, running away after one particularly heavy swing knocked the girl off balance. She caught herself on the way down and immediately lunged toward the next girl she happened to hear pass by but she missed her too. It was pure chaos, but they were all enjoying it. James had to know what was going on.
“What is going on in here?” he yelled to no one specifically as he looked down at his bare feet, suddenly feeling the cold tiled floor beneath him. James raised his head just in time to catch a fist to his left cheek. He cried out sharply as he tumbled over his pant bottoms and skidded to the floor below, hitting the back of his head with all the grace of a rock. The laughing stopped immediately.
“I’m not getting in trouble,” one boy yelled out as he sprinted past James and out the door.
The crowd agreed with the assessment and everyone began scurrying out of the room. James tried to say something, but his head hurt too much. In seconds, no one remained but him and the girl who had struck him. James moaned and squinted at her. She was standing still above him, trying to hold back feelings of contempt for interrupting their fun, but then she smiled, sighing in acceptance that the night was over. Her smile became even warmer as she reached out her hand.
“I honestly didn’t think I hit you that hard,” she said as she helped to pull him up.
“Well, it wasn’t so much the force as it was the surprise,” he commented, rubbing his cheek.
“So you’re saying that I have no oomph? No strength?” she asked, pulling off a wig of jet black hair from her head, revealing a full head of curly, brown hair.
“Um, I wouldn’t say all that…” James muttered as she began wiping her face with her sleeve, revealing a very different face than the one she had been sporting a couple of seconds ago. Whoever she was, she sure caked on the make-up.
“But you are thinking it,” the girl commented. “Why don’t my punches hurt? I’m curious to know.”
“So tell me something,” he said, ignoring her, touching the back of his head and sighing in relief when he found no blood. “What is all this?”
“What is all of what?”
“The running around hitting people blindfolded thing.”
“We were playing tag.”
“Tag? That was tag? I mean, I’m no expert at how games should be played, but that didn’t look like tag to me.”
“Did you hit your head that hard, or do you always talk so strange?”
“Well I think it’s safe to say it wasn’t the punch to the face that jumbled my brain.”
The brown-haired girl shook her head in amusement and stared at her soft, light, olive-skinned hands. James cut off the quip he was about to pull out when he remembered what Arimus had said earlier. You and every other student that has or will enter that gate. He cleared his throat and decided to not cut her down any further.
“I’m sorry I said all that about your strength. I mean, you did knock me down.”
“Why the sudden apology? Feel bad because I’m a woman?”
“No, that’s not it at all, I just…” he stared at her open palms and then back at his, noticing how even her hands had seen more action than he had.
“It’s not like graduation is tomorrow,” she said, realizing what he was thinking. “We still have plenty of time to become a Sage.”
He nodded, unsure of what to say.
“Anyways, my name is Catherine, 5th class.”
“Class?”
“You must be new here. Our class tells us how far along we are. There are ten classes. Number one being the highest. Once you get past that, you’re into becoming lieutenants and generals and all that. You’re probably a grunt 10th class right now or something.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“You’ll find out your class tomorrow after Arimus is done with your initiation. Unless you fail of course - then this will probably be our last conversation together.”
“Otherwise it won’t be?” James grinned, trying to put on the façade of a ladies’ man.
Catherine raised an eyebrow and laughed as she walked around him to leave the hall.
“Get some sleep,” she chuckled as he studied her.
“But I didn’t tell you my name!” he exclaimed.
“I don’t care yet!” she called back, disappearing into the gray. The throbbing of his wound increased as he smiled uneasily, hoping he had made a friend despite the rocky start. He could already hear his father’s words.
Maybe you can finally get a girlfriend.
James shook the thought out of his mind as he slowly made his way back to his temporary room. It was true that she was cute, but nothing like the angel he had envisioned his wife would be. His wife was supposed to be a voluptuous beauty of divine stature with mesmerizing eyes and a smile that could melt any man’s heart, yet out of all the suitors that came her way, she would decide to be with James and James alone - partly due to his stunning charisma and striking good looks. The other reason, a very recently acquired reason, would be because James was a Sage. A man radiating with power, strength, and rippling muscles that would make any woman swoon. A perfect match.
And something Catherine was not. Especially with the amount of freckles he had seen covering her cheeks after the make-up was removed, not to mention that he wasn’t a fan of curly hair, and she was a little feisty. Something his dream girl couldn’t possibly be. Then again, he had never really put much thought into the actual personality of his dre
am girl, but, that was a project for another time…
Still, all dreams aside, he had work to do if he was going to become a Sage. His father had sent him to join the infantry, but he didn’t care anymore for second tier. A Sage was cool, and sounded like something to aspire to - an infantryman did not. That just sounded like death. James chuckled as he decided that very moment that if he didn’t become a Sage, he would just quit the Academy and try a life elsewhere, like he had originally planned all along. As far as he was concerned, it was top notch or nothing at all.
Top notch or nothing at all…
James liked the sound of that, and nodded as he drifted off to sleep. Don’t get ahead of yourself, James, he thought. First things first. You have to prove to Arimus tomorrow you deserve to be here.
James fell asleep with confidence, unaware of Kyran’s presence, hovering on the rafters above, a predator’s glare in his eye…
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The Dark Kingdom (Book 2 of the Sage Saga)
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Of Heroes and Villains (Book #4 of the Sage Saga)
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