by Ryan Evans
The other female had the same dark hair, dark eyes, and was as pale as the major, but a thinner frame and almost delicate looking features. An inch shorter than her female counterpart, she kept her hair cut to just above shoulder length. Her dark hair and pale skin might entice some men, but when I looked at her face, her eyes spoke of cruelty that almost made me shiver.
The male lieutenant shared many of the same characteristics of the major and the pale female lieutenant I presumed to be his sister. But, where the major stooped with age, he stood tall and confident. Slightly over six feet tall, his lean build made him appear toned and muscular. He wore his hair long with a loose tie holding it back behind his ears. His appearance put me on edge for some reason, like I had to compare myself to him.
By the looks on the faces of my fellow trainees, the nobles clearly impressed them. They wore expressions of admiration and not less than a few looks of lust. I had to wonder if their aura’s or natural beauty caused everyone’s reaction.
We had all been taught about the effects of the nobles’ auras on commoners. A noble’s aura, like gravity, pulled people to them. It made those around them more likely to agree or express subservience towards them. What I saw in my classmates didn’t make sense though, because when I looked at the nobles before us, other than the inspecting gaze of the middle one, they looked either disgusted or bored. I couldn’t tell the difference, but it didn’t matter. Nothing about that attitudes or demeanors impressed me.
The colonel’s piercing gaze cut my observations short. He looked to be inspecting us as I’d been inspecting him and his compatriots. My lighter complexion stood out compared to my classmates. I also had blond hair and blue eyes where the norm for this part of the empire skewed towards tan skin with dark hair and dark or green eyes. His eyebrow twitched slightly as I held his gaze for a moment, then the moment passed and his eyes moved on to the next trainee.
As he completed his inspection, the colonel addressed the entire formation. “Trainees, my name is Colonel Karsam Silvanti. I am the leader of the Silvanti House Army and second only to my brother, House Leader Korgat Silvanti. Here with me is Major Gortros Umbra, esteemed council member of House Silvanti. We also have with us house heir Lieutenant Aaryn Silvanti, daughter of the house leader along with Major Umbra’s two children, Lieutenant Stephan Umbra and Lieutenant Saundra Umbra. I call you trainees, as until this evening you are still in training, but once your graduation ceremony is complete, I’ll proudly call you soldiers. You’ll all have earned your place as Silvanti House’s elite warriors!”
At this, all the trainees gave a unified “For Honor,” as we’d been trained to do by our instructors. Colonel Karsam seemed happy with the response, but the others didn’t seem all that interested.
“Today, you’ll all be competing against one another in both an endurance race and sparring tournament so we might get a better sense of your fitness and skill. This evening at sundown, you’ll receive your house crest, then tomorrow, we’ll be moving out to meet up with the main body of Silvanti House’s troops so you can begin your glorious new life!”
“Trainees, attention!” echoed out from each of the senior sergeants right after the colonel’s last words, and with that, our day began. They ordered the male and female formations to combine with all the instructors heading to their assigned duties. A mixture of sergeants surrounded the new formation.
Sergeant Iglias apparently had some other duty to attend to rather than going with us and cut through the group on his way out. As he passed me, in a low voice, barely above a whisper, he said, “Stop looking around like an idiot.” I could hear the feint sound of laughing as he walked away.
We started with a three-mile run before breakfast. The academy believed in the maxim “train like you fight”, so we wore full armor with our swords on our hips. Luckily, we didn’t have to carry shields for this run. Those runs had been absolute torture. Regardless of that small mercy, I still hated running.
We separated into three groups of thirty based on our past run times. Tristan and I were in the first group. I could run though I didn’t have a runner’s body like my bunkmate. At six foot one inch tall, I weighed in at two hundred fifty pounds of solid muscle. Tristan, at five foot ten inches tall, only weighed one hundred and eighty-five pounds.
In measures of strength, I had the advantage, but in running, he seemed to have unlimited endurance. I didn’t expect to beat him in this race. I did however like my chances against the other trainees lined up against me. I figured that I could make the top ten easily.
Turns out, my goal was just beyond my reach. To my surprise, in the last moments of the run, one of the female trainees passed me with enough speed I had no hope of catching back up to her. Several females had beaten me, but being passed at the very end of the race infuriated me.
Confused and angry, I thought about the race. I’d known I had more energy to give, but it didn’t translate in my performance. I wasn’t even winded. As I passed the finish line, the judging sergeant called out eleventh place. A growl of frustration automatically emanated from my throat. For some reason, everyone near me, including the sergeants, stopped talking, and all eyes focused on me for an instant. A heartbeat later, the moment was gone and everyone acted as if nothing had happened.
Irritated by not making the top ten in my group, I thought nothing of what had just happened. I kept quiet and walked with my head down towards where Tristan rested off to the side. As the first to finish, Tristan had plenty of time to find a shady spot under a tree in which to relax. As I headed in his direction, I heard a boisterous voice coming from a female sergeant to my right. “Great job Selene! Way to show the others you won’t accept defeat!”
The trainee in question, a five foot seven inch tall female, weighed maybe one hundred fifty pounds and had long, slender legs. She had brown hair cut short on her head, a tan complexion from her training in the sun, and green eyes. About the time I noticed her eye color, I realized that I was staring. She noticed. I quickly turned away, but not before I’d seen the boastful look on her face. My frustration grew as I finished covering the distance to where Tristan stood.
Tristan looked as if he hadn’t even tried during the race. He didn’t look disheveled or winded at all. In fact, he had a smirk on his face as I walked up to him. “Not even out of training yet, and you’re already trying to make a splash with the ladies, I see.” He laughed and slapped me on the back. My embarrassment kept me from seeing the humor in the situation.
Everything suddenly appeared in a much sharper focus for a moment while Tristan laughed. I shook my head to clear the sensation, but I noticed Tristan standing stock still and not making a sound. “Easy man, I’m just messing with you,” he said with a hint of fear in his voice.
“What do you mean? I know you’re just giving me a hard time,” I said, confused by the smell of fear and Tristan’s tense body language.
“Dude, your eyes just went wolf while you were looking at me, then shifted back.” he said in a cautious tone.
Nothing like having a monster staring you down to put you on edge. Even then, I’d expect Tristan’s instincts to rise to the challenge, not cower. “Sorry, I don’t know what’s going on with me today, but I’ve been out of sorts ever since the nobles got here,” I said shaking my head.
“I know what you mean, isn’t it so cool they’re here,” Tristan said without understanding my meaning.
“You really think they’re that impressive?” I asked, genuinely curious of his view. During the race, they’d watched us finish from the comfort of a shaded area with chairs placed for them. As I’d crossed the finish line, I’d looked in their direction. Most of them had the bored expressions on their faces I’d noticed during formation. The colonel watched us the same way I imagined he did livestock at auction.
“Of course they’re impressive,” Tristan almost yelled, “They are so confident and almost radiate an inner power. The two ladies have to be the two most beautiful women I’ve eve
r seen.”
He saw something I was missing and losing his volume control in the process. I felt like I was being watched and looked around to see what was bothering me. I caught Colonel Karsam and Lieutenant Aaryn staring at us, having heard some of our exchange.
The lieutenant had a disgusted look on her face, but the colonel had the same appraising gleam in his eyes as earlier. “Keep it down, unless you want to get the whip on graduation day for disrespecting an officer,” I whispered to Tristan. The thought brought him back down to earth, and he nodded. For whatever reason, the two nobles decided not to say anything, and we escaped punishment.
As we watched the last of the third group finish their run, one sergeant addressed everyone. “All right trainees, great job on the run this morning. You all gave a marvelous showing, and I’m sure your endurance impressed our officers. We’ll be moving to sparring in both hand-to-hand and weapons combat for the rest of the day. Go get breakfast then make your way to the training arena. When you get there, you’ll be handed a number. You’ll be competing in a single elimination tournament with each round’s weapon choice made randomly. The winner of the tournament will receive five copper pieces along with the glory and recognition that comes from being the best.”
Everyone seemed excited by that last bit, but I didn’t see the big deal. A half a week’s pay would be nice, but all the nobles except the colonel seemed disinterested in our progress. I headed to breakfast with Tristan as he talked about proving himself in front of the two female officers. Just like before, he started losing his volume control and spoke faster and faster in his excitement. It was going to be a long day.
Chapter 2
After breakfast things changed in a big way for me. Throughout the meal, I put up with everyone around me talking about proving themselves to be skilled soldiers to a bunch of people more worried about the dirt on their sandals than our progress. They couldn’t even be bothered to eat in a common dining hall, instead going back to their own barracks building complete with servants.
The more I heard about the greatness of these people, the more irritated I got, and the harder I had to work to keep from snapping at my classmates. After a while, my focus was barely enough to keep my inner beast from showing. I looked forward to working off my aggression in the sparring competition coming up after breakfast.
The Soltaran Empire’s style of battle had evolved from beast-kind fighting beast-kind. The different clans and kingdoms had competed fiercely amongst each other for resources for countless generations. Then, once the beast-kind were unified, and the empire established, we turned to fighting other races along with the occasional internal war.
Because of that background, soldiers were taught the value of formations and were each equipped with a large shield and short sword. In combat, we used force of numbers and strength to win the day. The front lines presented a solid mass of shields and stabbed into the gaps with their short swords. The ranks behind them covered against archers and projectile weapons, and switched out with front soldiers to keep up the battle tempo.
We held our beast forms in reserve unless they were absolutely needed. While our shifted forms were powerful, they represented a final measure. Many a beast-kind army had been defeated because they prematurely shifted.
All that being said, battles sometimes still devolved into spread out brawls. Because of that, we learned a method of one-on-one combat with and without shields as well as how to fight in beast form with weapons or tooth and claw. The battle academy threw in hand-to-hand combat for when all other options had been exhausted.
I was always a quick study and picked up the various fighting styles easier than many of my classmates. Add to that my strength, and I dominated the sparring field. Only three or four other males could compete with me.
Tristan and I headed towards the arena immediately after we finished eating. We were both excited for the upcoming tournament. It was strange; for the last six years, our training had been the model of military discipline and order. Today, they seemed to be okay treating us like regular soldiers.
Sergeants meandered around the trainees, but didn’t have us form up to march from place to place. Trainees even laughed in the dining room without being yelled at for eating too slowly. Even Iglias, who had always been rigid and no-nonsense, cracked a joke when we saw him. I noticed that we still moved with a purpose; it was just that nobody forced us to do so.
As we arrived in the arena, a sergeant handed us a piece of fabric with a number on it and two clips to fasten it to our armor. The arena wasn’t anything grand. It consisted of a central tournament area surrounded by ascending bench seating. The benches, made of rough wooden planks, accommodated two hundred people at the most. Sand, covering hard packed earth, made up the field.
Throughout our training, we’d had different sparring tournaments here for various occasions. We’d sometimes even had athletic events such as throwing, sprinting, and jumping competitions. While nothing spectacular, the arena always made my adrenaline rise. This was a place of competition and struggle; a place to test myself against others.
As I focused on the number thirty two penned to my armor and thought of competing, I almost missed the huge chalkboard on the arena wall. Tournament brackets had been drawn on the board, and two sergeants stood next to it. There were slots to write in numbers at each bracket space so you could keep up with which numbers had advanced to the next fight. The way they set it up, opponents depended on who won their matches after the first round, which went in sequential order.
After we got our numbers and took in the sights, we noticed three different fighting rings occupied the arena. Each ring had a sign above it directing those with a number within a certain range to go there.
They had given Tristan the number eight, so we parted company to stand near our assigned areas. I noticed that Sergeant Iglias and the female trainee named Selene stood in my area. The sight of her there made me think of my earlier defeat, and my heart began pounding in my chest in anticipation of the coming conflict and proving my superiority.
My reaction shocked me. That level of anticipation went beyond normal excitement. I’d always been the calm, level headed one. Something wasn’t right. I shook my head to clear the disproportionate battle lust and happened to catch Iglias looking at me.
“Trainee Valian, you all right?” he asked with an appraising eye. My inner beast even bristled at his insinuation that something might be wrong with me.
“I don’t know sergeant,” I said trying not to make eye contact, “I’m having trouble controlling my emotions this morning.” He paused at my statement. I felt his eyes boring into me, but I kept my own eyes focused just to the side of his face.
“Trainee Valian, look me in the eye.” Those words carried a weight to them as they left Iglias’s mouth. I slowly shifted my gaze the few degrees it took to meet Iglias’ gaze, but the movement took forever. As I brought my eyes in line with Iglias’s, I offhandedly noticed that we were about the same height.
Confusion clouded my mind for a moment as our eyes met. I didn’t understand the expression on his face, and then my instincts supplied an answer. His eyes were the picture of feral aggression and menace.
My inner beast responded to the challenge. Everything around me came into sharper focus and I knew my eyes had shifted again without my conscious effort.
Power and heat surged through my body, struggling to get out and cause violence. Fire ran through my veins instead of blood. I’d been shifting forms since the age of sixteen. While strange sensations and pain always accompanied the shift, I had never experienced this. A part of me knew if I allowed this shift to happen, Iglias wouldn’t survive it. I tried as hard as I could to hold it back.
From our first shift at age sixteen, they taught us to control our inner beast. It embodied our savage side, our primal instinct, the piece of us to be unleashed on our enemies. It also served as our base survival instinct.
We were taught that if we ever complete
ly lost control, we would become nothing more than animals driven by whatever emotion had led us to that point. That berserker state would remain until we calmed ourselves and shifted back to our human forms. In order to prevent that, conditioning drills were designed to anger and frustrate us and then have us think logically to complete a task. We also underwent physical training where we suffered minor injuries but had to stay in control of our emotions.
None of those past training drills mattered at the moment. I fought two battles within myself. The first struggle was against the impulse to accept his challenge. Strength I had never experienced before surged through my body and screamed to be used. His defeat was a certainty. The second struggle was to keep from shifting. My inner beast craved his blood.
In my fight to control myself, I stood as still as possible, my muscles tense, locking my body in place and trying to prevent violence. I registered something in Iglias’s eyes that made my inner struggle that much harder: fear. In my mind, he transformed from brazen challenger to a combination of challenger and prey.
Iglias realized his mistake in showing fear to a predator. It only lasted for a moment, but the damage had been done. I was about to lose control. Iglias was going to die, and at my hand. Just when my resistance crumbled, he did something unexpected. He kneeled on one leg and lowered his head, exposing his neck.
His submission gave me pause. He had no defense, nor would he be able to see his death coming. The anger bled away as he made himself vulnerable. The boldness of his action gave me the chance I needed to hold back my monster.
A slight breeze cut my inner turmoil short. My sense of smell alerted me to a new presence nearby. Until that moment, my attention had been on Iglias, and my surroundings had been an unfocused blur. The scent on the breeze had a strength to it, and before I could place it, Colonel Karsam stepped in front of Sergeant Iglias, blocking my view of the kneeling man.