Control Comes from Within

Last night was…amazing. I had no idea you could even do that! You have to show me again! I didn’t even know you could get invincibility frames just by going through the grass! And what was that trick with the boost pads, where you –

Knock knock knock.

Honey, how do you like your coffee? Cream and two sugars! You know black is the best way to have it, right? Chocolate mousse? Sure, no problem, how about we –

Knock knock knock knock.

Oh, that’s probably the concierge, don’t move, I’ll be right back.

Knock knock knock knock knock –

“Ugh, I’m up, I’m up, stop pounding on that damn door already.”

I half-rolled out of bed, stumbling towards the door, the ecstasy from the quickly fading remnants of my dream replaced by a simmering annoyance at whoever was on the opposite side of the door.

As I pulled the door open, I came face to face with a stern-looking woman, her eyes looked me over and some form of disapproval crept onto her face.

“You are Citizen Rhaaj of Khobadaar, first-year student?” she asked in a harsh tone.

“Yeah, that’s –” I involuntarily let out a long and protracted yawn. “What do you want?” I managed to ask her in my half-asleep state, as I lazily scratched the back of my head.

“Your presence will be required in the headmaster’s office in two hours. Correction, one hour and fifty-three minutes,” she amended her statement while looking at a card that looked similar to my own. “Do not push the limits of the headmaster’s tolerance,” she said, her tone dripping with something like disdain, as she discarded her official tone for something more personal. “I hope for your own sake, you do not present yourself as slovenly as you do now. You may not care about face, but looking like this disgraces yourself, and more importantly, the academy. If there’s one thing the academy has too much of, it’s lowbo–”

She stopped talking abruptly, as she turned around to leave, but not without leaving a final warning.

“The headmaster’s office, two hours. Do not be late, student Rhaaj.”

I watched her go with heavy eyes, as I yawned once more before stretching my arms and returning to my room. All it took was a quick wash of my face and I was somewhat alive again. Looking at my face in the mirror above the sink, I could see dark bags under my bloodshot eyes.

Well, doesn’t that just make for a great first impression.

I looked out the window and noticed how late it was. Although the sun wasn’t visible, hidden by grey clouds and a slow cascade of snowflakes, it was bright enough that I could tell the sunrise had long since passed. It was rare that I woke up so late, but the combination of my lack of progress with the taming research, and the subsequent distraction that was me taking any task I could, led to me pulling an all-nighter for no good reason. Hence my late wakeup and…what did that woman say? Slovenly appearance?

Well, that was easily rectified.

One morning routine later, and I was showered, shaved, and dressed to impress. I got the feeling that my summons to the headmaster’s office was regarding a somewhat serious matter, so I dressed a bit more formally than I would have liked. Even if it turned out to be not the case, there was nothing wrong with changing my usual outfit once in a while.

Shiny leather boots that came up to my knee, long silk pants that ended at the top of my boots, and a light green tunic with floral designs around the shoulders. I didn’t have a full-length mirror, but what I could see from the smaller one in the bathroom looked rather well put together.

All my Earth clothes were safely tucked away in my beast space. Whatever else they were, they were the only things I had left of my home, and I didn’t want to see them lost or destroyed due to a moment of carelessness.

With everything ready, I got my usual satchel full of notebooks, quills and ink, and headed to the headmaster’s office. I had my student card hung around a string on my neck as it rested near my chest. And a book on combat theory from the library in my bag. I needed something to do to pass the time, and reading it would at least be considered somewhat productive.

I made my way to the administration building, taking the stairs to the headmaster’s office on a higher floor. I waited outside the door alone, as there was no one else nearby, student or staff. I sat down on a nearby bench and settled into a comfortable position while I started skimming through the book.

Strength. Speed. Control. Balance. Should any aspect be absent, the likelihood of dying increases accordingly.

….

Combat, like the march of time itself, is indifferent to the suffering of any individual. Victory or defeat are oftentimes decided before a blade is even drawn. Combat is ever changing and dynamic, whether it is two ants biting the other over a leaf, or two armies slaughtering each other for whatever cause their leaders proclaim. The Western Continent is fortunate in that we have not suffered under many wars, outside of the earliest records of our ancestors, tribal nomads clashing against one another. It is possible our ancestors knew that war was capable of bringing forth nothing but calamity, and sought to distance themselves from it, seeking a less violent way of resolving conflicts.

….

The Great Enemy, fell beings whose true origins remain unclear, brought with them only death and suffering. For all that our ancestors eschewed war, they recognized its necessity when their survival was threatened.

….

Footwork is key, as maintaining proper form ensures balance. As the weapon being wielded can vary, so too do the stances you must hold. The stances are simple enough to learn, but like most things, they require repetition to truly understand and utilize them properly.

…

Allies can betray you at pivotal moments. The sword in your hand can shatter from a wayward blow. Your armor can be pierced by a well-timed arrow. Even the weather can shift unexpectedly. In combat, take nothing for granted. Even a shift in the arrangement of pebbles on the ground can lead to the death of a dragon. And you are no dragon, now are you?

…

For those with leaner builds, it is suggested that speed be their primary focus as their forms are more suited to it, and hence their choice of weapons should complement that focus. Daggers, shortswords, or more exotic weapons such as the whip or khopesh are considered viable options.

Naturally, those of bulkier stature should similarly capitalize on their strength, –

“Student Rhaaj, you may enter now,” a pleasant sounding voice informed me. I looked up to see a young woman wearing the academy’s staff uniform standing just outside the door to the headmaster’s office, holding it open for me.

I put my book away, and got to my feet, eager to find out why I had been summoned. I had only taken a few steps into the office when the door shut behind me, the woman on the other side of the door standing in front of it. Maybe she’s standing guard? Though I don’t see the need for it…

The interior of the headmaster’s office was as subtle as ever, but unlike the last time I was here, there were far fewer people. I was the only student, and sitting across from me were the headmaster, the vice head whom I had met before, and surprisingly enough, the woman who so rudely woke me up this morning. The two heads were going back and forth while consulting a piece of paper, and the stern woman took one look at me, squinted, then promptly ignored me in favor of going through some documents in front of her.

The headmaster’s desk had magically been stretched out so that it was long enough to comfortably seat all three of them on one side, leaving a single chair on the other end for me.

“We can resume our discussion later,” the headmaster whispered.

The vice head surreptitiously glanced in my direction before he responded, “...Fine, fine, later then.”

The headmaster nodded, and rearranged the piles of paper on the desk until a single one landed in front of him. He continued looking at it for a few moments until his attention fell onto me as he said, “You may be seated, student Rhaaj.” I took the invitation to sit, and instantly noticed the quality of the chair matched that of the rest of the room. It was just comfortable enough to make me distracted for a moment.

“You may begin now, Lady Erita,” the headmaster said. At his prompt, the stern woman, Lady Erita apparently, brandished a quill and after holding its tip in an inkwell for a few moments, lay it on the paper in front of her.

“Now, student Rhaaj. Your academic performance this past year has been exemplary, truly surpassing most expectations of students, and thus you have qualified for an academic scholarship, as well as the possibility of transferring,” the headmaster started saying.

The stern woman’s quill was writing in front of her, transcribing everything the headmaster had said so far.

“Regarding the scholarship, your fees henceforth would be reduced by half, but only on the condition your performance remains among the top fifty students of your year. Would you accept such a proposal?” headmaster Leywinlook asked.

“I would, absolutely. With such a scholarship, I wouldn’t need to spend as much time working to pay for the fees, and I could use that time to study instead,” I said. I was telling them what they wanted to hear, but in all honesty, it depended on how difficult the materials would be. If it was harder than expected, then sure, I’d need to study more. If it turned out to be easier than I thought, then, well, I hadn’t figured that part out yet, but the option remained.

“Good, good. Moving on, then. As I’ve recently been made aware,” the headmaster said, giving a sharp side look to the vice head, “You’ve been informed about the possibility of transferring from our campus to our tier 1 parent academy. Is that correct?”

“...I was only aware of the possibility, headmaster. From what I recall, transfers occur…infrequently.” I responded, a small bubble of anticipation swelling within me.

“Indeed, indeed. However, you have met and I daresay, exceeded the criteria needed for a student to transfer. That infrequent occurrence is now a very possible option for you,” he said.

A transfer to the tier 1 academy meant better…everything. Books, clothes, taming opportunities, materials. It was a no-brainer.

Well, except for that one glaringly obvious issue.

“Headmaster, one of the qualifications for a transfer wouldn’t happen to be combat ability, would it?” I asked somewhat nervously. I didn’t want to transfer, only to get sucked into fighting those monsters every day.

“Ability? No. No matter how much talent or training you have, your combat ability is never enough for that first time. But talent can be replaced by effort and time, and training is a constant if you’re wise enough to understand its necessity. No, student Rhaaj, combat ability is not one of the criteria we judge for. But willingness? Now, that’s an entirely different animal. And all of us in this room know you most certainly have that.”

…I knew they knew, but the question remains, to what degree? If they knew everything, I’d probably be dead or locked up, so the worst hasn’t happened yet, but…

“Forgive my interruption, headmaster, but I’m not familiar with what you’re referring to.”

I couldn’t help it. A small snicker escaped my lips, and the stern woman whose lips were pursed tightly looked at me with if not hatred then a massive amount of dislike on her face.

“Student Rhaaj, compose yourself. Lady Erita, the student sitting before us has survived multiple encounters with the Great Enemy –” The vice head took over explaining before he was interrupted.

“WHAT?! Impossible! This, he’s just…” She screamed in shock and also …in denial?

Who even is this woman? I assumed she worked for the academy, but if she doesn’t know about my past like the head and vice head do, then who does she work for and what is she doing here?

The pieces clicked together as an increasingly clear memory of earlier that morning floated to the front of my mind. The next words that came out of my mouth were dripping with irony.

“You can say it again, my lady. You’re not even wrong. I’m just a lowborn, filthy, peasant.”

At those words, she jumped to her feet with more anxiety than the situation called for. She whipped her head toward the other two staff members, her eyes bugged out and her voice insistent. “Headmaster, he’s lying! I’ve never done or said anything even remotely close to what that student said!”

“Sigh, student Rhaaj, would you be so kind as to hand over your student card?” The headmaster requested politely, his hand outstretched.

Despite my confusion, I played along and took my card off my neck and handed it to him. The next thing I knew, he was poking it repeatedly until I heard a familiar scene play out.

“Ugh, I’m up, I’m up, stop pounding on that damn door already.”

“You are Citizen Rhaaj of Khobadaar, first-year student?”

“Yeah, that’s –” A long yawn punctuated the sentence. “What do you want?”

From there, the recording (what else could it possibly be?) kept playing back the dialogue of a few hours prior until it reached the pivotal moment.

“You may not care about face, but looking like this disgraces yourself, and more importantly, the academy. If there’s one thing the academy has too much of, it’s lowbo–”

The recording immediately stopped as silence reigned throughout the room.

For my part, I was just glad my paranoia was proven right, even more so that it apparently screwed over a biased and prejudiced elitist.

The headmaster shook his head before speaking in a deceptively calm tone. “Lady Erita, I would strongly suggest you stay silent for the remainder of this meeting. We will discuss today’s events with Lord Jyvra personally. Know that you have shamed yourself, the academy, and your patrons. Now, sit down and shut up.”

A vaguely familiar scene replayed itself, as the lady was sent stumbling back into her seat while clutching her head and groaning.

….Right, when they picked me up from Khobadaar, that performer guy did the same thing.

I made a mental note to write an actual note about the ability, and to research it later. If I could learn to use it in the future, I would.

“Now, back to the matter at hand. Where was I?”

“His willingness, headmaster,” the vice head replied impassively.

“Yes, yes, willingness. Naturally, there is a certain amount of risk in transferring. Am I correct in saying that the academy can rely on your willingness to fight should the need arise?” the headmaster continued.

This was likely the inflection point where my choice would significantly impact my future. I balanced the pros and cons of the situation, and while I knew what choice I would make, I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of regret.

As a great person once said, “The best way out is always through.”

With that in mind, I replied, “Of course, headmaster. At the very least, if the situation was that dire, I doubt retreat would even be an option.”

“Splendid! So, once more, for the official record. Student Rhaaj, do you accept transferring to our tier 1 parent academy, with all the rights and responsibilities befitting a scholarship student?”

“Yes,” I said honestly, thoughtlessly deciding to inject a little bit of fun into the proceedings, “I, student Rhaaj of Khobadaar City, being of sound mind and body, and without duress from any third party, honestly swear to uphold the conditions previously stated as befitting my status as a transfer and scholarship student.”

There were a few moments of quiet before an unexpected voice spat out, “Where the fuck did someone like you learn to talk like that?”

“Speak like that, Lady Erita. Speak. Honestly, I’m beginning to wonder which of us is the noble and which is the lowborn peasant.” I replied vindictively.

The scratching of the quill stopped as the last words left my mouth, its owner’s face twisted by anger.