The following week at Gʻade Academy, the great bell rang earlier than usual.
Students shuffled into the stone lecture hall, parchment and ink ready. The air carried that familiar tension of examination day. Even the loudest cadets seemed quieter.
Master Halveth stood at the front, arms behind his back.
"Today," he announced, "you will be tested on the KuMazalect War. Thirty questions. Some simple. Some not."
Klaude straightened immediately, a confident spark in his eyes.
Yoren felt his stomach sink.
Elesa simply dipped her quill in ink and waited calmly.
The parchments were passed down the rows.
"Begin."
The scratching of quills filled the hall.
Klaude read the first question and smirked faintly.
In what year was the Treaty of Resistance signed?
He wrote without hesitation: 809 N.R.
Yoren stared at the same question.
"809… yes, it was 809…" he whispered under his breath, pressing ink carefully to parchment.
Who were the two kings that formed the alliance?
Klaude's quill barely paused.
King Philemetrus and King Bernard Ryph.
Yoren chewed lightly on the edge of his lip.
"Philemetrus of Dazalect… Bernard of Kuvec… yes… yes…"
He wrote slowly, making sure each letter was clear.
Elesa's hand moved smoothly, almost gracefully. She did not rush, but neither did she hesitate.
What was the main purpose of the Treaty of Resistance?
Klaude smiled slightly as he answered. To prevent war between the two kingdoms and ensure mutual military support.
Yoren read it twice.
"Prevent war… support each other in war…" he muttered, then began writing, though he crossed out one sentence before settling on another.
Who was the assassin responsible for forcing the betrayal?
Klaude wrote Omero of Guild Vortex.
Yoren paused.
"Omero… yes… the assassin… Guild Vortex…" He frowned, then scribbled the name carefully, hoping he spelled it correctly.
What threat did Omero use to manipulate King Philemetrus?
Klaude answered instantly. The kidnapping and threatened execution of his daughter.
Yoren exhaled slowly, remembering the story vividly. That part he would not forget.
What was the name of the war that followed?
KuMazalect War.
Klaude's ink flowed steadily.
Yoren blinked at the long name, whispering it softly as though it might rearrange itself.
"Ku… Ma… zalect…"
He wrote it carefully, slightly uneven.
Question after question followed.
How long did the war last?
Which kingdom initiated the first strike?
Why did King Philemetrus not reveal the truth publicly?
What was the outcome of the final duel?
Klaude moved like a seasoned soldier crossing familiar terrain. His posture relaxed. He even leaned back slightly at one point, rereading answers with quiet confidence.
Yoren, however, questioned nearly every line.
"Was it twelve years… or thirteen? No, twelve… it must be twelve…"
"Did Bernard demand answers before fighting? Yes… yes, Master Halveth said so…"
"Was it open field? Or near the capital? Open field… I think…"
His parchment grew slightly smudged from erased ink and rewritten words.
Elesa's expression never shifted much. She paused when necessary, tapping her quill lightly against her lip, then continued with composed certainty.
By question fifteen, Klaude was already halfway done.
Yoren was only just reaching question ten.
Sweat gathered lightly at his temple.
What were the economic consequences of the war?
Name one province severely affected by the conflict.
Describe Bernard Ryph's famous quote.
That one made Yoren pause longer.
He could hear it in his mind clearly.
Why does war exist? When kingdoms can just support each other.
He wrote it carefully, almost reverently.
By question twenty-five, Klaude placed his quill down briefly and stretched his fingers. He scanned his work with sharp eyes, correcting only one minor detail.
Elesa turned her final page and finished the thirtieth question with a soft breath.
Yoren reached question twenty-eight.
His thoughts tangled.
"Was it Guild Vortex before the betrayal… yes, yes…"
He scratched out half a sentence and rewrote it more neatly.
The final two questions felt heavier than they should have.
In your opinion, could the war have been avoided?
What lesson should future commanders learn from the KuMazalect War?
Yoren stared at the parchment for a long moment.
Klaude had already written with firm strokes, likely speaking of strength and foresight.
Elesa's quill moved slower here, thoughtful but composed.
Yoren's chest tightened slightly, not from the plague, but from doubt.
He began writing.
Yes, perhaps it could have been avoided, if truth had been shared sooner. If pride had not guided swords. If fear had not cornered a king.
For the final question, his hand steadied.
Future commanders must remember that even alliances built on trust can break under pressure. That peace must be guarded as fiercely as borders. And that the cost of silence can be greater than the cost of honesty.
When Master Halveth called time, Yoren felt drained.
The parchments were collected.
Outside the hall, Klaude stretched confidently. "That was simple."
Yoren gave him a look. "Simple?"
"History is strategy written in the past," Klaude replied. "If you understand it, you can see the pattern."
Elesa smiled gently at Yoren. "You overthink."
"I do not," Yoren protested weakly.
"You rewrite every answer in your mind before finishing it," she teased. "You doubt yourself even when you are correct."
Klaude clapped a hand on Yoren's shoulder. "If the war had required second-guessing instead of swords, you would have ended it in a week."
Yoren laughed despite himself.
A few days later, Master Halveth returned the results.
"Klaude Will," he announced, "thirty out of thirty."
A murmur spread through the room.
Klaude did not grin widely, but pride showed clearly in his eyes.
"Elesa of Westbrook," the instructor continued, "twenty-nine out of thirty. Well reasoned."
Elesa inclined her head slightly, graceful even in success.
"Yoren," Master Halveth said last, "twenty-five out of thirty."
Yoren blinked, surprised.
It was not perfect. But it was far better than he had feared.
"Your answers show depth," the instructor added. "You doubt yourself too much."
Klaude leaned over and whispered, "I told you."
Elesa smiled at him warmly.
As they left the hall together, the tension of the test dissolved into laughter.
"You see?" Klaude said. "You question every line as though the parchment might betray you."
Yoren shook his head, smiling. "And you answer as though you were there when it happened."
"Perhaps I was," Klaude replied dramatically.
Elesa rolled her eyes, though her laughter joined theirs.
The war they had studied was tragic, heavy with loss and regret.
But in that moment, walking beneath the open sky of Gʻade Academy, they were simply three young students with ink-stained fingers and dreams still untouched by real battle.
And for now, that was enough.