Kethan barely slipped past the punch aimed at his jaw. He stepped in immediately, driving his fist toward his opponent's liver. Only for it to be caught and blocked by a pale forearm at the last second.
He exhaled sharply and stepped back, hands still raised, and eyes focused.
They had been fighting for nearly half an hour now. Both of them were breathing heavily, sweat clinging to their skin, movements slower than when they had first stepped onto the mat. Every movement took effort now. But neither of them were willing to stop first.
"Come on," Armodius said, rolling his shoulders as he waited for the next attack. He had grown even taller since the day they first met, his presence filling the space effortlessly. "Had enough already? It's our last day here. You could at least try to enjoy it."
"Pretty sure we're both at the top of the class," Kethan replied, stepping back in without hesitation. "Which means I'll be dealing with you for another three years. I don't see what there is to enjoy about that."
He threw two sharp punches toward Armodius's head. Both were dodged with ease. Then he followed with a low kick aimed at the thigh.
Armodius tensed for a moment as the kick connected, discomfort flashing across his face, but he didn't falter. He countered instantly with a punch toward Kethan's ribs: blocked. Another aimed at his head missed as well, but Kethan raised his guard instinctively.
He misread Armodius' feint. In the next instant, a sharp kick landed against his side, driving into his liver. It wasn't delivered with full power, but pain exploded through him. He sucked in a sharp breath, staggering back a step, teeth clenched. His vision blurred for just a second.
[Stupid, you saw it coming, damnit.]
He forced himself forward again, after calming down. They continued striking, blocking, and countering for another fifteen minutes, both of them pushing past exhaustion, until their bodies finally gave in. They collapsed onto the sparring mat, drenched in sweat, chests rising and falling heavily.
"Be honest with me," Armodius said between breaths, "if we're both in the top twenty and we probably are, you'll choose swordsmanship, won't you?"
"I will." Kethan answered without hesitation. "So will you. Which means we'll keep doing this until we're twenty."
Armodius turned his head slightly, surprised. "How'd you know? You've briefly talked to me about becoming a knight, sure, but I never told you, or anyone else what I planned to study."
Kethan stared at the ceiling, refusing to yield to sleep.
"You didn't have to. Obviously you don't want to follow your family's path," he said, "so strategy is out. You've also stated that you didn't want to be a pilot. That leaves assassination, marksmanship, and swordsmanship."
Armodius remained silent.
"You're as good a shot as I am," he continued, "but you've said guns are cowardly. Beneath a noble."
Armodius let out a faint chuckle.
"And assassination," Kethan added, disgust creeping into his voice, "you once said getting your hands dirty without glory was a commoner's job. That leaves only swordsmanship." He finished. "The one field you'll never surpass me in."
The Noble laughed openly this time, the sound sharp enough to send a chill across the room.
[Nobles really are disgusting.]
"You know me better than I expected," Armodius said. "Don't you think this finally establishes our bond of friendship?"
"Wouldn't call it friendship," Kethan replied, biting back the harsher response forming in his mind. No matter how much he wanted to say it, Armodius was still a High Noble, likely the future Marquis of Viremont. There were limits to what he could afford.
"I'm gonna get ready for the graduation ceremony." Kethan said as he struggled to stand back up. "You should do the same."
Armodius smirked. "I'll miss this place. Made many fond memories here. Mostly of beating the hell out of you."
Kethan returned the smirk and left the training room, the place where he had pushed himself harder than anywhere else over the past year.
As he walked back toward the barracks, his thoughts drifted, as always.
[I've been either first or second in every subject, except mathematics.]
He had always been terrible at it, even back in the orphanage. He never understood why soldiers needed math, but the other cadets, especially the nobles, noticed his weakness quickly. And they would never forget a weakness like that.
Most of the nobles hated him for beating them as a commoner. Only a few didn't — Elio, Armodius, Raijin and a handful of others who merely tolerated him. He kept his distance regardless. Even after spending a whole year with his fellow cadets, both commoners and Nobles, his opinion on relationships and bonds barely shifted. Yet there still was improvement—at least he tolerated them now.
Even the instructors were divided. Some openly despised him. Others treated him fairly, but none truly wanted him to succeed. No matter what he achieved, he would always be a slum-born low commoner in their eyes.
[When generations are brainwashed by foolish ideals—like believing genetics define your fate—it leaves an eternal scar on society. A scar can be hidden, covered or become invisible to the human eye. But no matter how well it's concealed, it always remains.]
When Kethan had entered the academy's trials, it wasn't to win. Anyone could enter and everyone was encouraged to. The trials only existed to determine who stood at the top.
[I wanted to prove something back then, I still do.]
********
When he reached the barracks, two familiar faces greeted him.
"Kethan!" Elio said brightly. "Ready to graduate? You're top of the class, you'd be one of the first commoners to become a knight."
Raijin, standing beside him, leaned forward slightly. "I'm just hoping to make the top twenty. Even that'd be enough to gratify me." He paused, then smiled. "And you'll probably be the second commoner in history to graduate first place. Congrats."
"Thanks." Kethan said dryly. "What time is it?"
"Half past one," Raijin replied. "You should hurry up. The ceremony starts in thirty minutes."
"Wouldn't want to give Peragelus an excuse to scold you for the millionth time." Elio added, his expression slightly worried.
Kethan immediately rushed to the showers, leaving the other two staring after him. He couldn't show up smelling like sweat or even worse like the streets and alleys he grew up in, even if they were all he had ever known.
As the water ran over his body, drenched in sweat and engulfed in bruises, Raijin's words echoed in his mind.
[Second commoner in history.]
Other commoners who had risen through the ranks had done so as privates, not even entering the IMU, climbing slowly over the years. Barely any of them had become knights, the few that did could be counted on one hand.
[My efforts will pay off] He always kept telling himself. And yet, he would become a knight for the empire he despised, that would be the reward for those efforts. [I'll keep being a prisoner of the empire no matter what I do, but at least I'll have a better cell now. Is a larger fucking cell with a nicer view really worth risking my own life for the empire? Is it worth betraying, possibly oppressing the people who come where I come from? Where I was born, grew up and learned the realities of this life.]
The thoughts refused to leave him, not just now, but for the past year. Now, however, wasn't the time to dwell on his decision, he couldn't go back anymore, not even if he wanted to.
He got out the shower, dried off quickly and went to his locker. His ceremonial uniform waited inside—the red military tunic, bearing the Imperial symbol stood out between the black clothes around it.
For a moment, while changing, he wondered if his parents would have been proud of what he's doing. But he shook the agonizing thought away. He dressed and left quickly. Wasting his small amount of time was a luxury he couldn't afford at that moment.
As he walked through the halls at a faster pace than usual, memories of the past year surfaced— painful ones, exhausting ones, but also moments that weren't entirely miserable. For the first time in his life, he had spent a full year that wasn't completely unbearable. Which was unexpected to say the least.
"Mr. Ardane," a familiar android voice said as he nearly collided with it. "I would advise you to hurry. You are likely to be the last to arrive."
A black and white service-android, with a square-shaped head stood before him. The android was thin, with four arms coming from its torso. Two of its arms were occupied—a glasstab in one and cleaning product in the other.
"I'll be on time K2." Kethan replied.
One thing he liked about androids was that they didn't judge him. They weren't programmed to care about birth or bloodlines. Sometimes he wondered if humans needed the same treatment. Reprogramming.
"Please hurry, sir." K2 added. "You wouldn't want to be late, especially as the star of the ceremony."
Kethan grinned faintly.
[K2 might have slipped up there. Did he really just confirm the rumors?I really did it.] He thought to himself, feeling something unfamiliar, was it … pride?
He hurried to the massive doors of the ceremonial hall, the frame was clad in black marble and there was a vast network of red and gold accents on its black oak surface. Kethan entered the ceremonial hall, the same one where the year had begun. But now, an immense stage stood at the front.
He walked toward the back row, the section reserved for commoners, and took his place there. He stood straight, shoulders squared, exuding confidence with a touch of pride. Even though he felt like he didn't deserve to stand in the back after all the drudgery. Still, he knew that in only a few moments, he'd be called forward. For once, he wouldn't be looking up at the nobles from below, he would stand among them. No, he'd be above them now. They would be the ones looking up at him. For the first time in his life, he would finally shine among these so-called stars.
Shortly after his entrance, Master Peragelus entered the hall. Kethan had made it just in time.
"Listen up, cadets." He said, his voice carrying easily through the vast hall. "You have completed this year and forged yourselves into something greater than you once were. Stronger in body, sharper in mind, and steadier in spirit. Through discipline, hardship, and perseverance, you have proven your worth. I, along with every other Master, am proud to declare that each of you is now worthy to stand among the soldiers of the Empire." He paused, letting the words sink in. "That being said, only twenty of you will be allowed to join the Imperial Military University and reach the true summit of our armed forces. This year's elite twenty has been … unusual, but every position was earned and fought for."
Kethan grinned faintly at those last words. [Well, he clearly doesn't like the fact that an untrained commoner outperformed generations of trained nobles.]
"Now," Peragelus continued, "for our elite twenty … In the twentieth spot: Isavelia of House Augesius. Step forward."
Cheers and applause broke out immediately. Isavelia was one of the few girls to reach the top twenty, and many cadets clearly admired her for it.
"Nineteenth spot: Auro of House Silvestra. Eighteenth spot: Raijin Raymora …"
The list went on, names echoing through the hall as one cadet after another stepped onto the prestigious stage, and applause echoed through the hall. Kethan barely registered most of them. His focus narrowed. He was waiting for the top three.
"At third place," Peragelus announced, "and top of the class in the subject of strategy: Elio of House Capesios. You may join us on the stage."
The applause was loud and sincere. Kethan allowed himself a brief glance at Elio, who looked both proud and slightly overwhelmed. Elio his popularity, with both commoners and nobles alike, had grown exponentially this last year. And it showed.
"At second place," Peragelus continued, his voice rising, "coming from one of the Empire's most prestigious houses: Armodius of House Luxaeten."
The cheering grew even louder, bordering on desperate. Many of the cadets clapped as if their lives depended on it, eager to be noticed by the High Nobility.
"And finally," Peragelus said, his tone tightening slightly, "at first place, Kethan Ardane. Step forward."
The applause was noticeably thinner this time. Only a few clapped with genuine enthusiasm, they were those who didn't despise him. Kethan stepped onto the stage regardless.
On the outside, his expression remained neutral and disciplined, his posture flawless. On the inside, something burned fiercely in his chest. For the first time in his life, he felt something close to actual triumph. He loved, no he adored the feeling more than anything else, the feeling of these nobles being defeated by one of his kin. The fact that they felt so defeated at his success, gave him more pleasure than any form of positive recognition ever could.
When all twenty stood together, Master Peragelus and the other instructors saluted them. They returned the salute in unison.
"You twenty are the top of this class and our empire's proud future." Peragelus declared. "You will be allowed to join the university and help forge the future of our military. You will be our Empire's new symbols of order, justice and prosperity. Congratulations to you all."
Then he turned to face the remaining cadets, his voice hardening.
"As for the rest of you, you did not perform at the level required for the Military University. That does not mean you will never attend. If you complete two years of service, those of noble lineage may apply to join afterward." His gaze swept coldly across the commoners. "The rest of you will have to accept your bloodlines, serve the military and wait out your promotions."
There was no sympathy in his voice. None at all.
"Now," he finished, "you're all dismissed to prepare for tonight's formal reception. Afterwards, you will all receive two weeks of paid leave before beginning either your University studies or your military service."
********
Later, while Kethan packed his belongings among the noise of departing cadets, Elio appeared beside him, leaning against the wall with an easy smile.
"So," Elio said, folding his surprisingly muscular arms, "how long do you think it'll take before they ship us somewhere unpleasant?"
Kethan didn't look up from the bag he was tightening. "Depends," he said. "On whether they see us as useful … or expendable."
Elio chuckled softly. "You always did have a comforting way of looking at things." Kethan finally glanced at him. "You're the one who chose this career."
"True," Elio admitted. "Though I'm hoping the first few years will involve less dying and more paperwork."
"Sounds like you."
Elio grinned. "Strategic posts have their advantages. Maps, reports, quiet offices. Someone has to plan the battles while the rest of you fight them. But look on the bright side, at least we're neutral in the galactic war, so you're not dying for the Liberty Union or the Zymerians."
Kethan closed his bag. "Who said I planned on dying?" He murmured. "Still chasing glory, huh?" Elio asked with a smile across his face.
"Not glory." Elio studied him for a moment, curiosity flickering in his eyes. "Then what?" Kethan lifted the bag over his shoulder. "Opportunity."
Elio exhaled through his nose. "Right. I should've guessed." He pushed himself away from the wall. "I'm heading to the city before tonight's ceremony. I refuse to show up to my own graduation dressed like a cadet. Plus, I haven't seen real streets in a year." Kethan nodded. "I'll see you tonight."
Elio started walking, then turned back briefly. "Don't disappear before the ceremony," he said. "I'd like at least one familiar face before our lives get confused by studying and battles afterwards."
A faint smile touched Kethan's mouth. "See you tonight, my lord." Elio rolled his eyes and waved him off as he left.
The sarcasm was obvious, Kethan would never use honorifics if they weren't necessary, Elio didn't take offense. He never did. He wasn't like other nobles, he didn't look down on commoners. That was the only reason Kethan tolerated him. Not as a friend, but as an acquaintance. Someone who might be useful one day. He still wasn't ready for a true friendship with anyone. Not yet.
Kethan finished packing his bag after Elio departed. It was noticeably smaller than those of the nobles he had lived with all year. Afterward, he picked up his entrance card for the upper districts. It would be his first time entering the city beyond the slums, outside of some training of course. He felt a faint smile tug at his lips. It was small, but real.
Before leaving the barracks, he looked back one last time. Memories of the past year flooded his mind. For the first time, he realized something strange. [It wasn't that bad, maybe even good and I think … I think I might miss it.] It was better than every year he had spent in the orphanage.
At last, he stepped out of the colossal structure, its white stone and steel towering behind him. He walked down the marble steps to the eloquent golden gates in front of him, and showed his entrance card to the Military Policemen who were guarding the exits. They let him through without question. At last, he would enter the place he had dreamed of for years. The Higher Zones.
He had climbed the ladder, closer to the wealthy life he'd dreamed of. There was still a long way to go, he knew this. But even so, this was an achievement. A great one.
He walked to the nearby station and boarded a train toward the shopping district. He intended to buy his first suit for tonight's reception—spending his first earned Aurels. Even the thought of owning a suit felt unreal. But just as he stepped inside, a sudden thought stopped him.
He immediately exited the train, hurrying to another platform. There was something he had to do first. Something that needed to be concluded.
He switched to a train heading in the opposite direction and took a seat near the front. Moments later, an android voice echoed through the carriage.
"Next stop: Western Area of the Lower Zones, Sharjia."
Kethan leaned back slightly. Before stepping into his future, he needed closure with his past. He needed to confront it. One last time.