Steven bandaged his bleeding arm, listening to the conversations of the other trainees. He finally recognised the girl with the twin blades, Alicia Von Eternus. On reflection, he should’ve remembered the name, considering he’d heard of the highly esteemed Eternus family on more than one occasion. The heavily armoured support guy he recognised as Varkasaan, and the dwarf woman he remembered as Dysmoria. They naturally gravitated around Alicia, it seemed, as she was the one who took control after the captain was taken down. The fight… Steven wasn’t sure what to think of the events that had just unfolded.

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During the fight, Steven had almost ran out of arrows, and while all had hit their mark and that was considered a good thing, it did little to rid the bad taste in Steven's mouth. Sometime after he began shooting, he noticed that the bandits were almost literally running into the recruits' swords with no regard for their safety. He had soon realised that this wasn't a fight, but he hadn't been sure what it was any more. Was it attrition? A diversion? A test? Steven saw a hand behind it, but he couldn't see who it belonged to. It made him feel sick, and it felt like his actions and the actions of all the trainees were pointless, because there was ultimately no reason for this 'battle' to happen. But the worst part of it was the feeling of pointlessness, a feeling he was very familiar with.

Being a commoner adopted into a noble house, he was used to feeling out of loop. He was forced to adopt the noble ways and to shrug off the mantle of poverty, which he did fairly well. But despite his best efforts to conform to his new role in life, most of the people around him seemed to see him as a stain which would never disappear, and Steven tried to change their mind. He tried to prove that he could be like them, he could blend in and be with them. He made progress, too. He matched their mannerisms, their etiquette, their fashion. He devoted most of his young life to fitting in. But despite his best efforts, it was fruitless. They would forever see him as the commoner boy adopted out of the lord's goodwill.

What he had done during the battle was ultimately the same. The same as what his foster father described his trips to rural villages to be. A whole lot of effort to end up nowhere.

But there were other things he was worried about, things that made him question whether or not he should’ve joined the Luminous knights. It was the mages, the very enemies that the Luminous knights fought against. The very beings that Steven himself had been groomed to fight. Everyone around him had been groomed to fight them, yet Steven wasn’t sure if he wanted to.

After the battle ended, there was a clamour, and Steven observed quietly from the roof of the caravan. He saw a flash of a strange tattoo on the necks of the bandits. That the trainees were checking. Steven had carefully taken an arrow from his quiver. He had felt a looming sense of dread, coming closer and closer. Suddenly, a dull pain flared in his arm and Steven reflexively swatted at the sensation, seeing a flash of a dark tendril as he glimpsed it. Instinctively wrapping the arrow in the power of Luminosity, he sliced the tendril and it burned with white fire. The fire traced all the way into the arm and Steven felt a dull burning sensation in his bicep which faded, leaving a lingering pain behind. A magic attack, and Steven looked for the source. The Mage’s exposition gave him all the clues he needed. This wasn’t attrition, a diversion or a test. It was a trap. He searched the surrounding area and caught a slight movement in the trees. He looked harder and saw a bit of robe. 

Steven drew his arrow back, looking to kill. In the corner of his eyes, he saw recruits being controlled by the magic, someone shouting orders. But Steven hesitated. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to kill again. He had another human’s life on the point of his arrow, but he wasn’t entirely sure where that life stood. He’d taken the lives of many bandits, but they were described by most as the scum of the earth. Could he really kill someone he knew nothing about? Steven adjusted his aim for the foot, but the sudden movement brought a twang of pain from his arm and he suddenly released the arrow which struck just below the mage’s leg. Steven grabbed his arm, the pain of the burns truly beginning to take effect, as the mage fell out of the tree to reveal a boy, around Steven’s age. Steven didn’t draw another arrow. Another recruit dashed forward to strike him down, and a girl who was even younger than the boy appeared from the shadows, cutting the unfortunate recruit in half.

Despite her appearance, everyone could feel her presence. They could feel that she was many times more powerful than the other mage, despite her being several years younger. She radiated power, and her presence made Steven uneasy. Steven didn’t need to look to know that the trainees were scared. This wasn’t an enemy they could fight. It was like their fight just now, with the mind controlled bandits. If they fought her, it wouldn’t be a battle. It would be slaughter.

Steven could only watch numbly as chaos unfolded. A white spear came out of nowhere as an Overlord arrived onto the scene. Clones of the girl formed out of the trainees’ own shadows. Steven rolled to put some distance between his clone and drew one of his daggers as he rose, giving a quick slash imbued with Luminous power which met the shadow clone’s claw. The clone brought its other claw forward and Steven drew his other dagger, blocking the blow and locking into combat with it. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that the trainees were in battle with the clones, like him. Steven built up his strength and twisted left hard, sweeping the claws away and using the momentum to chain his twist with a back-heeled kick, knocking the clone onto its back. Not wasting the opportunity, Steven dashed forward and severed the shadow clone’s head, the clone disappearing into white flames. Steven drew his bow again and did his best to support the others, sending arrows into the ranks of the shadows. Eventually, the shadow clones dispersed and her real form appeared near Overlord Levran. It was clear, this was between the mage and the Overlord.

Overlord Levran and the girl began fighting at a speed which Steven could barely comprehend, and he watched every millisecond of it. The girl was insanely fast, and Levran was around equally as fast. A shadow cat came out of nowhere and started pressuring the Overlord. No doubt it looked like a blur of black and white to the others, Steven watched them fight at a speed almost faster than the human eye could see. Levran bought up his hand and a large ball of light began to form. Tim averted his eyes as a massive wave of light dispelled the shadows. When the light faded, the girl had disappeared and they were safe. Tim lowered his bow and held his arm, still feeling the sting of the burns. The battle was done, the girl was gone. There were several things Steven needed to think about, and he had an arm to tend to.

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Steven finished bandaging his arm. The burns had prevented major bleeding, but the wound still carried some risk if left unattended. It barely stung now, and the scars would likely fade by the next day. There were other scars he was more worried about, however. Mental scars. Not his mental scars, but of the others. The other trainees. 3 paladins had been taken during the initial attack, including the captain. Another was cut in half when the girl appeared and a few more were heavily injured from the fight with the shadow clones, but the trainees had wisely stayed far away from the Overlord’s fight with the shadowy mage. Overall, 3 trainees and a veteran had been killed in what should’ve been a straightforward bandit suppression. Pretty bad, all in all, but not so bad considering that they fought 2 mages without any plans. Neither of their powers could be laughed at, and Steven had expected more casualties. That said, it was likely that they would likely have all died if not for the Overlord.

Levran proved to the trainees that night that he was a powerful man. Very powerful, and fast enough to keep up with someone smaller than him wearing no armour while he himself wore pretty much full armour. It was clear to all of the trainees that the man was strong. Steven could see the admiration in his eyes, statements confirming the fact. They admired his strength. Strength which had fought off the hands of evil, grasping at the throats of justice. Strength which they aspired to possess, for strength was the reason that many hopeful people joined the Luminous knights. But Steven his concerns.

Certainly, if this night’s experience was anything to go on, he needed to be stronger. Strength wasn’t a bad thing. But there was something he felt like he wasn’t prepared to do. Something he felt would be wrong. It resonated into the core of his being and conflicted with the duties of the Luminous knights.

The centre of his regarded the 2 mages of the evening, a young read headed mage and an even younger shadow manipulating mage. They were strong, no doubt about it. The red headed boy, despite his failure, had a formidable technique that would ultimately prove to turn the tide in most conflict. The bandits had practically rose from the dead. The boy displayed the ability to use corpses to make an army. If that wasn’t enough, he could even convert allied soldiers to be his own soldiers. There was potential in that boy. 

And then there was the girl… Mimel was her name, uttered by the red haired boy. Her abilities were in a whole other dimension, more suited for frontline annihilation than strategy. But she was still several levels above the red headed boy, and it showed. Her speed was inhuman, her strength wasn’t a joke. The ability to spontaneously and simultaneously spawn shadow clones out of the shadows of everyone on the field was power to be feared. She held her own against an Overlord, and pressured him, forcing him to use one of his strongest spells. 

Steven was bothered by one thing. Something he didn’t expect. There was no doubt that the mages were strong. There was also no doubt that the Overlord was strong. During training, it had been drilled into his head that the Luminous knight’s greatest enemies were the mages, and with the tales they wrought about them, Steven was shocked to find such power in people so _young_. Mimel in particular looked to be around 10 years old, yet she was fighting a man who was likely in his middling years. Granted, she was extremely powerful, even though she seemed young, but Steven just found it so _wrong_, it bothered him to no end.

Steven remembered when he was 10. He’d been in the Ritrock household for several years and was adjusting quite well. It was a good year for him, he enjoyed it a lot. Drakul had wanted some distance between them (as he was hitting puberty) and so he read books and kept Esmeralda company for most of that time. Being 10 years old was a time of fun and laughter for him. Being 10 years old was a good time. Steven didn’t associate being 10 years old with the killing potential of a natural disaster.

And even if she was older than she looked, which was feasible, what about the red headed boy? He looked to be around the same age as Steven, and his manner of speech would support his theory. Granted, Steven himself was on the frontline as a trainee in the Luminous knights. He’d seen a few trainees a little younger than him before, but most had dropped out. He was likely the youngest member of the group, in fact. But the red headed boy showed a disregard for human life so blatant that Steven practically knew that his life must’ve been steeped in bloodshed. What had made them so different? Why were people so young so… blood thirsty? And it wasn’t limited to the mages.

Steven himself was a young warrior, one groomed to battle and draw blood. The Luminous knights had no age restrictions, so hypothetically speaking, anyone could train to become a Luminous knight. He knew that there technically were restrictions, physical restrictions, that couldn’t be bypassed. There was only so much strength you can squeeze from a child when compared to, say, a 16 year old. But assuming they had the ability to get past that, hypothetically, anyone could join the Luminous knights, even if they were 10 years old. And that spoke volumes to Steven about the world he lived in.

Children were groomed to fight. To kill. He’d seen it in the mages they had fought just now, he saw it in himself. But for the first time, Steven thought that there was something wrong with the all of it. Steven, weary from the exertion, looked around at his fellow trainees. Many talked about the might of the Overlord, some chatted about the battle they fought. The overall mood was, however, decidedly sombre. More losses than they had expected, achieving less than they expected. Overall disappointment. But he noticed that no one seemed to notice what Steven was thinking.

He didn’t hear anyone talking about their age, he didn’t hear anyone questioning why children had to fight. And ultimately, there was no reason. There were people who became killers out of choice and people who became killers out of circumstance. But no matter how hard he tried, Steven couldn’t wrap his head around the concept of children becoming potential mass murderers. Every fibre of his being told him that it couldn’t happen. He couldn’t even imagine the tragedy and apathy required to force a child to commit murder. He just couldn’t replace the smiles and the warmth with blood and cold.

For once in his life, Steven felt that there was something wrong with the world, and while it may have just been lingering childish naivety, he was worried that no one else thought the same.