[b][center][h3][color=FDC89A]ℜ𝔬𝔢𝔩𝔬 Ⅲ    [/color][/h3][/center][/b][center][color=#E1E3E2]──[/color][color=#E1E2DF]─[/color][color=#E2E1DD]─[/color][color=#E3E0DB]─[/color][color=#E4DFD9]─[/color][color=#E5DFD7]─[/color][color=#E5DED5]─[/color][color=#E6DDD3]─[/color][color=#E7DCD1]─[/color][color=#E8DCCF]─[/color][color=#E9DBCD]─[/color][color=#E9DACB]─[/color][color=#EAD9C9]─[/color][color=#EBD9C7]─[/color][color=#ECD8C5]─[/color][color=#EDD7C3]─[/color][color=#EDD6C1]─[/color][color=#EED6BF]─[/color][color=#EFD5BD]─[/color][color=#F0D4BA]─[/color][color=#F1D3B8]─[/color][color=#F2D3B6]─[/color][color=#F2D2B4]─[/color][color=#F3D1B2]─[/color][color=#F4D0B0]─[/color][color=#F5D0AE]─[/color][color=#F6CFAC]─[/color][color=#F6CEAA]─[/color][color=#F7CDA8]─[/color][color=#F8CDA6]─[/color][color=#F9CCA4]─[/color][color=#FACBA2]•[/color][color=#FACAA0]⋅[/color][color=#FBCA9E]⊰[/color][color=#FCC99C]༻[/color][color=#FDC89A]༒[/color][color=#FEC798]︎[/color][color=#FEC795]༺[/color][color=#FEC798]⊱[/color][color=#FDC89A]⋅[/color][color=#FCC99C]•[/color][color=#FBCA9E]─[/color][color=#FACAA0]─[/color][color=#FACBA2]─[/color][color=#F9CCA4]─[/color][color=#F8CDA6]─[/color][color=#F7CDA8]─[/color][color=#F6CEAA]─[/color][color=#F6CFAC]─[/color][color=#F5D0AE]─[/color][color=#F4D0B0]─[/color][color=#F3D1B2]─[/color][color=#F2D2B4]─[/color][color=#F2D3B6]─[/color][color=#F1D3B8]─[/color][color=#F0D4BA]─[/color][color=#EFD5BD]─[/color][color=#EED6BF]─[/color][color=#EDD6C1]─[/color][color=#EDD7C3]─[/color][color=#ECD8C5]─[/color][color=#EBD9C7]─[/color][color=#EAD9C9]─[/color][color=#E9DACB]─[/color][color=#E9DBCD]─[/color][color=#E8DCCF]─[/color][color=#E7DCD1]─[/color][color=#E6DDD3]─[/color][color=#E5DED5]─[/color][color=#E5DFD7]─[/color][color=#E4DFD9]─[/color][color=#E3E0DB]─[/color][color=#E2E1DD]─[/color][color=#E1E2DF]──[/color][/center][indent][indent][indent][indent][justify][color=bdbdbd]The room was decorated with varying regimental and military standards, which were interspersed with fine oil paintings of former academy chancellors. The lower half of the rear wall was spanned by five narrow vertical columns of stained glass, which sat beneath a singular, domineering circular window. The glass was masterfully designed; salted with rich reds, blues, purples, greens, and yellows; depicting various scenes and imagery of Laachtalian legend — the victory on Römtung Hill, the felling of the Green Drake, the coronation of Paol the Great. The morning’s violent sunlight filtered through the glasswork, coruscating vibrantly across the stone floor, rendering the chandeliers and candelabras in the room rather redundant. Afront the windows was a broad dais draped in crimson velvet, and hemmed with tassels of gold. At the anterior of the dais was a tapered mahogany lectern, where upon the Generalfeldmarschall would soon address the cadets with a commencement speech. Behind it, cushioned tables were positioned; fifty ceremonial smallswords lay restfully, awaiting their bestowal on the neophytes. Fifty-five padded, velvet seats were afront the dais; one for each student, and an extra for their respective professors. Further from the dais were benches arranged for family, which would be filled after the cadets had all filtered in and found their place. The music carried thunderously from outside, but little noise came from within, the cadets adopting a hushed reverence only interrupted by an occasional whisper. As they trickled in, they made their way to one of the five labelled sections: from A through E.

In front of the first four sections stood four professors, each lingering in wait, surveying and regarding their new pupils as they approached. Rigid and elegant, they stood as their cadets might in three years time, as gleaming examples of military excellence. The fifth, the custodian of Section E, made no such attempt at politesse. Roelo might not have noticed the man hunched in a seat at the starboard of the hall, had he not been looking for him. Though he might’ve been mistaken for someone of lesser station, it seemed to be Schöst who haunted the nearly-shadows, his cane resting against the wall. He was bereft of ceremonial medallions, his regimentals were dark and utilitarian, and unlike his contemporaries, he made no attempt to shephard and usher. Schöst looked as if he’d once been an imposing man, but he’d been left mangled by a particularly unkind wartime injury, which fleeced him of any real aura of grandeur. With that said, what he lacked in intimidation by way of physical prominence, he might’ve recovered through ghoulishness. It was a cruel thought, but an undeniable one, that the professor’s afflictions, along with his wider countenance, made him look somewhat baleful, somewhat miserly. It wasn’t that his face wore irritation, or any particular unkindness — in fact, it wore nothing at all, but his dark eyes reminded Roelo of a painting’s; not vacant of thought, but unreadable and forbidding. While looks were often misleading, Roelo couldn’t help but suppose that, when it came to his edifier, he’d drawn the short straw. Schöst had the look of a laggard; he hadn’t yet even opened his mouth, and he’d already left an unbecoming impression on any who laid eyes on him. [i]Perhaps[/i], Roelo considered, no straw had been drawn at all. After all, he was in class five of five. He wondered how these classes were even selected — it wasn’t alphabetically, lest a de Barbroeck would, of course, be seated in Section A. Was he merely among the paddings-out of the fifty annual entrants? The leftovers? The back face of the meticulously decorated festive tree, not quite as preened and perfected as its other margins? It would make sense. Hladekný and Tælman were clearly friendly; the latter must’ve told the former of Roelo’s many shortcomings. Roelo imagined them together, chuckling peevishly as they celebrated their mutually-beneficial exchange, clinking goblets of [i]bon vin[/i]; Hladekný obtaining generous donations and endorsements, and Tælman ridding himself of his albatross. It didn’t matter, though. He’d prove them both wrong.

Roelo observed his classmates as he took his own seat; there was the red-haired boy, who he made sure not to make eye-contact with, and five other males, none of which he recognised — he felt a sense of relief that the execrable Jan-Hugo Breitkreutz was not among them. Three girls took their seats; one dark-haired and mousy, one brunette, confident and eagle-like, and one blonde: attractive. He looked away. Now that he was here, his tribe of nine beside him, the intimacy of it all daunted him. As much as he had intended to blend into the crowd, to keep his head down; it seemed a rather ridiculous thought now in practice. How would he go unperceived in such a small troop? Already some of the boys were breathing their names to each-other, exchanging hand-shakes and smiles. 

“My name is Ṣaẓriq,” whispered the lad to Roelo’s left — who had dark skin and coiled hair. He angled himself, and his hand, to the de Barbroeck. “Nice to meet you.”

“Yes — good morning,” Roelo replied impulsively, shaking the extended hand. He seemed to react without any forethought. “Roelo.”

Ṣaẓriq gave a small grin, and a nod, before turning his attention away.

[i]Idiot[/i], Roelo thought. Why such an unwieldy greeting? Why did your voice pitch itself so [i]falsetto[/i]? [i]You sound like a fool[/i].

Roelo had been too caught in his own head to notice, but the guests had all taken their seats, and the band had gone quiet. The cadets began to rise to their feet for a reason unknown to Roelo — but he quickly followed suit nonetheless. Out from a side passage, he noticed, had emerged Generalfeldmarschall Hladekný. The chancellor strode uniformly to the dais, and the entire hall stood in deferential quiet. For a few moments, the room was utterly silent. 

“Thank you,” Hladekný started, clearing his throat as he took his place at the lectern. His bass voice resonated through the room, carrying effortlessly to those at the rear. He carried no script with him; with his imminent speech seemingly committed to memory. “Good morning.”

“Cadets,” he continued. “This hall, where you gather today, has borne witness to many generations of young men and women who, like you, once bathed in anticipation, in pride, and perhaps in uncertainty for what lies ahead. But you are not just inheritors of the past; you are the future of our Empire. Each of you, from this day forward, carries the weight of a storied legacy on your shoulders. And a great weight it is. It is a responsibility — a privilege — to safeguard the principles that have forged our realm, to uphold the values that will continue to guide it through generations to come. For many of you, today is a cause for celebration: a new beginning. But I must forewarn you. I speak before you in obsequy of your childhood, as today you must bid it farewell. Tomorrow, you will be children no longer. War is cruel, and it is merciless. It would be neglectful of us, as the guardians of your potential, to treat you as anything other than men and women levied with the highest of expectations.”

“The professors before you are among the most skilled and proven officers in the Laachtalian Empire. They will guide you, yes, but they will not carry your burdens. It is up to you to rise to the challenge. Where you may have found excuses and comforts as nestlings, you will find here only hard truths. You will be tested, you will be judged, and you will be held to a standard higher than you have ever known. You will face doubt; pain; defeat. Your boundaries will be appraised and dismantled. You will learn discipline; and like an iron in fire, you will fortify. The path you have chosen is an arduous one, but not in futility. This, I promise; each and every one of you who dedicates themself wholly to your study will undergo a glorious metamorphosis, discovering a mastery of self that you had previously thought unattainable. The tools and teachings with which we provide you, if taken responsively, will pave the way for your [i]legend[/i]. While firstborns destined for high peerage you are not, do not misclassify yourselves as ancillary to your kin. While your elders play a role of great importance in their gentry, it is not they who will hold-fast the marches and bounds of this Empire. It is not they who will ensure the destiny of our realm. It is you, truly, who bares the legacy of Lethuwic.”

The chancellor fell momentarily silent, and the crowd applauded.

“Now, cadets, you will bind yourself to the Empire in oath,” he resumed, as the applause diminuendoed. “You arrived here, today, as scion; naïve and unfledged. Join me, in eulogy, and shed your old skin. Your new life begins now.”

Each cadet had, of course, been briefed on their induction. Section by section, marshalled by their professor, they would form a queue. One by one, they would be summoned by Hladekný to approach the dais, taking several sharp, precise steps forward. There, an officer would hold aloft a ceremonial scroll bearing the [i]oath of allegiance[/i]. The cadet would raise their right hand, palm forward, and recite the oath, while standing at attention. Meanwhile, Hladekný would retrieve one of fifty ceremonial smallswords from the table on the dais, which he would bestow upon the cadet following the recital of their oath. Hladekný would hold the sword horizontally in both hands, and the cadet would step forward, bow, and receive it. Thereafter, they would exit through the passage to the left, giving a stoic parting glance to any family members that watched on.

Up came Section A, their professor quietly organising them into a queue before the dais. One by one, they approached Hladekný. While nerves could be heard and observed through occasional minor fumbles and missteps, the students filtered through without any significant embarrassment. Section B followed, then Section C. Within the throng of the third cluster was Jan-Hugo, a contemptible young man who wore a smug leer. Roelo had learned to detest the Breitkreutz, who was everything Roelo was not; an arrogant justiciar, a flatterer, a would-be paladin. He knew that Jan-Hugo would worm his way through the academy, currying favour with anyone and everyone with a shred of influence. He’d undoubtedly be popular and successful; an exemplar, just like Jochem. He felt a pang of what might be jealousy at the thought, but quickly surrendered it, tasting bile on his tongue at the thought of envying the grotesque Jan-Hugo. Section D passed by, and ‘fore long, Herr Schöst issued a heavy sigh, struggling with his cane; arising to direct his decade to the dais. 

While Roelo might’ve experienced pangs of anxiety at the thought of socialising with his peers, he felt no such apprehension at the prospect of claiming his smallsword. In fact, as he found himself second in the queue of ten, he felt a warmness engulf him; a fervent euphoria. The ritual was important threefold; as Hladekný had posited, it was a relinquishment of childhood, a coming of age; it was a transfer of responsibility, and an acceptance of destiny; and finally, and most crucially, it was an absconsion from Tælman. Roelo’s chains would break, and he would be his own man, with his own path to carve. When he considered it, he realised he didn’t care much about protecting the Empire; it could crumble, and he would not weep. But the thought of becoming a great man, and forging a legacy that existed independently from his father’s — now that was a sweet delight. The way he saw it, that ascension was worth almost anything; he’d kill for it; he’d become subservient to another entity for it. Was it petty? [i]Most certainly.[/i] Did that make the thought any less rhapsodic? [i]Most certainly not.[/i] He had no other desires, and enough incentive to push him beyond the limits of most. He would surpass every other in his throng. He would best Jan-Hugo, and not only would he best him, but he would ensure that he was bitterly embarrassed; that there could be no doubt in the mind of any onlooker who was the man of greater moral fibre. Others would be here to make friends, to find love, to explore the realm. He cared not for such things; he only sought to dominate.

He approached the lectern, and recited the oath, hand aloft: “I swear to uphold the laws and values of the Laachtalian Empire, to bring strength to its people in war and in peace, and to uphold the honour of the realm in all my deeds, in life and unto death."

Hladekný offered out the blade, a resilience in his eyes.

Roelo claimed it. Goosebumps crested his skin.

As he left the hall, chin kept high, he searched the benches at the room’s rear. Quickly, he locked eyes with Jochem, who gave a friendly nod, which he returned; and then Tælman, who was expressionless. The moment hung in the air for a few seconds as Roelo made his way to the exit, and neither flinched; both were cold and reserved.

And then he left. He wondered when he would see his father next. Perhaps he never would; though that was an optimistic thought, as the Duke would come sniffing for renown and acclaim when Roelo eventually completed his studies.

He exhaled, resting against the wall of the passageway he had entered. Here he would wait for the rest of his class, after which point, he assumed, Herr Schöst would provide further instruction. He studied the smallsword in his grasp, keen to examine it in all of its majesty. While in its sheath, all that could be seen of the weapon was its rounded guard, urn-shaped cap, and black, leather-bound grip; which was woven with neat brass wire. The scabbard from which the hilt protruded was fashioned of black-lacquered leather, and reinforced with brass fittings; chape and throat painstakingly polished. Suspensions rings were affixed to the scabbard, ensuring its security upon a cadet’s belt in march. He placed his hand on the hilt, releasing the instrument from its confines. The blade itself was straight and slender, thirty-two inches in length, and shaped of the finest steel. Its ceremonial temperament was evident by virtue of its blunt tip, but the sword was nonetheless ergonomic. Its edge was razor-sharp, reflecting light sharply in a keen line, and its cylindrical grip was designed to fit comfortably in hand; well-balanced and elegant. It was accepted — nay, encouraged, that this blade might etch cicatrix in monomachy; though its gelded point would ensure the prevention of any premature tragedy. It was a weapon, of course, but it was principally an article of uniform, an essential part of each cadet’s personal effects for the coming years. Pleased, he let the sword slip back into its case.

With each minute passed came another of Roelo’s classmates, until all had exited the hall. Most of the others assessed their blades in the same manner as Roelo, while the others lingered awkwardly, awaiting Schöst’s approach. It so happened that they would come to wait for longer than they had expected.[/color][/justify][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent][center][color=#E1E3E2]──[/color][color=#E1E2DF]─[/color][color=#E2E1DD]─[/color][color=#E3E0DB]─[/color][color=#E4DFD9]─[/color][color=#E5DFD7]─[/color][color=#E5DED5]─[/color][color=#E6DDD3]─[/color][color=#E7DCD1]─[/color][color=#E8DCCF]─[/color][color=#E9DBCD]─[/color][color=#E9DACB]─[/color][color=#EAD9C9]─[/color][color=#EBD9C7]─[/color][color=#ECD8C5]─[/color][color=#EDD7C3]─[/color][color=#EDD6C1]─[/color][color=#EED6BF]─[/color][color=#EFD5BD]─[/color][color=#F0D4BA]─[/color][color=#F1D3B8]─[/color][color=#F2D3B6]─[/color][color=#F2D2B4]─[/color][color=#F3D1B2]─[/color][color=#F4D0B0]─[/color][color=#F5D0AE]─[/color][color=#F6CFAC]─[/color][color=#F6CEAA]─[/color][color=#F7CDA8]─[/color][color=#F8CDA6]─[/color][color=#F9CCA4]─[/color][color=#FACBA2]•[/color][color=#FACAA0]⋅[/color][color=#FBCA9E]⊰[/color][color=#FCC99C]༻[/color][color=#FDC89A]༒[/color][color=#FEC798]︎[/color][color=#FEC795]༺[/color][color=#FEC798]⊱[/color][color=#FDC89A]⋅[/color][color=#FCC99C]•[/color][color=#FBCA9E]─[/color][color=#FACAA0]─[/color][color=#FACBA2]─[/color][color=#F9CCA4]─[/color][color=#F8CDA6]─[/color][color=#F7CDA8]─[/color][color=#F6CEAA]─[/color][color=#F6CFAC]─[/color][color=#F5D0AE]─[/color][color=#F4D0B0]─[/color][color=#F3D1B2]─[/color][color=#F2D2B4]─[/color][color=#F2D3B6]─[/color][color=#F1D3B8]─[/color][color=#F0D4BA]─[/color][color=#EFD5BD]─[/color][color=#EED6BF]─[/color][color=#EDD6C1]─[/color][color=#EDD7C3]─[/color][color=#ECD8C5]─[/color][color=#EBD9C7]─[/color][color=#EAD9C9]─[/color][color=#E9DACB]─[/color][color=#E9DBCD]─[/color][color=#E8DCCF]─[/color][color=#E7DCD1]─[/color][color=#E6DDD3]─[/color][color=#E5DED5]─[/color][color=#E5DFD7]─[/color][color=#E4DFD9]─[/color][color=#E3E0DB]─[/color][color=#E2E1DD]─[/color][color=#E1E2DF]──[/color][/center]