Stalking, he brushed past Memphis not meeting his gaze. Through the catcalls and hollers, Memphis’s voice cut through his mind, “Brokk...” Memphis’s tone only made him walk faster out of the courtyard, not looking back once. He passed under the stone archway, its chiseled carvings always striking him as unnerving and beautiful at the same time. It told the story of the Academy, how the Faes and the Strattons had built the foundations for their democratic government, how they had pulled Kiero out from under the shadow of war. How the Academy was, and had been for years, structured to present it’s golden warriors to the world, fighting off any threat of abuse and injustice. The pupils here were some of the most gifted and strongest representation of what Kiero had to offer.
Or most uncontrolled. Needing to be caged.
It wasn’t that he didn’t agree with what the Academy stood for. He was just as well-learned in Kiero’s history as any other student. About the trade wars with the Shattered Isles, about how Roque’s father and his council continued for years to enslave Nei’s people, the mass slaughter of desolates, people without or with weak abilities. The Faes had fought for their freedom. Tearing away from their past that was bathed in blood, trying to balance the power in the country. Of course, he was honored to be a part of such a movement. Of course, he was grateful that Nei and Roque had taken him in. He had no recollection of his parents or what had happened for him to end up alone in the forest that surrounded the Academy so many years prior. Without the Faes, he would not have survived or would have been at the mercy of the raiders.
Their world wasn’t perfect, but it was at ease. The raiders had proclaimed separate regency and somewhat left their towns and cities alone. The Shattered Isles were under a peace agreement now with the Faes but no longer accepted Nei as one of their own blood. The desolates were under the sworn oath of protection from the Academy, and the Academy continued to grow and flourish with the Faes’ dream. Sighing, he looked up past the archway to the open sky and the endlessness it provided. He should be grateful. He should take his instruction without question. He should be proud to be a student here and graduate to serve his country. He would be a government official, a warrior and protector of the peace.
But he was not.
There had been whisperings for the last couple of years of what exactly the seniors were instructed to do by Cesan Stratton. He shivered, his eyebrows furrowed as those whispers swirled in his mind. Creating chaos and fear, unleashing the students as weapons. Everything started as whispers in this place, but the knowledge of what Cesan might be doing, what he was brainwashing into the hearts and minds of students, had shattered his flawless view of the world around him. He would not be carved into a fear monger, he would not use his abilities to crack the frail bond of peace that had been accomplished.
He would not become a monster.
His throat felt thick as he tore his gaze away and continued his walk back to the main building. Whether the rumors were true was a problem. Cesan was not his favorite man and they rarely saw eye to eye, but was he an enemy? Sighing, his dark thoughts whisked away any peace of mind he might have had for the day. A tolling bell rang out behind him, marking their lunch break. By fire and flame, finally. The Academy was a sprawling map of concrete, the main building consisting of dorm rooms in the center, a tall cylinder watch tower to the east, and encircling it was the constant placement of adjacent classroom buildings. No gates were needed, no security. Any one mad enough to try to disrupt the students and teachers here wouldn’t make it past the onslaught of different abilities. Besides, the closest city was the Captital of Kiero, Sarthaven, and that was hours away.
He was following the well-worn path back up toward the building when a clear voice rang out behind him, “Brokk, wait up!” The blood in his veins froze, and he stopped walking mid stride. One second passed. And then another. His breath was swept away the moment Emory Fae grabbed his arm, turning him to face her. Flushed cheeks and bright green eyes, her excitement was practically electric in the air between them. It consumed him, igniting his core.
But like every other day, he swallowed down his emotions and wolfishly grinned at his other best friend. “And what possibly could you want?”
Wrinkling her nose at him, she punched him in the arm. “Oh come off it. Memphis caught me after class and mentioned you might be skulking around somewhere in this general direction.”
“Of course, he did.” Brokk sighed, returning his attention back to his walk.
Naturally Emory wasn’t detoured one bit. “Was it Iasan again?” Both she and Memphis were privy to his opinion about their training teacher. Iasan was ruthless, a trained killer, and expected them to have no compassion, no mercy. It was dummies now they were practicing on, but when it wasn’t? When they killed without a second thought? He never wanted to lose that part of himself, even if he attained the skills. Emory’s mouth pulled down in
