Chapter 5: The Iron Mandate
"So arrogant," Felix muttered, narrowing his eyes at the receding figure of the Duke.
"I'll be watching you when you become a Reidar," Silas said, crossing his arms over his massive chest.
Felix's smirk returned instantly, wide and unrepentant. "Well... I guess I'll be a far better Reidar than he is," he said in his usual sheepish, yet confident tone. He struck a dramatic pose, chin tilted just enough to catch the light. "I mean, look at that jawline. It's so stiff I bet he can't even chew his own food. If I have to save the world, I might as well look devastatingly handsome while doing it. The enemies will be too busy admiring my hair to notice I'm stabbing them."
"I have a hunch we won't like that man," Tomris added, her hand instinctively resting on the hilt of her blade.
"I don't think we're supposed to like him. Just try not to draw his attention," I retorted, stepping between her and Felix to keep them moving. "If I'm not mistaken, that's Alaric Drakenhold, the Duke of the Western Province of Drakenveil. I didn't realize someone with that much title and power would bother being a professor here."
Before anyone could respond, one of the professors standing on a monolith platform stepped forward. His voice boomed, amplified by the stone.
"Your Vanguard commanders will now hold a Conventus to establish the rules and divide you into squads! Move to your designated Vanguards immediately and await further instructions!"
"And that's it? That's all?" Felix asked, looking around in mock outrage.
Tomris shot him a dry, sarcastic look. "What did you expect, Felix? A welcome party?"
"Maybe! At least some encouraging words," he grumbled, throwing his hands up. "Something like, 'You've made it this far, you're all chosen ones,' or... I don't know, something inspiring!"
Tomris and I exchanged a look, rolled our eyes in unison, and walked ahead. Silas lingered for a second, dropping a heavy hand on Felix's shoulder.
"If you expected welcoming faces or kind words," Silas grunted, his voice low, "you've come to the wrong place."
He left Felix standing there and followed us.
"A little encouragement... is it really that hard?" Felix muttered to himself, shaking his head before hurrying to catch up.
As we got to the North Vanguard,we were met by a man who looked only a few years older than us but carried the presence of a veteran. He wore his hair in a tight top-knot, with his temples and the nape of his neck cleanly shaved. A jagged scar cut through the edge of his lip, giving him a permanent, grim half-smile. He was broad-shouldered and towered over most of the cadets, standing like a wall of solid muscle. He looked just as arrogant in his jet-obsidian uniform.
"So, here is our new fresh meat," he said loudly as the Northern Vanguard gathered.
"Why is everyone here so eagerly bloodthirsty? I'm tired of being compared to chicken meat!" Felix mumbled.
"A life full of fights and deaths made them like this. I think you've found your soulmates for a sarcasm war here," I whispered back.
"Listen up, cadets! My name is Kael Nightwing, and I'm the Commander of the Northern Vanguard. You have crossed the threshold of Veritas, which means your past lives are nothing but ash. From this moment on, you live and die by the Codex—or the Taboos. Call it what you wish. Mark my words: the shadow has no mercy, and neither do I."
The Commander scanned the line, his gaze lingering on me and Tomris for a fleeting, heavy second. His voice was bone-dry and hard as iron.
"Within these walls, the Taboos govern all. The first and most vital is the Taboo of Blood. I don't care whose daughters or sons you were yesterday. Here, you are no one until you prove otherwise. Your titles, your lands, and your family's gold hold no power here. If I hear even a whisper of someone flaunting their heritage or using their lineage to pressure others, I will personally throw you out of these gates without a sword. The shadow does not look at your crests—it only looks at your meat."
"Second, the Taboo of Forbidden Sectors. Entry into the Central Spire or the Subterranean Levels is strictly forbidden. These areas are not closed to hide secrets, but to keep you alive. Any cadet caught wandering outside permitted zones without a Reidar will face an immediate tribunal."
"Third, the Taboo of the Blade. You do not draw steel against your brothers within the living quarters or the mess hall. Trial by Combat is the only way to resolve disputes, and it happens only on the Arena under an instructor's eye. But if a real attempt on a comrade's life is made inside these walls, it is severely punished. If your target survives, they alone choose your penance. And believe me—with adrenaline and fury screaming in their veins, they will choose your execution."
"A Reidar's word is Law. You follow orders first and ask questions never. Discussion is permitted only after the mission is complete."
I squinted, a bad feeling settling in my gut. Now they will make us do every useless labor, I thought.
"Your squad is a single body. If one of you fails, the entire unit bleeds. One man falls—everyone does push-ups. One man is late—the whole squad loses their dinner."
Tomris turned to Felix, her eyes dangerous. "Mark my words: if you cause any trouble, you're dead."
"After the evening bell—absolute silence. Any whispering in the barracks is considered a conspiracy."
Felix let out an exasperated sigh. "Can't we even have a little fun? Even in my teenage days, my mother didn't control me like that."
"Your Vanguard is your only home; your comrades are your only kin," Nightwing continued. "To you, the other Vanguards—South, East, West—are nothing more than strangers passing in the night. You will train alongside them, but do not be fooled: there are those among them who will despise you. If they seek your end, you are granted the right to resist. While the murder of a fellow student is never encouraged, it is not forbidden if your life hangs in the balance. We do not mourn the weak who fail to defend themselves."
"Vanguards compete in everything—combat, strategy, discipline—and only the best is chosen. For three years, this Vanguard has crawled in second place, while the Eastern Vanguard has claimed the title of elite. I will not tolerate another year of their arrogance. Do not fail your seniors. Maintain our image, work seamlessly with your older comrades, and strike as one. We are finished being second. This year, we take everything! Now go get your uniforms. Your 'paradiselike' life starts tomorrow," he added sarcastically before turning on his heel.
We collected our uniforms—stiff leather that smelled of oil and discipline—and headed to the barracks.
"A room for two. Good! We can stay together," Tomris said, testing the sturdiness of the bunk.
"Yeah," I returned her smile, though my mind was still on the Commander's words.
Silas appeared at the doorway. "Felix and I will be at the end of the corridor."
Felix's eyes widened. "What? The room at the end? Why so far?" Silas just stared at him in silence until Felix slumped. "Fine, fine. At the end of the corridor. Got it. See you at the long-awaited dinner, girls."
Once they were gone, I began unpacking the few things I had brought.
"I hope they take good care of our horses," I said. "Almas will destroy their stables if they don't."
I chuckled. "Nyx too."
"So," Tomris said, sitting on her bed and looking at me intently. "Let's get to know each other a little better. We'll be living together for a long time. I think it's a must. I'll go first."
She leaned back, her expression softening for the first time. "I'm from the Southern Province of Azuronia. I come from the Varkas family—a generation of warriors and Reidars. I have... had two older brothers and one younger sister. My oldest brother was killed in a fight with an Umbral. So I came here to become a Reidar for him. Even though I had little mana, my parents didn't want me to come, but after what happened to Darion, no one could change my resolve. Now, your turn."
I paused, my hand hovering over my bag. The silence of the barracks suddenly felt heavy, pressing against my chest. I knew what I had to say, even if it felt like stepping onto thin ice .
"I'm from the Northern Province of Arcanumgard," I said quietly.
Tomris froze. The leather boots she had been holding slipped from her numb fingers, hitting the stone floor with a dull, heavy thud. She didn't speak. She didn't move. She just stood there, her breath hitching in her throat, her eyes wide and fixed on me with a look of pure, unadulterated shock.