Content Warning
This chapter contains graphic violence, physical assault, severe bodily injury, blood, and disturbing combat-related descriptions.
Reader discretion is advised.
Sunday afternoon should have been peaceful.
Unfortunately, peace and Galia Military Academy maintained a complicated relationship.
I was returning from the library garden.
More specifically—
I was returning from the purple berry bush.
A productive morning.
A successful morning.
A morning free of violence.
Clearly the universe found this unacceptable.
The trouble started near one of the central courtyards.
At first I ignored it.
A small crowd.
Raised voices.
Nothing unusual.
Then I heard my name.
"...Benjamin."
I stopped.
That was rarely a good sign.
The crowd parted slightly as I approached.
At the center stood a female student.
Second year.
Human.
Blonde hair.
Academy ranked.
The moment she spotted me, her expression changed.
Fear.
Shock.
Hurt.
All perfectly timed.
A bad feeling immediately appeared.
"There he is!"
Wonderful.
The bad feeling intensified.
Several students turned toward me.
Others began whispering.
I frowned.
"What happened?"
The girl looked offended.
Deeply offended.
Professionally offended.
"You're really going to pretend you don't know?"
I blinked.
"Know what?"
Gasps.
Whispers.
Students immediately began paying attention.
Of course they did.
Academy students could smell drama from several kilometers away.
"You cornered me yesterday."
I stared.
"...No."
"You threatened me."
"No."
"You grabbed me."
"No."
A few students exchanged looks.
One of them frowned.
Another looked confused.
The story already sounded strange.
The girl pointed directly at me.
"Why are you lying?"
I sighed.
Because apparently that was my life now.
"Let's simplify this."
I pointed at myself.
"Benjamin."
Then pointed at her.
"You."
Then spread my hands.
"We have literally never spoken."
That got a few nods.
Several nearby students seemed to agree.
Unfortunately stupidity rarely surrendered gracefully.
"You think being strong means nobody will believe me?"
"No."
"You think people won't see what you are?"
I frowned.
That sentence felt strange.
Almost rehearsed.
Then another voice entered the conversation.
Loud.
Confident.
Annoying.
"That's enough."
A second-year student stepped forward.
Tall.
Broad shoulders.
The type of person who believed volume was a substitute for intelligence.
I immediately disliked him.
The girl looked relieved when she saw him.
Too relieved.
Interesting.
No.
Obvious.
The second-year moved between us.
"You should be ashamed."
I blinked.
"What did I do?"
"You know exactly what you did."
Several students rolled their eyes.
Apparently I wasn't the only one noticing the lack of evidence.
The male student continued anyway.
"People like you always think rules don't apply."
People like me.
Interesting choice of words.
The girl lowered her gaze.
A little too dramatically.
"I just wanted him to leave me alone..."
The performance deserved applause.
Not good applause.
But applause nonetheless.
Unfortunately for them—
The crowd wasn't completely stupid.
Questions started appearing.
Times.
Locations.
Witnesses.
Details.
The story began developing holes.
Large holes.
Embarrassing holes.
The male student noticed.
And panicked.
His expression hardened.
His voice grew louder.
More aggressive.
Then his eyes landed on my exposed dragon scales.
A mistake.
The afternoon sunlight danced across them.
Brilliant colors shimmered beneath the scales.
Reds.
Golds.
Blues.
Greens.
The pride of Elarion.
The pride of my bloodline.
Displayed openly.
As always.
The second-year laughed.
"Honestly."
He pointed directly at them.
"Those things are disgusting."
Silence.
The courtyard became very quiet.
Something cold settled inside me.
Not explosive.
Not loud.
Cold.
Sharp.
Precise.
The student continued.
Unaware.
"Bloodline freaks always think they're special."
Silence.
A few students visibly winced.
Then he stepped forward.
And grabbed one of my scales.
The world stopped.
Not literally.
Just for me.
The noise vanished.
The crowd disappeared.
The shouting faded.
Only silence remained.
I looked down at his hand.
Then looked at him.
"Take your hand off me."
He laughed.
He didn't.
So I grabbed his hair.
The first impact shattered his nose.
The sound echoed through the courtyard.
The second impact split his lips.
Blood exploded across the stone.
The third impact knocked several teeth loose.
Screaming started.
The fourth impact drove those teeth completely free.
White fragments scattered across the courtyard.
The fifth impact fractured his cheekbone.
The sixth broke the other.
By the seventh impact one eye had swollen nearly shut.
The eighth tore his eyelid.
The ninth shattered part of his jaw.
The tenth produced a crack loud enough for everyone nearby to hear.
The screaming stopped.
Not because he was unconscious.
Because his jaw no longer functioned properly.
Blood covered the stone.
The eleventh impact flattened what remained of his nose.
The twelfth fractured more teeth.
The thirteenth cracked the front of his skull.
Not enough to kill.
Enough to horrify.
The fourteenth left his face barely recognizable.
The fifteenth—
Never landed.
A hand grabbed my shoulder.
"Benjamin."
I stopped.
An instructor.
My breathing was calm.
My heartbeat steady.
My hands covered in blood.
The second-year lay motionless.
Alive.
But barely conscious.
His lips were torn.
His nose no longer existed in any recognizable form.
Several teeth were missing.
One eye had swollen shut.
The other stared unfocused at the sky.
His jaw hung at an unnatural angle.
Blood coated his uniform.
The academy healer who arrived moments later took one look at him and swore.
The crowd remained silent.
Nobody seemed interested in defending him anymore.
The false accusation collapsed quickly afterward.
Witnesses spoke.
Stories contradicted each other.
Evidence appeared.
The truth emerged.
But by then it hardly mattered.
Because nobody was talking about the accusation anymore.
They were talking about what happened afterward.
That evening—
A knock sounded at my dormitory door.
I already knew who it was.
Ceal stepped inside.
Closed the door.
Looked at me.
Then sat down.
Ceal: "I heard about the incident."
Benjamin: "News travels quickly."
Ceal: "You're ranked now. That's how it works."
Silence.
Ceal: "The accusation was false."
Benjamin: "Yes."
Ceal: "The student admitted it."
Benjamin: "Good."
Ceal studied me.
Ceal: "The injuries were excessive."
Benjamin: "He touched my scales."
A pause.
Ceal: "Fair."
That was the most Ashford response imaginable.
Benjamin: "You're not going to lecture me?"
Ceal: "No."
Benjamin: "Why not?"
Ceal: "Because I probably would've broken his arm."
Reasonable.
The silence returned.
Then Ceal spoke again.
Ceal: "Witnesses said something interesting."
I looked at him.
Benjamin: "What?"
Ceal leaned back.
Thinking.
Remembering.
Ceal: "They said you looked calm."
I frowned.
Benjamin: "And?"
Ceal: "When we were children, you used to have that face."
Benjamin: "What face?"
Ceal pointed directly at me.
Ceal: "That one."
I immediately became aware of my expression.
Which somehow made things worse.
Benjamin: "That's not an answer."
Ceal: "It is."
A pause.
Ceal: "You always wore that face right before someone got hurt."
Silence.
Ceal: "Or when you were genuinely angry."
The room felt strangely quiet.
Eventually I spoke.
Benjamin: "People change."
Ceal nodded.
Ceal: "Sometimes."
He stood.
Walked toward the door.
Then stopped.
Ceal: "Sometimes they become more like themselves."
And with that—
He left.
Leaving me alone with a sentence I wasn't entirely sure I wanted to understand.