Will of the Battlefield

At the first light of the young sun, the bells of Blue Leaf Academy rang, announcing the beginning of the day.

Students awakened in tumult, the pleasant yet unbearably loud ringing startling them first thing in the morning. Some even jumped to their feet in fright, unable to get used to it. Now that several days had passed since the selections.

The excitement had faded somewhat, replaced by routines, introductions, and the uncomfortable realization that academy life was very different from the freedom many of them had once enjoyed.

Or maybe, it was far too luxurious compared to the life they once led... Different people, different backgrounds, different lives, and different circumstances.

For Thane, the youngest of the Ironforge, very little had changed.

He still woke late, the ringing of the great bells didn’t bother him much, nor could they pull him from his dreams.

He still ate enough for four men at the very least on an average meal.

He still had the ability to confuse half the academy before breakfast with obvious statements that didn’t make much sense.

More importantly, he still had absolutely no idea where anything was.

"Why are there so many buildings?" Thane complained as he trudged along a cobbled path. "And why does every building have so many corridors?"

His gaze fell on Max. "What’s with the number of doors on each side of every corridor?"

Beside him, Max adjusted the collar of his academy uniform. "Because this is an academy," he explained flatly.

"It shouldn’t need this many."

"It has nearly four thousand students," Max gave him the blow.

Thane suddenly stopped walking. "Four thousand?" he asked in disbelief.

"Yes."

"That’s more people than my village." His mind was almost blown.

Max remembered their side conversations with Thomas the other day. "Your village also has sheep living inside homes," he stated.

"They get cold."

Max sighed.

There was no arguing with Thane before breakfast, and it was also true that the northern region was cold and merciless. It might have been the reason behind the warmth of the people there toward one another.

But still, Max could understand to an extent the confusion Thane was going through.

When Thane had first heard the word academy, he had imagined a large building. Perhaps two or three at most.

Having a training yard too, that much was what he expected.

Blue Leaf had shattered his imagination instead, giving him a city on a hill.

Stone walkways crisscrossed the enormous campus, weaving through carefully tended gardens and clusters of towering maple and blue leaf trees from which the academy took its name.

Elegant fountains adorned open courtyards. There were even water streams flowing beneath arched bridges of polished white stone.

Some cities were smaller than that. Not to mention the towers where the staff resided.

Rows of dormitories stretched along the eastern quarter, each four stories tall and fitted with enormous glass windows... it seemed like a luxurious sight rare outside the wealthiest cities or nobles’ estates.

Excluding the Ironforge, of course.

The western side housed training facilities, where Thane had fallen in love immediately... with the place rather than anything else.

There were six separate combat arenas.

An enormous indoor coliseum.

Archery fields.

Mounted combat grounds.

Dedicated halls for wrestling, swordsmanship, spear combat, and martial arts.

The academy even possessed mechanical training constructs that looked like wooden soldiers. Another piece crafted by Bentram’s advanced technological engineering.

The first time Thane saw one move, he had punched it.

Which resulted in obvious destruction. The incident didn’t leave the instructors pleased in the slightest.

At the center of the entire campus stood the Grand Hall. A magnificent structure of pale stone, rising seven stories high.

Blue banners bearing silver leaves fluttered around it.

According to Max, the hall contained classrooms, libraries, archives, meeting chambers, laboratories, and offices.

According to Thane, it contained "too many stairs," or rather... too many reasons for him to get lost.

Their dormitory lay near the southern gardens.

The first-year students had been divided into two residences.

Dormitory Oak housed male students, while Dormitory Cedar housed females.

Thane, Max, Conor, Simon, and Rimon had all been placed together in Cedar.

Sky had predictably been assigned to Oak alone, away from the group.

She complained that it was unfair.

Thane complained that the girls’ dormitory smelled better.

That statement had earned him a punch that he probably failed to notice.

"This place is absurd," Conor said as they approached the Grand Hall.

The swordsman looked around with poorly concealed awe. "I’ve never seen anything like it."

"No one in Bentram has," Max replied. "Blue Leaf is ranked third for a reason."

Rimon swallowed nervously, "I heard the library alone contains more books than the royal archives."

Simon nodded immediately. "Twenty-seven thousand, four hundred and nineteen volumes."

Everyone turned toward him.

Simon shrank. "I asked."

Conor laughed. "Gods, Simon. You really belong here."

The strategist flushed.

The four boys entered the Grand Hall alongside hundreds of other students.

The interior proved even grander than the exterior.

Marble floors reflected sunlight streaming through enormous windows. Paintings depicting legendary battles and historical figures adorned the walls.

Statues stood at regular intervals, commemorating former graduates who had risen to greatness.

Kings.

Generals.

Scholars.

Merchants.

Even one emperor.

Thane paused before a particularly imposing statue.

The man depicted possessed seven lines upon his face and carried a warhammer larger than most men.

Thane grinned. "He looks strong."

Max read the inscription. "’Marshal Godfrey Ironforge. Founder of Borderstone’s Eastern Defenses.’"

Thane blinked. "That’s an Ironforge?"

"Apparently."

"Huh?"

He scratched his head. "Father never mentioned him."

Conor stared. "How many famous ancestors do you people have?"

Thane thought. "A lot."

Eventually, they arrived at Classroom Seven.

Unlike the cramped village schools many had attended, this chamber resembled a noble’s banquet hall. Rows of polished desks curved gently toward a raised platform at the front.

Large windows overlooked the academy gardens. Bookshelves lined the rear walls. A massive map of the continent hung behind the instructor’s podium.

Twenty-one students filled the room, each from different backgrounds and aspirations. They all gathered inside.

The students naturally gravitated toward familiar faces.

Thane sat between Max and Conor. His enormous frame occupied nearly two seats.

Several students whispered while glancing his way, but he ignored them.

Mostly because he had discovered a basket of complimentary pastries. The giant was finishing his fourth when the classroom doors opened.

An elderly teacher soon entered, bringing silence with his steps.

He walked with measured gait, carrying a stack of books beneath one arm.

Two black lines decorated his weathered face.

His hair had surrendered entirely to age, yet despite his years, his eyes remained very sharp.

He placed the books upon the desk, then slowly surveyed the class.

No one spoke, or moved.

Even Thane stopped chewing.

After several moments, the old man nodded.

"Good." His voice was gentle.

"I am Professor Ringo," he said as he turned to the board and started writing.

"I teach history."

He looked around again.

"Some of you believe history is merely the study of dead men."

"Others think it is irrelevant to the era," Professor Ringo smiled faintly.

"Those people generally die young."

A ripple of nervous laughter spread through the room.

Thane, on the other hand, helplessly yawned. Unfortunately, it came out too loud.

The entire classroom froze, turning to him. Max closed his eyes; fate had been playing him a lot recently.

Conor whispered desperately. "Thane."

"What?"

"Stop."

"I’m tired."

Professor Ringo slowly turned, his gaze settled upon the giant. "You find my presence exhausting already, student..."

"Thane."

"Thane what?"

"Just Thane."

Several students snickered.

Ringo raised an eyebrow. "Very well."

"Just Thane."

"Why are you tired?"

Thane answered honestly. "I woke up early."

The class erupted into laughter.

Professor Ringo regarded him for several long seconds.

Then, unexpectedly, he nodded. "A fair answer."

More laughter.

Max looked astonished.

Most instructors would have thrown Thane outside.

Ringo merely folded his hands.

"Student Thane, do you know why history is important?"

Thane considered carefully.

"No."

"Excellent."

Now everyone looked confused.

Professor Ringo smiled. "Honesty is preferable to ignorance pretending to be wisdom."

He walked slowly before the class. "History matters because men repeat themselves.

"They love.

"They hate.

"They conquer.

"They betray.

"They wage war.

"They dream.

"And inevitably, they fail."

He stopped beside an enormous map. "Kingdoms rise."

"Then gradually fall.

"Borders change.

"Names change.

"Yet, what about the people?"

He tapped the map with a thin finger. "People rarely change. They don’t change... nor do those recorded by history."

The old professor’s eyes swept across the room.

"You are the future leaders of this continent."

The room remained utterly silent. Professor Ringo nodded approvingly.

"Our first lesson concerns the Founding Age, the era of the Eight Crowns."

He picked up a piece of chalk.

"Now then, who can tell me why the Great Murak Empire has never attempted to conquer the entire continent?"

Nearly every student avoided eye contact.

One hand slowly rose... Simon’s.

Professor Ringo smiled. "Excellent.

"It appears at least one of you read the assigned material."

Thane leaned toward Max. "There was assigned material?"

Max stared. "It was delivered to our dorm three days ago."

"Oh." Thane frowned. "I thought that was decorative."

Max quietly prayed for strength.