Book 2: Chapter 3
“NOOOOOOOO! WHY?! WHY CAN’T I WIN?!” screamed a voice that rippled through the open classroom.
In the room were three boys and a single girl, huddling around a large desk marked with geographic symbols and pawns to represent the positions of soldiers. These pieces were intended for tabletop military exercises.
“That makes thirty-two losses out of thirty-two… I thought I had the blood of our proud troops running through my veins! But it turns out I’m a total diiiiiiiiiisgrace…!” wailed one of the members—the heaviest boy out of their group of four, named Glen.
“Get a grip, Glen. You keep getting caught in the same way,” spoke the twiggy boy across from him. His name was Strang. “If you can’t win with force, you gotta consider other strategies. I mean, staying the course sounds good in theory, but you’re just being careless, especially if your stubbornness keeps you from improving. Plus, this inflexibility will cost you the lives of tens of thousands of soldiers.”
“Geez, I know! You think I can’t even count the lives of my comrades? You think I’m a beast?”
“Well, even an animal would learn after thirty losses, which makes you worse.”
Listening to their conversation, the third boy burst into laughter. Wein.
“Ha-ha-ha! He’s tearing you a new one, Glen. Is your lineage just for show?”
“Damn you, Wein! I won’t forgive anyone who dares insult me—much less my family!”