- Genres
- Fantasy Romance, Scifi
It was only three short weeks, but each day was long and grueling. Waking up with the Reveille blaring followed shortly be inspection. Some were more problematic than other, some might fail to keep their uniform in proper condition, or fail to keep their bed orderly and neat. And often times, these failings of their peers were placed upon all of them. Soon after they were brought to practice all kinds of weaponry. Some may have excelled at one more than another, but each was given its time as their focus, and drilled deep into their minds were standard forms and maneuvers. Of course swordplay was the least of their concerns. That could be trained at a later time.
For them, when exercise was not their main focus, they were brought to "The Range" to practice the basics of what granted them this opportunity to begin with: Their access to Prima and Magic. They were taught the basics: How Prima is in essence, chaos. It is the possibility of all things, and that in order to properly harness it one must have a strong tie to something outside their own survival: A Devotion.
But while all this was difficult and might have convinced more than a few to settle on the loss of some of their freedoms. However, for those who stayed a new world opened up to them. Now, they have traded their group barracks for far more comfortable dorms, and the dozens of roommates with just 1.
In the Grand Hall of the Academy the feast is being held. It is a formal event, but as not all come from the wealthy families, there are a number of students wearing their formal Uniform rather than their own formal clothing. Perhaps by chance, or by fate, or by sheer dumb luck, a group of students find themselves seated nearby. Some might have forged minor bonds during basic training, others may have been too busy not passing out. But regardless, 13 soldiers, 13 new recruits all sit beside one another. Many come from Noble families, but some come from more... extraneous worlds.
There, sitting in an elegant black dress matched with a scarlet rose pinned in her hair sits the Mortar Family prospective successor, Angeline, who seems to be keeping up airs, and making idle chatter politely when talked to.
But that was when around their table, the blonde-haired young man stood up in front of his group, clinking a glass with a fork. "Hey, hey! I know I might not know all of you, but I've never been too concerned about that sort this thing. So whether we knew each other or met in basic, or even if this is the first time we're speaking together for the first time, I want to say a few words. For as long as I stand, I'll dedicate my life and limb to you all and keep everyone safe, or else I, Taric, am a failure to the Everthorn Family name. So then, since we're going to likely be entering into battle together soon, I say we each introduce ourselves. But I warn you, I'm terrible with names."
He looked around the table at all the faces nearby, soon landing upon the beauty in the black dress, who smirks as she shrugs. "Oh dear, if you insist. I've heard of the persistence of the Savior of the Everthorn family. Very well then. Angeline of House Mortar. I do believe I see others who share my name here as well. To my dear cousins, please, no need to feel intimidated. My position in the house does not dictate my position in A.R.M.S. We are equals at this table" Her voice was calculated, diplomatic. She clearly meant to abide by her words, even if they felt only for show.
