Hey, folks. This story is centred around an OC Galbadian Soldier, but please, give it a chance. His name is Zephon, stolen from the Legacy of Kain series because I have a little trouble with character names. Basically, it's the game from the point of view of the Galbadian military. One thing I'd like to make clear from the start, though – He does NOT fall in love with a canon character. Enjoy.

I own nothing, of course.

Training

Zephon forced himself to look up, and managed to parry the stroke just before it split his skull. After eight hours in desert heat, with only blizzard spells to keep him hydrated, his technique was getting sloppy. His counter was cut aside easily, and he staggered back, trying desperately to keep his balance. His adversary was just as tired as he, but he was the better swordfighter. The battle had been fierce, and now they were the last. He retreated, trying to get distance between them so he could use his magic, but a Geezard burst out from under the sand and he fell. Ordinarily, his visor would have detected the creature, but heat signatures were impossible to discern in an environment where sun warmed sand could burn at a touch. On his back, he lost his sword, and feeling the creature's hot breath on his face, only his hands kept its jaws from his throat. They struggled for an instant, before a sword burst through the monster's chest from behind. Throwing the corpse at his saviour, Zephon rolled and retrieved his blade.

They faced each other, trying to divine intentions through the inexpressive Galbadian military visor. However, in the army for a time, one got very good at reading the adversary's jawline, particularly if the speaker was someone you knew. Both were too tired to trust their talents, so Zephon decided to try another method.

"Thanks for that."

His opponent shrugged, maintaining his guard. "You're welcome. But don't thank me too soon."

Zephon allowed amusement to touch his voice. "Why not get some more clichés out of the way while we're at it?" As he spoke, he was watching for the smile that would signpost a drop in his adversary's guard. "It's time to end this, right here, right now!"

"You want it, come and get it!" Damn, he's on to me.

"I'll do whatever you want, just let the girl go."

The mouth opened slightly. "What? What girl?" Zephon lunged, but the opening wasn't quite enough to get him a kill, as his adversary cut aside the strike, and countered with a strike that dented Zephon's shoulder plate. "What girl?"

This time Zephon's smile was real. "Did you have one in mind?"

"Oh, you prick. That was mean." He feinted, then suddenly shrieked "It used to be about the music, man!"

Zephon couldn't help but laugh, and was almost undone by his own trick. At the last instant, he forced his opponent to dive aside from a Thunder spell. But he was up instantly and the clash of blades sent Zephon over backwards, rolling down the side of his dune. The other soldier followed at a run, aware distance would work to Zephon's advantage as far as magic went. But halfway down, part of the side of the dune collapsed under his feet, revealing six soldiers dressed in black beneath him. Zephon, his roll somehow having avoided the trapdoor, sprinted back up the side of the dune.

Inside the secret room, the other Galbadian trainee had landed on one of the mysterious strangers, eliminating one of them and cushioning his fall. As he landed, he swung his sword at the nearest, cutting into the back of his shin and dropping him. A Thunder spell from Zephon took care of a third, and a subsequent leaping slash brought down the fourth. Ordinarily, the thunder would have exploded his head, but in the magic dampening field, it served only as a knockout.

Zephon and his previous opponent glanced at the two surviving black clad soldiers. They'd done a good job of cutting down the odds, but these new soldiers were fresh, and the Galbadian trainees were both exhausted. It wouldn't be a contest. Zephon sighed, and took a casting stance. (The stance wasn't actually necessary, but most casters had habits of practice).

"Blizzard!" But his target was quicker.

"Reflect!" The unformed spell was repelled by the barrier and thrown straight back at him, but in casting his defence, the ambusher dropped his guard, and Zephon's erstwhile ally lunged across and tapped the other soldier on the throat with the flat of his sword. The soldier collapsed, while his companion took advantage of the Galbadian's wild lunge to attack his exposed side. Zephon, meanwhile, threw his hands up to shield himself from the crushing ball of ice that was his own spell. Nonetheless it hammered him into the ground and his legs gave way. Stunned – the increased strength from the Reflection had cancelled out the magic dampening, Zephon checked the health bar at the corner of his vision. The bare minimum. Perhaps it was best to stay down.

His opponent, then ally, put up a spirited fight, but the other soldier was fully qualified and fresh to battle. Eventually, the other Galbadian trainee dropped. When the victorious soldier sheathed his sword, Zephon arose and swung as hard as he could into the back of his helmet with the flat of his own blade, subsequently hitting his knees from sheer exhaustion.

"And that's time. Congratulations, Zephon Schwert, the last man standing." The various 'dead' people began clambering to their feet at the speaker's announcement.

His final opponent, Trevor, raised his head. "Trust you to play dead."

Zephon spread his arms. "Oh, come on, I took a hit for you."

"Scheming. You set me up!"

"I thought we were finished with the clichés?"

"..."

"Guess we'd better head back."

Later...

Zephon's training unit stiffened as the red clad officer approached. Eight of the ten were now full member s of the Galbadian armed forces. There was no jubilation at the announcement. After the devastation of the Sorceress War, nobody held any illusions about life in the military, but they had joined, each for their own reasons, and after the final exam, were now expected to follow the orders they were given. From the officer's heavy step, they were unlikely to be about to hear good news.

"I'm really sorry to be the one to tell you this folks, but I've just received communications from higher up. You're all to have a week's leave, on double wages, but report to the presidential residence at 1800 hours on this day next week for your assignment."

Only a week's leave was a little irritating after three months of heavy training, but there had to be more to it than that to provoke such a reaction from their officer. Sandra, who Zephon remembered 'killing' early in the exam, was the only one who dared to speak "What's the assignment?"

The officer sighed. "We're going to war." He turned on his heel and left, aware of the newly inaugurated Galbadian soldiers staring after him in total silence.