Strength is never determined by how much you break, but by how much you can endure.

Or that's what the other people say, anyway.

It has been already a month since I enlisted in the Kingdom of the Sun's army. My brand new life is about as exciting as riding Roger's Kalta throughout the prairie. Sure, it can be a pain sometimes, but for the most part, it's incredible.

But incredible wouldn't be the right word to describe this new life of mine.

Everyday, at exactly the first dawn, we are all forced to wear our bodies out until the sixth horn by noon. At that point, we were all given an hour to eat up, do cool down exercises, and prepare for the rest of the day. The morning often specializes in molding your body to become more fit for the army, and the afternoon would lead to weapon training. Although it may sound less intense than the morning half, the weight of certain weapons would make some people struggle.

I sure did with the lance.

Although Sharice was doing absolutely fine with it. Better than everyone else, in fact. If I remember it correctly, she was the only one to be bold enough to wield it for the remainder of the training regimen. Thus, she was transferred to another platoon, and instead went on to specialized weapon training by another field adviser.

For me, this past month made my body a lot stronger than before. I was actually happy with what the training did to me. It is as if I am now comfortable with my own body. My breathing is now deeper, more even, and relaxed than ever before, and my mind is at peace for most of the time. We are beginning our 7th week of training, and, assuming my comrades rest up well, we are fresh from a long, eventful, yet relaxing weekend. It was nothing short of a well deserved break after all those weeks of intensive training. Especially now after some of my comrades had broken bones in questionable areas. Now, I am ready for whatever drills they have in store for us.

Or at least, that's what I should be saying.

I wasn't able to rest easy, for I knew the void season was right around the corner. Then, like an unexpected visit from an old nemesis, the pain in my right arm was now beginning to come back to haunt me. And to make matters worse, it was starting to hurt more and more with each passing moment. I don't want to jump to conclusions and say that this is the curse, but really, what sort of explanation was left for me? Father is gone, and I'm sure it is not just him who would be transforming soon enough. Thanks to the training, I have been able to endure a lot of pain, and thanks to this curse, it was able to seal up my bloodied wounds. However, every time it did heal me, every time it did try to sustain me, the pain would always find a way to crawl its way back unto my arm. This time was no exception, and this time, however, I wasn't at all injured.

Though, despite all that, this time was different.

The pain was as I remember it to be, familiar as a worn down scenery, but something feels off. Terribly off. I can't quite describe it, like an itch I cannot scratch. I don't feel the crystals emerging at all, but my skin felt like it was drenched in a pool of boiling water. It was numb, yet painful. I stared at my open palm, the mark of the curse glowed; it was taunting me of my weakness. But, I have to hold no grudges, not anymore. Whatever this foreboding feeling I have, I am quite certain that I am mentally prepared for an ordeal like what happened to my father, if ever such a thing ever arises. Void season is drawing near and I truly fear that something might happen, like I went mad and started to eat and kill my comrades because I wasn't strong enough to contain it.

I could only suppress it for so long. Was I foolish to pick up the blade after all this time? Was smearing more blood on my name worth it for this foolish act of running away from what was destined to be a peaceful life? Even the words "peaceful" and "life" in the same sentence describing my future would not do me any good.

But right now, I should not let this dread, these very doubts eat me up from the inside out. After all, I still have duties to attend to and that's what is important. For now, I have to wait for a solution to this problem, a cure for this curse.

Though, at this point, I'm sure what I'm asking for is nothing short of a miracle.

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Every single one of my comrades were now engaging in the habit of being early for the morning training sessions, which was refreshing to say the least. We realized that it was useless for us to chicken out, and it was already expected after the first week that we would run around the encampment for a set amount of times before engaging in the more practical exercises later on.

I look around and everyone was already starting to do warm ups, even when the field adviser hasn't arrived yet. I started to join them after contemplating where the Sun was after a few moments.

"Hey, Roxas. Great weekend, huh? Can't believe Colonel Levon threw that big banquet out of nowhere!" Armando chirped as he finished up his final stretches. "I couldn't even walk after that one. Boy, was I stuffed." Doran said, rubbing his big belly as he sat down on the cool twilit grass. I gave Doran a hand. He happily obliged to take it as I pulled him up, before turning to the both of them, "We needed that rest, all hell broke loose last week." I looked out from the opening to the encampment, and saw the robes that we all were disappointed to see. "Let's line up, field adviser is here..."

Murmurs echoed around the cold, clearing air as we arranged ourselves into five single file lines as fast as we could. We all could hear Field Adviser Marshall's heavy foot stomps as he makes his way into the open clearing. Like a cue from old assistants, the Sun's rays were now dividing the pinkish hue in the sky, its orange light piercing the darkness of the West as Marshall was now situated in front of us.

"Good morning, trainees!" he greeted us with a sharp smirk. "Good morning, sir!" we bellowed back at him. "It seems everyone is on time today, even the usual offenders..." Officer Marshall's eyes narrowed as he stared at the men at far back of the 4th line. With a satisfied grin plastered on his face, he turned to the rest of us. "Alright! You know the drill! Five laps around the encampment! MOVE!" With a loud and audible whistle, the first line moved quickly and jogged up to the usual jogging route. Me and Doran, being in the second line, followed suit as soon as the opportunity to set the pace had shown itself. We couldn't slow down and match paces with Armando, since he is at the fifth line, me and Doran had to painstakingly continue without regarding our friend. Plus, even jogging now had to be organized and clean. No one was allowed to break formation.

At this point in our training, five laps around the encampment was already beginning to be a breeze for most of us. The intense cardio exercises we were tasked to perform last week had worn out our bodies, as far as we're concerned, to most of our limits. Some had passed out by the end of the day and had to rest in the Infirmary for the remainder of the night. Others surpassed the exhaustion and pushed themselves to finish the exercises, although they had come to regret it soon after. And a hand few of people, myself included, had miraculously survived the hellish training. However, we were excused for a day's time as we were bedridden for one whole day before the weekend.

Though the training did a number on our bodies, and it may seem that we our morale was lower than it ever was, we all can't deny that it paid off and the banquet Colonel Levon threw last weekend made it all worth it. Armando was now having an easier time catching up with these laps, and Doran had shown fewer signs of exhaustion since the fourth week. Now, five laps around the encampment seemed like an easy warm up exercise. Even easier than the ones on the first week, dare I say.

At least, that's what I really want to say.

The lingering pain on my arm was bothering me to the point where I was sweating nervously around the fourth lap or so. "You alright there, Roxas?" Doran ran up beside me, struggling to keep up with my speed. I merely nodded as I suppressed the pain before shooting forwards, finishing my final lap. I was far from being out of breath, but it wasn't entirely easy to fully conceal my agony.

"POSITION!" Officer Marshall's voice echoed through the cool clearing. We immediately fell in line, but this time all the single file lines were now horizontal. We were still within our respective files, we merely turned to the right to face where the field adviser was.

Without saying a single word we began to perform basic training, starting with completing a hundred push ups under at least two to three minutes. As I have said before, the training pretty much nullified all exhaustion from normal exercises. Most of us were able to get around at least 125 push ups without rest, but it was pretty risky. It was no surprise that we were all struggling to even get at least 50 or so push ups at first. But we pressed on and on, told our bodies that we had it within us, and just powered through the first few weeks.

Today was like those days.

As I approached my 67th repetition, my arms were slowly starting to give. It was not as if I was tired from the jog, and it wasn't because I didn't perform all the necessary warm ups too. The pain was already creeping on towards my chest. I was now sweating profusely, and soon, as I've feared, my face was already planted on the cool grass.

It was an absolute embarrassment. Luckily, I picked it back up before Officer Marshall could even see me. I took a look at my right, glancing at Doran. I suspected he was looking at me, and I was right. Doran, like the good hearted guy that I know, looked at me with a shocked expression. It was clear that even his suspicions were right. I sighed as I finished my 99th repetition; I knew it was already too late to lie to him.

All the basic exercises after that weren't so bad. Exercises that involved me lying my back unto the grass was not problem at all. What really made me struggle was pull ups. I admit, pull ups weren't exactly my forte. Worse of all, I didn't even managed to reach the minimum of 50 pull ups. That lead to an angry Officer Marshall shouting at me at the top of his lungs. I remained silent. He wasn't a man to take any excuses, even if you have all the right to do so. He's just that stubborn. "GET YOUR HEAD IN THE GAME, PRIVATE!" he said. "IF YOU DON'T EXERCISE DISCIPLINE NOW, HOW THE HELL ARE YOU SUPPOSED TO DO THAT IN YOUR POSTS!?" and he kept droning on and on. Well, not exactly drone, but it's exactly what it felt like.

It reminded me of how my father used to scold me about certain things. Mother would tell him off, of course, so I never actually experienced getting yelled at non stop. I almost wished my ears bled so I could get to the Infirmary as soon as possible.

After basic exercises, we all headed to the obstacle course. Each private in our platoon was tasked to overcome this simple yet highly demanding obstacle course. Throughout the training up to this point, we moved through the obstacles as one unit. Some days, we were tasked to finish the course as fast as we could. Other times we would repeat a course a certain amount of times. However, there is only one similarity between all those times we had during obstacle training: we would all be completely exhausted afterwards.

Looking back, I wonder if the same would happen today. Many did pass out on the first few weeks, though slowly but surely we started to prevent ourselves from collapsing after the morning training session.

Throughout the obstacle course, you could find a total of six obstacles: a long wire crawl pit, a rope swing, a large rope wall, balance beams, one set of hurdles, and a set of monkey bars. This is also the order in which one needs to tackle every obstacle in the course. The whole purpose of this test is what I remember Officer Marshall saying, "This obstacle course was made to test all your physical capabilities as soldiers. This is the most well-rounded course you'll ever see in this continent!"

And to no one's surprise, he was absolutely right about that.

Collectively, doing everything at once would drain you for the most part. "TRAINEES GET INTO POSITION!". We were now back to the five single file lines. "Alright, all of you will have to clear the course as fast as you can. As soon as you hear my whistle, you can begin. We'll begin with the first line, starting with Gibson."

Private Gibson readied himself for the task ahead. The Sun was already shining down on all of us in the platoon. We all sat down on the grass, waiting with bated breath as Officer Marshall brought the whistle to his lips. Not a few seconds have passed, we heard the whistle cry out into the morning sky. And then, in an instant, Gibson was already on the mud pit.

It was a long crawl for all of us, and the fact that razor sharp wires were hanging above the mud gave little room for breathing. Gibson was naturally gifted with athletic prowess, something one-third of the platoon has. For him, the mud crawl only lasted not longer than fourteen seconds. He approached the rope swing, and finished it as quickly as he made his way up to it. Everyone was cheering him on.

I have to admit. Watching a fellow soldier in the same platoon charge through this course was nothing short of inspiring. Fate had already told all of us that Gibson would be the standard that we ought to be aspiring to, and to be honest, it is working. Taking a quick glance around me, the very answer lied in the faces of every single soldier around me. Everyone wasn't fighting over who is better, everyone wasn't asserting their self-proclaimed air of dominance. I realized that on the fourth week, where everyone was at their lowest. Even lower than last week. Rather, this was a group of people who would die for each other, and fight to see another Sunrise. This was ironic for me, though. One step outside my platoon, and people around me just didn't care about names like mine.

Fate was as confusing as the very thoughts of a person. I couldn't understand it for one second.

As my thoughts drifted away from the training, Gibson had already finished the course. The next soldier was already readying himself to do the same thing Gibson had done just a few moments ago, and I could tell from his sweaty face that he wasn't mentally prepared for it. It was like watching a anxious person come up to greet people they don't know. Somehow, it gave me a feeling of déjà vu.

One by one, each private was successful in completing the course so far. After a while, the first line was already finished. Our line moved to the start line as our fellow comrades cheered us on, with everyone giving their own unique motivational jeers. I turned to Doran, who grabbed me by my right shoulder. "Hey, we're up next. You ready?" I merely gave him a motivated nod.

I'm sure nothing bad will happen on my attempt, right?

I watched my line mates complete the course. Little by little, my anxiety was evident by the wetness of my palms. As moments became minutes, it was finally my turn. "You can do it, alright?" I heard Doran whisper at me before I walked on towards the start line. Taking a deep breath, I mentally prepared myself for this ordeal. The pain was subsiding, and there was nothing holding me back. I tensed up, eager for the whistle to blow.

Then it did...

I immediately dived onto the pit and felt the cool mud stain my red and grey uniform with brown. We were taught to crawl effectively, and I did just that. Though my knees and elbows hurt as I dragged myself to the end of the pit, I did not bother me at the slightest. In fact, I felt my blood pump harder.

This was absolutely exhilarating.

I carried myself and ran to the rope swing. Without hesitation, I grabbed unto the rope and swung, my feet moved on their own as they grasped the lower end. One moment had passed, and I already landed on both of my feet. The cheers coming from my comrades were now inaudible. The only thing I could hear was my own raging heart beat. I felt invincible, and it was only getting better from there.

At first glance, the rope wall was the most intimidating obstacle here. But, as with all first impressions, they're somewhat misleading. Pulling myself to the top of the wall, I immediately rappelled downwards on the other end. My feet ached from landing, but I merely shrugged it off and ran towards the balance beams.I thought that this was in the bag. I thought that nothing could stop me. There was no pain, after all.

But, I was dead wrong.

I ran up towards one of the beams, just three meters off the ground. I took one step forward, and without warning, my vision began to black out. I felt all my strength leave my body at once. The last thing I saw before my eyelids closed was my body falling down unto the dirt below the beams.

My consciousness faded into the darkness.

I could only see shades of black wistfully dancing in the abyss in front of me. Then, I saw it again. I do not know what it meant, but now it was the second time I saw this. I remember it clearly, and I remember when was the last time I saw this.

The Sun being covered in darkness, its fire dripping from its own rims. Though, this was no dream. I could feel it wasn't. The haziness was not there, so was the incomprehensible gibberish that prevented you from ever thinking.

This was something else.

I felt my own body getting hotter with each passing second. Then, the Sun wasn't at all fazed by the darkness covering it. What intrigued me was that it was somehow hotter than it was when it was completely free. Its fire intensified as I felt my own consciousness break free from the heat of the Sun. My mind was overwhelmed by things I didn't quite comprehend, and like a snap of my finger, I opened my eyes to the real Sun in the sky,

"Von Zayne! Von Zayne! Oh thank the Sun, he's finally awake!" Officer Marshall hovered over me while my fellow comrades circled me a short distance away. "Sir, what happened?" I instinctively asked him as my hand grasped my forehead. It seems my mind was still not in place. "You blacked out in the course, soldier. I think you need to go to the Infirmary." "No, sir! Permission to attempt the course a second time, sir!" "What did I say soldier!? Private Leningrad!" Armando immediately responded, "YES, OFFICER MARSHALL SIR!" "Take Von Zayne to the Infirmary. Return immediately. The rest of you, back in line!"

Armando gave me a hand. I had no choice but to take it. "What happened back there?" Armando asked me. Even without Doran here with us, it already clear that I had worried the two of them. I haven't told them of the curse. I thought that they wouldn't understand. But in this world that is abundant with magic, I think it was about time I tell them. It wouldn't hurt at all. In fact, I believe that telling them would help me. But, as of right now, this wasn't the perfect moment to do it. I needed both Armando and Doran at the same time. Sighing to my own realization, I told him, "I'll tell you..." "Why not now? I mean-" he paused. I did not glance at him, but he understood my situation immediately. His face had shown it. "Alright... Let's get you to the Infirmary first."

I did not feel my strength come to my legs any moment sooner. So with my right arm across Armando's shoulders, I allowed him to carry me to the Infirmary.

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Armando had already briefed Elijah about what happened and left as soon as he could, leaving me in Elijah's care for possibly the rest of the day. "So you passed out, huh?" I simply nodded. "Alright then, I'll proceed to check on your body." Elijah then recited inaudible incantations before his hands glowed a bright blue hue. His hands turned green and proceeded to hover his hands on me from head to toe. "Your vitals seem normal; no abnormalities just yet. You're well rested, too." He pondered on the results of the check. He knew something was off, and it was clear he is annoyed by it. His hands turned back to the bluish hue. "I'll check on your soul energy now..."

At first, Elijah had found nothing note worthy. Until he reached my right arm.

"What is that!?" Elijah stepped back, somehow horrified at what he saw. "My condition... my curse..." "Whatever it is, it's disrupting your flow of energy! It's harmful, Von Zayne! It's like a living parasite." From anyone's perspective, being told you have a parasite living in your body is nothing short of a shock to your system. Despite living with this kind of condition my whole life, I have tolerated it at the least, painstakingly coexisted with it.

But I only fear one thing: I don't know what it can do next.

"I'll be fine, there's nothing you can do with it anyway. No offense, though..." I said, grabbing my dirtied uniform off of the nearest rack. "It's my job to-" "I'm sorry to have brought this upon you, Elijah, but I have training to attend to." "Never mind. If anything happens again, don't hesitate to come here. We'll do what we can."

"Thanks, healer..." with that, it was the fastest visit to the Infirmary I have so far.

It was true that Elijah, and possibly all of the healers stationed in the Infirmary, couldn't do anything about this curse. I should have this all under control for now. What I fear is another outburst, and I don't want to lose this new life I'm investing my all into. It's too early for that.

Whatever happens, I need to face it head on. No matter what.

I immediately made my way back to the training field, only to find everyone going back into the encampment. Training was already over. "Hey, Roxas!" I heard Doran call me down on the hill, with Armando beside him waving at me. I answered the call by running to the both of them. "Are you good now?" Armando asked me immediately before I even got the chance to speak. I needed to be honest, it was about time I stopped keeping secrets. I don't even have much to hide anymore, nor do I have any reason to. "The Infirmary couldn't do much. I'm feeling a lot better, at the least..." Much to my surprise, both of them sighed in relief. "Let's get back to our tents. I don't like mud at all..." Doran complained as he ran up the hill. Only now did I realize that I was covered in mud, too. Somehow my mind went wandering off while I was walking back here. Nevertheless, me and Armando were also in disgust on how things went this morning.

As I was walking back to my tent, I saw Sharice also covered in mud. "Sharice!" I called her. It took her no less than two seconds to notice me. She immediately jumped with joy and ran towards me, like a lost child running with her parent.

Throughout the month, Sharice and I slowly became close friends. Before she got transferred to another platoon, as I have said, due to her innate abilities and raw talent with using a lance that was double her body weight, she was the only person I've ever been around. Not that I had feelings for her or anything, she is a stubborn child with a soft side and a troubled past and I absolutely love that about her, but I'm more attracted to kinder, gentler women. At least, that's what Nolva was anyway. We would go to the Capitol and do some shopping for whatever it was we needed that time, we ate our meals together, we were practically inseparable before her transfer.

So times like these weren't so frequent anymore, although it gave us more time to appreciate moments like these.

"Obstacle course?" Sharice asked me with an obvious and dominant smirk on her face. She became more and more expressive to the point where people around her start to get annoyed by her. I'm suspecting she's going to get transferred from company to company due to this attitude of hers, but to me, it's more or less tolerable if you ever decide to invest on it.

For me, I had no choice, but it was all well and worth the effort anyway.

"Pretty much. See you at the hall in a few minutes?" It was nearing noon, and speaking from experience, both of us don't want to get in line for the food. You'll starve before you even get the chance to sit. "You bet your butt I do! Gotta go change first, though..." "Ah, right. See you there!" Sharice and I exchanged nods before we headed towards our respective tents.

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"Oh yeah! Specialized Lancer Training is soooo much fun! How is everyone in the ol' company?" Sharice was stuffing her face with red meat as she spoke. I have to admit, even though I am quite used to this sight of her stuffing her face with food with no table manners, it still makes me uncomfortable. Regardless, I decided to reply to her instead of pondering about it too much. It was rude to her, anyway. "You know how it goes. Just plain training. We are getting swords this week though for our afternoon training..." It took too long, one whole month in fact, before I could even hold a proper blade since Officer Naya confiscated it from me a while back. "Finally getting your old sword back, huh? Whatever happened to that old thing, anyway?" "I don't even know, Sharice. It bothers me 'cause I've had that sword for almost two years..." "Does it have to be THAT sword, though?" I merely shrugged.

I don't even know why I was getting so upset about a flimsy old sword. Maybe it was the fact that I had it for so long that it upset me the way it did. Whatever the case, what Sharice said was right, any other sword would do it for me. As far as I remember, I could even do the thing with my curse with just my bare hands. It doesn't have to be that one stolen sword under a cold night around dancing embers.

"You found any friends, yet, Sharice?" I asked her as gently as I possibly could, but she still choked on her freshwater. Coughing a bit, she cleared her throat before answering in a shrill voice, "N-no!? I can't even talk to them since they're soooo OLD!" "They're not THAT old, are they?" "That's not the point! I CAN'T EVEN MAKE FRIENDS WITHOUT YOU!" as much as I would take what she just told me as a compliment, it was rather sad for Sharice to say that. She is, after all, rather harsh with her words. I couldn't be the only one to have noticed how she spoke to everyone. She has an ego you have to get by, but seeing her pulling her hair out of frustration that she sucks at social stuff, I could only sigh in defeat.

Though, in all honesty, I couldn't do anything about it. I can't be the one to give advice all the time, can I?

I look around the hall, I couldn't see neither Armando nor Doran at all. I'm sure they were also getting to the banquet hall as well. But, even if that were the case, I couldn't find either of them. "What's up? What'cha lookin' for?" "Doran and Armando..." I turned to Sharice. She was also looking for both of them, but to no avail. "Huh, now that you've mentioned it..." "They always come to the banquet hall, especially at this hour..."

We've waited several more minutes for them, but they didn't come.

I didn't want to think of it that way, but I couldn't deny the feeling that, this too, was off. Everything is off today it seems, like the world is telling me to open my eyes to something. However, I'm still figuring that part out. "Whatever, I'm going back to my tent. See ya some other time, Roxas!" "Take care..." She stood up and walked away. It was clear she was upset about leaving me, but at the same time she was bored of waiting for them.

I guess I no longer have a choice.

I went back to my tent, waiting for the next horn to sound. I still have St. Paula's robe hanging near the bedding. Ever since we were issued our uniforms, we were not allowed to wear anything on top of it. Though we do have our own uniforms, we are still waiting for our own armor. I don't know when we are going to be issued our very own full body chain mail, and, as far as I can remember, not one officer so far has mentioned anything about it since our orientation and processing.

Who knows? Maybe sooner or later, we'll be patrolling the Kingdom with our heads held high...

This new life in the military really made my life of solitude absolutely dull. I have already read mother's pocket book a hundred times already. It was no longer the horrifying nightmare I remember the stories used to be. Now, mother's writing is the one of the few things that gives me comfort. Only then did I realize that mother truly did love both me and father.

Seems I was too focused on one thing to not know that before...

As my mind faltered, twisted and turned throughout the measly moments, the 7th horn has bellowed across the encampment. It was time for the afternoon sessions to begin.

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I came to the training grounds in the Southern section of the encampment. There, they say it was usually the place where "The Hunt" takes place. I'm sure only a hand full of soldiers are fit to even enter such an event.

As far as I heard from most people, specifically noblemen who gave their time to explain the event to us, The Hunt is where soldiers from all divisions in the military would compete to slay as many game and beasts within a certain time frame. I've heard that it normally takes an hour, but rumors say that the longest Hunt lasted for 27 days, with the number of slain beasts reaching up to 500. Although, those are mere rumors. It is an annual event, celebrating abundance in the Kingdom of the Sun. The shining silver armor that was displayed on the make shift balcony where the noblewomen would sit symbolizes the prestige and honor that many soldiers in this army would dream of having.

I wonder if I'll ever reach that height...

I came up to my comrades who were just sitting under a tree's shadow. It was still noon, after all. More often than not, the heat of the Sun would still be unbearable for some people. I experienced that heat first hand, so I know how much it can take a toll on your body if you let it crawl all over you for too long.

"Where were you two?" I immediately asked Armando off the bat. "I could ask you the same thing! We have been looking for you! Didn't we, Doran?" We looked at Doran who was fast asleep with a damp cloth covering his face. "Well it doesn't matter. I was in the banquet hall with Sharice, anyway." "Seriously, you could've just went to us first you know, or maybe you are in love with her." Armando's face lit up along a toothy grin that scared me a little. "No? We're just friends. That's it." "Sure, whatever you say Roxas. Just don't come to us when you're heartbroken from dating her, alright? Cool, hehe..."

Meanwhile, I kept my head cool. It was annoying, but it wasn't really the time for that.

Officer Marshall was already making his way up to us. With him were four other soldiers carrying a plethora of swords. Some of my comrades gave their groans of pain, but I didn't mind. It was, after all, about time that I had the chance of holding a proper blade again.

And it seems I'm the only one excited to wield it.

"SOLDIERS IN POSITION!" as soon as we heard that, we aligned ourselves accordingly. "Alright, as you may know, we shall be starting wielding swords this week. Today, I'll be teaching you the proper stance, the proper way to hold it, and doing efficient sword strikes." I tried my best to not look at my comrades' disheartened faces. "Von Zayne, you'll be serving as my model since you are already comfortable with the sword, as reported by Officer Naya." Murmurs flew all around as I walked up to the front beside him. Officer Marshall turned to me and handed me one of the swords as soon as I arrived. "This is the same sword Officer Naya confiscated from you. Don't worry, it has been restored and sharpened on her orders." I held the same blade I lost for some time. I felt the familiar grip on my fingers and, without a second thought and the slightest bit of hesitation, unsheathed the blade from its scabbard. It was the same, but the silver reflected my face on it as clearly as it could, and it was lighter than before. Sheathing it, I then fastened the sword on my body excitedly, and with a smile, I adjusted the pommel accordingly as the handle hovered behind my right shoulder. I reached backwards and unsheathed the sword one more time from the scabbard, and felt the breath of life overtake me as I took in the very moment.

It felt like home.

"Now then, we'll start with the proper way of holding." Officer Marshall grabbed my sword hand without warning before continuing. "This is already the proper method. See how his fingers are tightly gripping the handle of the sword? Always keep your fingers firm..." He then took my free hand. "Now, if you're wielding it with both hands, in this case, Private Von Zayne here is one handed, you take your free hand and grip the pommel as you would with the actual grip of the sword. All of your fingers must hold the pommel; pretend it's like the grip of the sword. This allows you to control your strikes."

For a while, I merely stood there as he controlled me. I wasn't comfortable with it, but at least I was still holding my blade. It lacked the freedom that I wanted to have, but it all was going to change soon.

"SOLDIERS IN POSITION!" Officer Marshall called again. My heart was racing in excitement, for I knew what was going to happen next. "We'll proceed with the sparring sessions the next day tomorrow. I'll give all of you the time today to practice and get comfortable with the sword." I'm not going to lie, but when he said that, I was incredibly disappointed. However, I couldn't argue with his decision. My comrades were not exactly skilled in wielding the sword.

They are, on the other hand, extremely talented when it came to the bow and so far, it wasn't my favorite choice of arms. Not by a long shot.

However, there was one twist I didn't expect from Officer Marshall.

"Private Von Zayne, you may wish to challenge me in a duel." I hadn't realized it at that particular moment, but I was smiling from ear to ear. I immediately ran up to the front and bowed down. "PERMISSION TO DUEL, OFFICER MARSHALL!" I yelled with absolute certainty in my voice. Everyone cheered, as Officer Marshall laughed in amusement. "Okay, okay. Everyone, gather 'round in a big circle. You're about to witness a duel."

After all those weeks, I think it's finally time to let loose for once.

Everyone gathered in an enclosed circle as instructed. It was about as big as the banquet hall. "Von Zayne, do you know the rules to a duel?" "Yes, sir!" "Then I don't need to explain, do I?" Officer Marshall turned around and took a knee. I did the same opposite from him.

There are certain rules to a duel within the Kingdom.

First, the only object that the blade needs to touch is another blade. One must always try to parry the other. If ever one is injured, seek a healer at once. Second, the duel is decided when one is pushed over the edge of a make shift circle. In this case, the audience. And finally, a duel should be treated as an art, portraying strength and control.

I stood up, unsheathed my blade, and took a stance. Of course, I did not follow the instructions earlier. I stood how I wanted to, and seeing Officer Marshall gaze me with judging eyes, I needed to prove to him my skill.

But, sometimes, there's often a twist in getting what we want.

A sudden throbbing pain invaded my right arm. I tried to ignore it and, before I knew it, I was already swinging at Officer Marshall. It was clear in his eyes that he was struggling to block my strikes. He did comment earlier that the way I swung my sword was faster than anyone he has ever seen, and it truly did show. Even so when I am only wielding it with one hand. However, he was still on even footing. I swung to the left, he barely caught the tip with the hilt. He slashed down, but the momentum of my swing carried me forward. In an instant, I changed my footing and ducked. I could feel the air come down unto my back as he missed his strike. Springing my legs upward, I lunged at him at a close distance. The tip of my sword is now barely touching his chin.

If I hadn't stopped myself, I could have skewered an officer's head.

"Impressive." He smiled at me. I stepped back, the duel had come to a staggering halt. Officer Marshall chuckled in glee. Everyone gave each other confused looks. Even I was surprised at his sudden jump of joy. At this point, everyone was now applauding us. "I don't remember a time when one of my trainees would push me back into a corner like that. That, Von Zayne, was truly skillful."

Before I could even smile at the compliment, pain had surged from my right arm. The pain began to numb my brain, and I was screaming at the intensity of it. I didn't even get to hear my own pained howls, and only too late did I realize that I was already curled up on the ground. I looked up as tears were already forming in my eyes, and saw the horrified looks of my comrades' faces. Even Officer Marshall wore a scared look.

Then, it disappeared.

I stood up. Dark clouds were fuming from my arm, from where the mark of the curse was. I could see the orange glow of the mark through the darkened fog. Then, a swirl of black and red energy remained. My mind was still in tact, and it did not hurt anymore. Looking at my arm, it was releasing energy.

My soul energy...

I was still sane, but I could feel it in my bones that this was the transformation that the world was expecting to see. My mind was still there, I could think, and I felt like I was still in absolute control of my own body. Though, that was not the only thing that was lingering in me. Now, I felt a new drive. A new desire, a hunger of sorts.

I wanted blood.

I didn't want to do it, but I felt myself grip on the sword and said to everyone, "Fight..."

Then I knew, at that moment, there was a new battle I needed to fight...

"FIGHT ME!"

"NOW!"