Here's chapter 1! Well not much to say here except that I own Jiro but that's about it so far. Other of my own characters will come but so far it's just Jiro. There is a surprise for all that care after the chapter. Please read and review…but above all else please enjoy!

The Final Exam

The sun was just rising as the east wind breathed across Jiro's face. The exams were finally over, and he had failed miserably. As he stood there in the plains that were the training grounds, shadows of wooden buildings silhouetted in the light of an infant sun stretched out to flood him in darkness.

It had been his dream to become a tactical general within the ranks of the Grandall army; to shine, as the sun did now, with his brother as one of the best officers in the history of Grandall. Those dreams have been slashed. How could he ever return home a failure; a disgrace to his family, a shame to his brother? A chance, all he needed was a chance to display his prowess in a field of battle. On paper you can only anticipate so much, but on the battle field, being able to see every move, every shift, every formation of his opponent's would allow him to foresee any trick or ploy his adversary would attempt. If he were given just one opportunity, he would make his brother proud. No, he would bring pride to his entire family!

Higher the sun rose, until it completely cleared the mountains separating him from his destination. The shadows slowly crept down his face until his entire visage became washed with Delthan's golden rays. Unable to bear the strenuous light, Jiro squinted his sapphire eyes, practically blurring his vision completely. The wind whipped at his hair, catching the long strands of brown and throwing them back across his cheeks and neck revealing his youthful features. His pitch cloak also caught and flapped backward with a soft cracking impression of a whip. His loose robe and slacks rippled across his chest and legs as the shadows receded farther, allowing the sun's beams to reflect off the white collar of his undershirt in stark contrast to his overlapping robe.

Dropping to his knees, Jiro closed his eyes and hid amongst the quickly withdrawing shadows of the wooden towers. He felt that basking in the warmth of Delthan was not a luxury he was worthy of. In the soft grass he knelt to the point when Delthan, agitated with Jiro's self pity, climbed above the towers, staining the training grounds in its entirety with yellow life. Why…why did the sun persist so? The question racked his brain for a logical answer. None was given though, no solution that satiated his hungry thoughts. He only wished for night; total darkness in which he could hide his mortification and ignominy.

"Jiro?"

Abelia. Though a classmate in studies, a rival during exams. She received the highest score on the last test; all her strategies resulting in nearly perfect outcomes for every artificial situation. Her mind was much sharper, and what's worse, she knew it; and she never missed a chance to prove it. Jiro's instincts, however, served him better. Abelia may reign in the classroom, but Jiro would rule on the battleground. She was all books; she had all the style, but no substance. Substance was worth nothing to trainees though. They had to prove their worth on paper before they were ever given a chance to lead in the training grounds.

"Are you listening?"

Abelia. Yould his memory of her haunt his mind? Would this failure cause an inferiority complex because he could not escape the mental grasp of his superior rival?

"Jiro!"

Jiro's eyes instantly opened causing him to grunt in pain from the temporary blindness the sun caused. He slammed them shut again, confining them to the blackness of his eyelids until his retinas no longer burned. Slowly, he opened them, starring straight into the wide eyes of his friendly foe. Abelia stood before him, a golden aura surrounding her as she blocked the sun, a stern look etched across her face. Jiro looked on lazily, disturbed that her image so easily penetrated the defense of his sub conscience.

"Honestly, pull yourself together!" she commanded, her sharp voice confirming Jiro's woeful suspicion that this was no mere daydream.

Though his mind registered the order, it could not process it, leaving Jiro to sit there defiantly, staring up into the eyes of his oppressor.

"Would you please get up and get ready?"

"What are you talking about?" Jiro asked stupidly, finally finding his voice.

Abelia rolled her eyes and the east wind ceased to blow, her curls falling down back over her ears. Those curls…how he hated those curls. If her entire head consisted of them it wouldn't mean a thing…but those two swirling tresses on either side of her face seemed to irritate him to no end for no feasible reason. "Don't you take anything seriously?"

Now Jiro was mad. She knew he viewed nearly everything critically; he just failed to discern anything of importance from her babbling. He took careful measure not to reveal his annoyance however, refusing to yield a single inch to the likes of her. Instead, he took it upon himself to insult her in turn. "You have those ugly cones dripping down your face and you ask if I'm serious? Those curls can take the seriousness out of war." Stupid. To say the least, a stupid comment and an unnecessary one. Now she knew she'd bothered him.

"Just get ready for the exam," she breathed. "Or would you rather fail this half too?"

Jiro's mind sparked with life. The exams were over, he failed. He was destined to live as a disgrace to his family for all eternity. Poets would write epics about his failure and Abelia's succession. What did she mean? "The exams are over," Jiro replied antagonistically.

"The written exams are over," Abelia corrected. "The field tests are about to begin."

It couldn't be…was it possible? Had Jiro really received the contingency he so richly desired? No. This was Abelia. It must be another gibe meant to insult his intelligence in order for her to maintain superiority. "What are you talking about?" Jiro repeated, desperate to catch her in her own ploy. She rolled her eyes again and revealed a letter signed by General Girardot, Supreme Tactical Commander. Jiro took the note impassively from her hand and examined its contents. It was unmistakably General Griardot's hand writing; hardly legible with random splotches of ink sprawled around the paper. In it was displayed Abelia's score on the exam as well as a congratulation by Girardot himself.

Jiro scoffed, thrusting the letter back into Abelia's hands. "If you intended to brag, you could have just announced your score again," Jiro complained.

"Did you read the rest?" Abelia asked despondently, dropping the letter in allowance for it to descend. Jiro snatched the paper, causing it to crumple in his fist.

"There better be a point to this," Jiro warned. He didn't expect a trick, but he wouldn't subscribe to the belief that the Fates were merciful either. Smoothing out the parchment, Jiro continued to read the sloppy chicken scratch Girardot excused for writing.

The last paragraph read: "The exam you took was, actually, only half of your final test, however. Tomorrow begins the field exam. Durring this time, you and your classmates will participate in mock battles on the training grounds. The amount of forces, as well as the number of strongholds, under your control will be directly proportionate to your score on the written exam. Conditions for winning, along with losing, will be discussed tomorrow. Bring you weapons as your wit will not be the only thing tested. Good luck, and get a good night's rest…you'll need it.

Jiro's mouth hung open in shocked disbelief. There really was a second half to the exam! Finally, a chance to prove himself in the field. The Fates must have some grander destiny in store for him. He looked back into Abelia's eyes; he longed to apologize but, once again, couldn't seem to remember how to speek.

Abelia shook her head, sighed and tore the paper from his hands. "Did you even read your letter?" she asked exasperatingly.

"Of course!" Jiro replied in fake resentment, his voice suddenly alive again. Of course, he had lied, and Abelia knew it. He had read some of the letter; the first paragraph to be precise . He'd stopped when he saw his score, letting the paper slip through his hands and descend to the floor at his feet the night before. That's when he'd made hid decision to head home, but he promised himself he'd traverse the training grounds before leaving.

Abelia responded indignantly, "Jiro! You should always read all your letters entirely! If you don't, you could make a mistake in command, and a mistaken command could lead to the annihilation of your forces." Of course, she was right; and a textbook remark at that. As a matter of fact, Jiro was almost positive the last part of her admonishment was recited verbatim from a book they read.

"So when is this all starting?" Jiro inquired curiously, ignoring Abelia's previous lesson on tactical letter reading.

"General Girardot is already here!" she exclaimed. Jiro's legs unfolded automatically at the foreboding thought of keeping the general waiting. "Brrad and Karll are waiting too!" she continued as if replying to Jiro's thoughts. Jiro's head swiveled like an owl's searching for any sight for his fellow classmates or a fuming general. Abelia pointed over his shoulder and the heels of his boots spun, leaving small trenches in the earth. Sure enough, he saw General Girardot followed by at least twenty cadets from the academy standing in formation at the southern end of the camp. Without hesitation, Jiro broke into a sprint leaving Abelia in a stupor of amazement. Jiro, though maybe not the most intelligent of his class, was easily the quickest and most graceful.

Jiro spotted Brrad and Karll standing at attention beyond their teacher, Girardot, and quickly made his way to join them. Taking a spot next to Karll, Jiro quickly brushed his knees and legs of any dirt they accumulated while he knelt in the grass earlier. He paused though as a pair of metal grieves emerged before him, leaving small tuffs of exploding dust with each step. Slowly, Jiro lifted his head, wincing slightly as every piece of painfully familiar armor came into his escalating view. Straightening his back, the face of a battle hardened general lay atop a metal breastplate across from him. Jiro immediately stood at attention, greasy sweat pouring from his pores, as Girardot continued to stare vehemently into his eyes.

Finally, Abelia arrived, panting from the exhausting dash she made in a fruitless venture to keep pace with Jiro. Girardot's lined face switched to Abelia as she doubled over, hands on her knees, losing her struggle to control her breathing. Jiro turned and smiled at Karll only to receive silent ridicule from the armored fencer. Jiro frowned, ducked his head, and turned it forward again; he'd screwed up. To his left, Abelia had straightened her posture and assumed the position the others held, though, Jiro noticed, her breathing was still heavy and forced. Another bead of sweat formed as an additional wave of guilt swept across him.

"Is everyone here?" General Girardot asked, his eyes flashing in Jiro's direction. Everyone was, of course, present, but he made no effort in hiding his annoyance with Jiro's lack of punctuality. "All right then," he continued, pacing along the small row of students. "I'm going to teach you baby birds what it means to be a commander. Those who command on the battlefield must issue a variety of instructions to their forces." General Girardot turned to the training grounds and opened his arms as if to embrace them. "Today, this is your battlefield, and they are your forces," he completed, gesturing to the armored cadets. "In battle, your lives are on the line. A mistaken command could lead to the annihilation of your forces." Jiro loosed a stifled laugh as he recognized the source of Abelia's reprimand. Girardot glared at Jiro causing his face to tighten with seriousness again.

He continued, "If you all read your letters," he gave a sideways glance to Jiro, "you'll know that the amount of soldiers you will lead for this half of your final exam is based on your score from the written exam. If you scored particularly high," he glanced at Abelia, "then you will receive many troops. Consequently, if you scored particularly low," he glanced at Jiro, "then you will receive few troops." Jiro's gut twisted into a knot causing him to lose a moment's breath. His fellow classmates, who all received high scores, suppressed a bout of laughter. "The untis you lose in battle, however, will be subtracted from you resources in the next battle. However, if you perform beyond expectancy, you will be rewarded with new forces." The knot in Jiro's gut weakened slightly allowing him to breath in relief. Perhaps he stood a chance after all.

"Of course I don't expect you to kill each other; any skirmishes will be conducted through standard sparring practices. The battles themselves will proceed in tournament style. First, Abelia and Brrad will face off, followed by Jiro and Karll. The winners of those matches will face each other tomorrow with whatever forces they have remaining. The winner of that match will proceed to the capital with me for one last test. The losers will head back to the academy for another year of training. Girardot scanned the faces of his students for any signs of tension and was pleased to discover that all four remained calm. His short, snowy beard conformed into a smile guided by the corners of his mouth. "As tactical commanders-in-training, I expect you to lead your companions with trustworthy orders. Just the same, I also expect you to heed their advice as that is the sign of a true commander. You carry the lives of your companions on your shoulders, so no pressure, but…"

(Yeah, right,) Jiro thought.

"But don't take this lightly." He concluded. "Abelia, Brrad, choose your units. The rest of you, clear the field! Begin the final exam!"

So, how'd you like it? I will be uploading the next chapter soon so hurry back. Oh and if you were wondering just what Jiro looked like…have I got a treat for you! These are the instructions for making Jiro in the Character Creation mode. NOTE: Some categories will be left out because they are empty.

Job: Sage

Hair: Long Straight 8.25

Lower Torso: Undershirt 1.14

Mid Torso: Warrior's Robe 1.27

Hands: Bandit's Gloves 8.25

Neck: Cloak 1.27

Waist: Bandit's Belt 8.25

Lower Legs: Leggings 1.27

Upper Legs: Slacks 1.14

Socks: Cloth 1.14

Feet: Cloth Boots 1.27

Face: 02

Eyebrows: 4.04

Lips: 2.06

Eyes: 26.19

Skin: 5.16

Underwear: Standard

Voice: Young Man 2