The yard was cold and empty when Sevet arrived.
Drev and Machen were already there, paired off near the weapon rack the sa as usual, their voices low between sets. She took her place at the the spot close by and began her warm up, and that was when she heard Drev mutter sothing to Machen in a casual tone.
"My father says the Grey Watch lost two n in Orm last month. They say the Grey Watch cos under the cover of darkness and strikes for the throat when least expecting!"
Machen took a drink from his water skin.
"Sure."
Drev clicked his tongue as a look of excitent appeared in his eyes,
"It really is interesting, isn’t it? How an order of nasty backstabbers and vermon can exist in a world driven by honor and the desire for glory..."
Machen shook his head,
"The currency of this world is death, not honor."
Drev’s face fell, "Whoa, that’s dark."
Machen said nothing to that. He rolled his shoulder and picked up his weapon again. Sevet kept moving as she listened to the conversation between the two.
She didn’t know exactly what the Grey Watch was. No one knew. But, she had heard stories as they were rather infamous.
According to legend, they were an order of demons that haunted the Templar Orders, picking off those that were a danger to the church and slitting their throats in the shadows. So stories said they were humans, although they worshiped a god within the Church’s pantheon much different from those that were well established within the faith.
She was a bit curious. But she knew the difference between rumors and truth.
The world ran on an economy of information. Knowledge was directly equivalent to social standing, strength, wealth, and even proximity to death and damnation. There was a direct correlation between these things although they were not always one-to-one...
Cael was across from them running forms against the practice dummy. He was another candidate from the House Rubarb, a minor noble house within the City. She wasn’t sure, but she knew the House had fallen on hard tis recently.
Well, the sa could be said for her and everyone else...
All of them were, the last hope of their families.
She was sure it was the sa all around the Empire. Noble families were expected to churn our their prodigies year after year after year to build up the imnse backbone of military strength that was the Templar’s Orders. Of those that did beco part of the fold, most of them died.
As such, the noble houses of the Thorne Empire were in a constant of volatility. On one hand, the Church provided structure and an avenue to keep the darkness and corruption from the lands. On the other hand, it constantly bled them dry of land, resources, and life.
A very strange relationship, she believed.
But her beliefs didn’t matter. After all, that was the system that had been in place since ti immorial. She was also certain there was more to the story than what she knew. She barely knew anything, after all.
At the present day, most noble families were giving off their young to join the Church’s Templars in hopes that they did survive to bring honor, glory and wealth to the family na so that they survived for just a bit longer. If they died, however, the noble House was destined to be buried under rubble.
Houses that had existed for thousands of years would be snuffed out and the only thing that would be left behind would be wooden placards and wilting mories.
She filed those thoughts away and reset her stance.
For now, all she could do was train as hard as possible and try to survive. Rumor was that this ti, there would also be a lot of comnts given the chance to join the Templars, although she didn’t know how much they would be.
She didn’t have much of an opinion of them, the Commoners. That was until recently when she hadn’t that boy, Nero...
Sevet huffed and threw a lightning fast punch out.
As a woman, her chances of getting into the Crimson Crucible was next to none, which was a good thing. Being away from the bowels of combat ant her chances of survival were rather high.
However, she wasn’t particularly smart or gifted in any other areas. This ant she could not join the Verdant Ash Sea Order, or the White Prophets, or even the Ironherd Order as an official mber.
Her only hope was to make it into the combat division of the non-combatant orders. That ant she couldn’t slack off for even a mont. Because she was a woman, the odds were already not in her favor.
The sa was true for every other female candidate...
Petra leaned against the far wall, rolling her wrist slowly, her eyes on nothing in particular. She had arrived three days after everyone else and had said almost nothing since, which Sevet had initially read as reserve. She was just like her, in a sense. There were a lot of girls just like her, forced to bear the responsibilities of a dying noble house. She had no idea what ambitions the other girl had, but perhaps they were similar to hers?
She couldn’t tell. Her eyes were jet black and her hair was a fiery color, characteristic of those that ca from the Lambien House. She also had a certain air to her. Like a dancing fla swelling in the wind, giving off plus of smoke and delirious heat.
The morning bell rang.
Everyone moved, and the yard reorganized itself as the Templars all coldly began heading back into the main building from the yard in a solemn fashion.
Training was over.
Sevet wiped the sweat off her brows. She stood for a mont, glancing down at her callused hands. Se was only 19, and yet it felt like she was much older. Unlike what most thought, the life of a noble was not all bright and good.
So saw it as a privilege, but all she felt was an imasurable burden on her neck.
One that she could not take off, tightening around her neck and suffocating her to death.
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