"Hold still."
The boy flinched as I dabbed the antiseptic on his arm, his face twisted in a mix of discomfort and quiet pride. Fresh cadets always tried to act tough. A deep gash ran across his forearm—a careless mistake during combat training. I had seen worse, much worse.
"It doesn't hurt," he muttered, avoiding my gaze.
I let out a soft chuckle. "Of course it doesn't."
He stayed silent as I wrapped the bandage around his arm with practiced ease. Around us, the infirmary hummed with low murmurs—whispers of exhausted cadets waiting for treatment, the occasional laugh of a trainer teasing a stubborn trainee. It was a rhythm I had grown used to. One of pain, but never despair. One of struggle, but never surrender.
As the boy hopped off the cot, I patted his shoulder. "Go. And this time, try not to charge headfirst into a blade, hmm?"
A sheepish grin flashed across his face before he hurried out, disappearing into the corridors that pulsed with life.
Silence returned, and with it, a familiar pull.
I turned to my desk, the old wooden surface scattered with notes and half-written pages. The ink had long dried on my earlier thoughts, but I knew there was still more to be told. With a sigh, I picked up my pen, and the words flowed once again.Cadets arrive at this academy with different pasts, different reasons for being here. Some carry burdens too heavy for their young shoulders. Others arrive with fire in their eyes, ready to carve their own paths. They are trained to fight, to endure, to survive. But more than anything, they learn to live. Despite the drills, the discipline, the grueling tests—they remain children in ways no training can erase. They tease, they play, they sneak midnight snacks like they aren't warriors-in-the-making. There are competitions, rivalries, and challenges that push them beyond their limits. But none of it—none of it—can overtake the friendships that bind them together.
Secrets exist among them, unspoken pasts and hidden wounds, but even in their silence, they are never truly alone. Because here, in this academy that the world does not know of, there is an unbreakable bond—one that ties cadets to cadets, and trainers to the very students they shape. It is not a bond of hierarchy. It is a bond of trust. Of loyalty. Of something deeper than duty.
And yet, as I sat there, pen pressed to paper, I knew that it had not always been this way.
With slow steps, I rose from my chair, the faint creak of wood filling the quiet space. My gaze drifted to the far side of the room, where the Achievement Wall stood tall, adorned with photographs, medals, and faded memories of those who had walked these halls before. Names carved in silver, faces frozen in time.The academy was strong now—built on friendships, hope, and resilience.
But things weren't always like this.
No, before them, before what they did… it was different.
And they changed it.
My eyes lingered on one portrait in particular. A familiar face, frozen in time. My fingers hovered over it, but I didn't touch it. I didn't need to.
Because I remembered.I closed my eyes, and the past unfolded before me—not as distant memories, but as if I were standing there once again. The sounds, the voices, the very air of those days still lived within me.
And so, it begins…