The hall falls silent, the formerly loud voices of bickering fading to quiet, barely audible murmurs. Many faces turn towards the door, their eyes staring at Ipela and her two bewildered companions.

“Let’s go and sit down, shall we?” Calmly, she descends the stairs slowly and makes her way to the central round table, taking its only vacant seat and promptly sitting down on the comfortable chair. She turns to Avalel and Kavlina. “I hope you two don’t mind standing for a while,” she apologizes, “Unfortunately, this hall doesn’t have many seats.”

“We don’t mind,” Avalel replies. However, as many pairs of eyes continue to stare at him, particularly at his sword, he cannot help but feel uneasy, his eyes gazing at the floor in nervousness. Meanwhile, standing next to him, Kavlina, also unused to such a crowd and overcome with nervousness, stares at the round table in front of her, attempting to avert the eyes from the crowd.

“Alright,” a voice, coming from a rather short man, booms across the hall, silencing any sounds that remain, “Shall we begin?”

“Our first order of business today was to discuss the strength of our standing military, possibly along with implementing our first steps toward the surface,” the man’s eyes turn to Ipela, “But, Ms. Ipela, I see you have brought two companions with you today. It’s quite rare for you to appear with other people, never mind attending this meeting at night. I assume you have something to say about them, considering you decided to bring them to the Grand Hall itself?”

Ipela stands up. “Yes, I do have something to say about these two individuals, President.” Despite still wearing the clothing of a street sweeper, Ipela seems to be possessing the aura of a dignified noblewoman. She turns to the crowd, “Respected individuals of the Assembly, here are two children that stumbled upon our surface town earlier while I was supposed to be at 'work'. Individuals that, I believe, are qualified to fight for our military.”

The crowd cries in vehement opposition and surprise. “What?” “Are we using child soldiers now?” “Strangers fighting for us?” “This is outrageous!” Deafening voices shout from all directions and echoes rebound off the walls of the hall in the great ruckus. However, the President simply stands up, and the whole crowd, understanding the gesture, is silent again, the only sounds left being the shuffling of seats.

“Please do not interrupt Ms. Ipela, everyone,” he calmly orders.

“Thank you, President,” Ipela gratefully continues, “I understand that many here have their concerns regarding our standing army having children in their ranks, which is obviously contrary to one of our laws. However, as you all know, although our army is strong and disciplined, we are lacking in manpower to fight against the opposing factions. These two, although children, are already of the suitable height and build for the military. Furthermore, I believe they have the capability to fight, not just as any soldier, but as a part of our elite forces. For two children, forcefully displaced by the war, the military is the best place for them to show their value to the world and avenge their fallen family and friends.”

A young woman suddenly stands up. “Ms. Ipela, have you received their consent? We cannot force people to be soldiers, especially when your suggestion is already bending the law itself.”

“Well, Rhiyai, why not ask them now?”

The woman known as Rhiyai turns her gaze to Avalel and Kavlina. “What are your names, children?”

“I'm Avalel.” “Kavlina.” There is a hint of nervousness, hidden in the apparent coldness, of their answers.

“Surely you don't mean that Avalel…”

“We can investigate that matter later, Ms. Rhiyai,” Ipela interrupts.

Rhiyai, although mildly annoyed by the interruption, continues. “Are you sure you want to join our military, Avalel and Kavlina? It is not a game, and you will likely see many deaths, if not face death yourself, in this commitment.”

“Yes. I want to repay a favor to Ms. Ipela who has shown us both great hospitality in such a short amount of time,” Avalel replies nervously.

Well said, young one. It would be a waste for you to not make great use of me, the Anapadeia comments.

“I don't care, but as long as that's what Lel wants, I shall go with it,” Kavlina answers.

Surprised, Rhiyai pauses for a moment as Ipela smiles in approval. “Well, Ms. Ipela, I have another question: What do you mean when you said you believe they can fight? Do you have any evidence in the time you were acquainted with them?”

“I'm sure you have noticed the Anapadeia the boy is currently carrying, and we all know the status of the Anapadeia. Is that not enough evidence?”

Rhiyai is again taken aback as the crowd begins murmuring amongst themselves again. “Impossible…” “How could he possibly have the Anapadeia?” “Surely the boy realizes the crime of being in possession of the sword when discovered by other factions…”

“That is, in fact, not enough evidence,” Rhiyai argues, “Just because the boy is in possession of the Anapadeia does not mean he is capable of fighting. Even if the boy does know how to fight, that does not mean the girl can fight too. Even in our society, female soldiers are far more rare than male soldiers, and judging from that frail body, I do not think she is even capable of handling a pistol.”

Suddenly, Kavlina, with one smooth motion, throws her knife towards Rhiyai. Although Rhiyai's seat is among the furthest from the center, in a moment, the knife has already lodged itself in the wall behind her, barely missing her cheek. A shallow cut appears on her cheek, and as Rhiyai shivers in shock, a drop of blood slowly trickles down to her chin. The stunned guards could only raise their guns, aiming directly at Kavlina's head.

“How inconvenient,” Kavlina mutters quietly, “I lost my only knife.”

“Is that enough evidence for you, Rhiyai?” Ipela asks.

Rhiyai sighs in defeat. “Alright, that is convincing enough.”

“I shall register them to join a current batch of cadets then.” With that, Ipela sits down once again on her seat. Motioning with only the raise of a hand, a guard quickly comes to her side. “Are there any rooms available near the cadet training grounds?” she asks.

“Yes, Ms. Ipela, but as you know, this year we have quite the large batch of cadets, so there is only one small dorm remaining,” the guard answers.

Ipela turns to Avalel and Kavlina. “Are you two satisfied with sharing a room?”

“I personally don't mind,” Avalel answers.

“If that's the most convenient way, I don't mind as well,” Kavlina adds.

“Alright, then. Please follow me,” the guard beckons as he begins walking toward the exit. Soon they are at the door again, and turning his head back for a moment, Avalel glances at the majestic hall for a final time before he continues and follows the guard to a hallway.

“Now that the matter for these two individuals is settled,” the President says as the door closes behind Avalel and Kavlina, “Let's get on with our business, shall we?”

Nasition stares blankly at the sky from his personal escort. Although just a modified infantry transport with thickened armor on the exterior, the interior is grand and finely decorated, fitting for a king or queen. Two attendants stand nearby, ready to answer his orders or to protect him, if necessary, at any given moment.

Finally, the transport reaches an energy barrier, inside of which seems to be an empty expanse of flat land. However, this seemingly barren landscape is precisely the most valuable location for the Grand Confederation of Parvilien. As the headquarters of the famous Battalion Elethien, this piece of land is precious not only to its inhabitants, but to the overseeing government.

Although he is the official head of Battalion Elethien, known as the “elite of the elites” to the military, in practice, Nasition has almost no control over their internal affairs, and often the battalion would choose their own unofficial leader. This will be quite rough indeed.

“Identify yourself,” a voice orders through the communication system of the transport.

“The Common Leader would like to enter the facility,” one of the attendants replies.

There is a pause. “Nasition, what do you want?”

“Just let me enter, Tevlaia,” Nasition sighs in exasperation.

Silence, and a short while later, a hole opens in the barrier, allowing the transport to enter. Inside the barrier is an entirely different landscape. In front of the transport is a great wall and gate towering above them, and as the gate slowly opens, the many buildings and training grounds come into view. Although all grey and therefore entirely aesthetically unappealing, the buildings all seem to emit a sort of majestic aura, one that resembles an impregnable fortress. No, one that resembles multiple fortresses.

Soon the transport reaches the main building and Nasition exits the transport. Walking up the steep and narrow staircase, he finally stands silently in front of the narrow door. A while later, the door opens, and a gust of wind blows into his face, blinding him for a moment. Unfazed, he walks in, and the door slams shut as soon as the last strand of his hair enters the building.

Inside is a simple ring, surrounded by an energy barrier, which is then surrounded by an empty space, with only a few steel chairs as the closest form of comfort. Inside the ring, two Battalion soldiers are duelling, yet from Nasition's perspective, he could barely even see the silhouettes of the two, hearing only the clang of blades and the thud from the floor when they land for a moment.

Suddenly, a dagger flies toward him from the side. Nasition skillfully dodges, clasping the dagger with only two fingers, stopping it in its tracks.

“Not bad for our Common Leader,” Tevlaia compliments as she approaches Nasition. Wearing a grey cloak, she seems to melt into the background, almost completely hidden until she takes a step.

Nasition flicks the dagger onto the ground, revealing two trails of blood flowing down from his fingers. “What if I hadn't been able to dodge?”

“Well, then you wouldn't be a suitable leader for our battalion, wouldn't it?”

“As if I actually lead the battalion…”

“Anyway,” Tevlaia asks, “What brings you here today? Surely you didn't come all this way from the capital to see two soldiers fighting each other.”

Nasition raises his palm, and a large screen appears. “Just watch this, and you'll understand.” Scenes of soldiers' deaths, replayed through the screen, reaches Tevlaia's eyes. Whether they are gored, beheaded, sliced, bashed, it all is inflicted by one person. Finally, as the scenes reach an end, the screen disappears, and Nasition lowers his hand, watching any reaction that may come from Tevlaia.

She laughs. “You want us to hunt down this boy?”

“Yes. What's laughable about this? He has the Anapadeia, and using it, he effortlessly cut down near one hundred of our soldiers!”

“Now, now, Nasition,” she pats his shoulder in reassurance, “He may be a skilled killer of soldiers, but when you look closely, you'll see much wasted movement, particularly in his swings. As he kills each soldier, his pace slightly slows and he is more exhausted.”

“Do you mean he is not a threat to you at all?”

“Think of the legend of the Anapadeia that you tried so hard to erase. The archives mentioned the 'possession' of its wielder, didn't it? According to the descriptions, I see no difference between this boy and all those who fell to the influence of the sword. Therefore, I think that without the control from the sword, he is no better than a peasant.”

“What if he is controlled by the sword?”

“Any soldier of our battalion fighting him alone may be difficult, but if two of them are together, it is no problem at all.”

“Then send five.” Nasition's tone suddenly changes.

“What?”

“I don't want a repeat of the massacres last time,” Nasition explains, “We thought two hundred was too many for a single target, but we had in fact underestimated our enemy.”

“But…”

“Send five,” Nasition sternly commands, “I do not want my best soldiers to die because of our incompetence and inability to assess our enemy's strength even after all this data.”

“If you insist, Nasition,” Tevlaia relents, “But I will still tell you this: the boy's not worth the time and effort.”

“You have no idea how much of a threat he may be if left alive and roaming,” Nasition warns.

Tevlaia lets out another laugh. “We shall see what becomes of him then.” She turns to the ring, where the two soldiers are still duelling. “Alright, people! That's enough for now!” she shouts, and as the energy barrier slowly descends, the two figures softly land on the ground, panting, their sweat soaking their clothing and dripping onto the ground.

“How did it go, Teri? Keri?” she cries toward the two.

“It's... Teritav,” the figure on the left, clothed in the standard black, tight-fitting combat suit replies in annoyance, still catching his breath. Nasition could see that although his sweating is rapid, his dark blue, curly hair seems to be still dry and unaffected by his perspiration.

“Teritav has certainly improved,” the other figure, also clothed in the combat suit, replies. Unlike Teritav, his breathing has already steadied and is already walking towards Tevlaia. “And please call me Kerohar, 'Tevi',” he laughs. Annoyed, Tevlaia playfully throws another knife, which Kerohar easily catches.

“What's Nasi doing here” Kerohar asks, noticing the long shadow of Nasition reaching him.

“Tevlaia will explain. Also, don't call me 'Nasi'. You should know my reaction to this particular nickname,” Nasition replies.

“Alright, alright. I'll stop, Nasition,” Kerohar chuckles and turns to Tevlaia. “So what is Nasition doing here, Tevlaia?”

“He wants five of us to hunt down a certain target.”

“Five? That target must be quite strong, then.”

“Well, I personally don't think so.”

“Why?”

“I'll explain later. Anyway, would you and Teritav be willing to be part of the team of five?”

“I don't know anything about this target you're talking about, but I can join if the team includes you and Nasi... gack!” He staggers back several steps, reeling from the punch Nasition had just dealt to his chest.

“Don't call me by that name, Kerohar,” Nasition scolds.

“Sorry about that,” Kerohar apologizes, although still chuckling.

“I personally would like to see the true skill of our target,” Tevlaia interrupts, “To clash blades with the Anapadeia…”

“The Anapadeia?” Teritav pipes up excitedly, “This target may be very interesting, after all!”

“Yes, it may,” Kerohar agrees, “So I take it that you're in, Tevlaia?”

“Yes,” Tevlaia replies.

“Alright, I'll join in then as well!”

“What about you, Nasition?” Tevlaia asks, “I'm sure you have many administration-related tasks to do, but you can always delegate those to your numerous secretaries.”

“Well, I'm the one who wanted this in the first place, so it's only natural that I'll be a part of the team,” Nasition smiles.

“Who should our last member be, then?” Teritav asks.

“How about we leave it at four?” Kerohar suggests, “I don't think we need to spend more time searching for a fifth member than searching for the target immediately.”

“I agree,” Tevlaia adds, “I don't think we should have more valuable soldiers involved and invested in this target.”

Nasition sighs, “I guess that could be a compromise.”

“Alright, let's find that Anapadeia-wielder!” Kerohar cheers excitedly.