Kieran stood perfectly still beside the sizzling carcass of the Razorback. He wiped his bloody hands on his torn tunic and focused on his breathing. The pungent stench of the alchemical tonics burned his nostrils. He needed to look like a desperate boy who had just barely survived a nightmare.Heavy boots pounded against the dirt trail. Branches snapped violently as a large group invaded the clearing.Alaric burst through the treeline. The young noble looked frantic, his pristine leather hunting clothes wrinkled and stained with mud from his panicked sprint. He pointed a trembling finger directly at Kieran."There he is!" Alaric screamed at the top of his lungs. "Seize him! The demon is standing right there!"A dozen heavily armored guards flooded into the woods. They drew their broadswords in unison. The steel blades gleamed in the twilight. They fanned out rapidly, forming a tight ring of steel around Kieran and the dead boar.Lord Aris stepped through the crushed bushes a moment la

The brass horn echoed through the damp morning air. It signaled the end of the first trial.The sun breached the horizon, casting long shadows across the frost covered grass. The surviving applicants staggered out of the treeline and walked toward the armory pavilion. The massive canvas tent stood in the center of the training grounds. A long oak table sat beneath the open flap.Commander Thorunn stood behind the table. The scarred warrior crossed his thick arms over his iron plate. He watched the returning recruits with a hard, judging stare.The difference between the two factions was obvious. The highborn recruits walked in tight groups. Their enchanted armor shone under the morning light. They joked with each other and carried small leather pouches tied to their belts.The commoners looked like walking corpses. They limped out of the woods covered in mud, scratches, and dried blood. Several of them carried makeshift crutches crafted from broken branches. Many did not return at all

The gates of the Citadel inner sanctum groaned as they swung open. The ten surviving recruits marched into the permanent barracks. The transition felt jarring. They left the damp mud of the training grounds and stepped onto polished cobblestone. High stone walls blocked the freezing wind. Torches burned in brass brackets along the corridors.A scarred knight walked at the front of the group. He held a ring of iron keys. He did not speak. He simply led them deep into the military complex.Kieran walked near the back. He kept his right hand inside his torn coat pocket. His fingers rested against the cold iron of the commanding token Commander Thorunn had given him. The metal felt heavy. It represented authority on the training field. Inside these stone walls, it felt like a target.The eight noble recruits walked ahead of him. They clumped together in a tight pack. They whispered among themselves and cast dirty looks over their shoulders.They reached the mess hall first. The room smell

Dawn breached the high stone walls of the Citadel. The morning light crept through the cracked window of the quarters.Kieran sat up on his feather mattress. He felt entirely rested. The fire in the hearth had died hours ago, leaving the large room freezing cold."Get up," Kieran said. His voice echoed off the stone walls. "Form a line by the door."Groans erupted from the drafty corner of the room. The seven nobles huddled together on the bare wooden cots. They shivered violently in the freezing morning air. Cassian rubbed his bloodshot eyes and glared at the hearth."It is barely sunrise," Cassian complained. "The servants have not even brought the warm water for our basins yet.""You do not have servants here," Kieran replied. He stood up and fastened his torn coat. "You have five minutes to put your boots on before we march to the courtyard."Graham Taylor let out a loud sob from the floor. He cradled his swollen, purple wrist against his chest. "I cannot tie my boots. My wrist is

The chanting of the veteran soldiers echoed across the muddy courtyard. They stomped their iron boots against the cobblestones and demanded blood.Alaric turned his back on Kieran. The young noble refused to accept the trap. He refused to let a slum orphan dictate his fate.He spotted Commander Thorunn standing near the weapon racks. The scarred veteran was inspecting a row of sharpened broadswords.Alaric pushed his way through the circle of jeering infantrymen. He marched toward the Commander. His "Commander Thorunn," Alaric shouted to get the man's attention.Thorunn did not look up from the steel blade in his hands. "You broke formation, recruit. You received your daily assignment from your squad leader. You should be walking to the stables right now.""My squad leader lost his mind," Alaric argued. He stopped beside the weapon rack, his chest heaving with panic and anger. "He ordered me to muck out the horse stalls and scrub the infantry latrines. He is using the Token to execut