The King's Guard

Chapter 4

The queue to register for the Shadow Corps stretched farther than Kael had anticipated. When he’d first thought about coming here, he imagined a smaller crowd—maybe a few others from nearby villages, some drifters looking for work. But what he found was something different entirely. People had come from far and wide. He hadn’t expected the King's Academy to be this crowded.

He stood still for a while, watching the endless stream of applicants, feeling a little out of place in the middle of it all. The sun hung heavily above the courtyard, and the stone walls around him trapped the heat. The dull hum of voices blended into a background noise that barely changed.

“Well, good luck with this lad. I hope to see you around,” Sir Fred said, giving Kael a brief hug before climbing into the carriage and setting off without another word.

Now alone, Kael bent down and picked up his travel bag. The straps were worn, and the leather was starting to crack. Still, it held. He walked to the end of the line, settling behind a rather bulky man who seemed to enjoy the sound of his own voice. The man was speaking to a friend with a toothy grin and loud enthusiasm.

“They said the prince might show up after the tests,” the bulky man said, his voice carrying with ease over the soft hum of conversation around them. “Would be something to see, wouldn’t it? His Royal Highness gracing us with his presence.”

Kael listened but didn’t speak. His eyes were on the crowd, but his ears remained alert. He wasn’t sure if the man was just bluffing or if he genuinely believed what he was saying.

“The prince?” his friend replied, his voice nasal and doubtful. He scratched the back of his head as he spoke. “I wouldn’t count on it. The royal family barely leaves the palace. Why would they come here just to watch a bunch of recruits stumbling through drills?”

The bulky man let out a loud bark of laughter. “This is important, mate. We’re the next generation of defenders, aren’t we? Not like those glorified door-holders they’ve already got posted around the palace. The royal guard couldn’t spot a threat if it danced naked in front of them with a banner.”

A few people within earshot chuckled, some more out of politeness than agreement. The mood was light-hearted, almost too casual, Kael thought. It was clear the man had no shortage of confidence or arrogance.

“That’s a bit much,” Kael said, stepping forward slightly. His voice wasn’t raised, but it cut through the noise like a blade. “The royal guards still do their part. They stop problems before they grow. It’s not right to mock them.”

The atmosphere shifted. The laughter dried up. A few heads turned. The sound of nearby conversation dipped for a moment. The bulky man slowly turned his head, the humour in his expression fading into something less amused, more calculating.

“You say something?” he asked, his tone low and disbelieving, like someone daring a child to repeat a mistake.

Kael didn’t flinch. “I did.”

“You got a problem with what I said?” the man asked again, his voice tighter now. The tension in his shoulders was growing by the second, veins subtly rising beneath the skin of his neck.

Kael looked him in the eye. “Just think it’s wrong to look down on people doing their jobs,” he said. “They’re protecting the same kingdom you claim to care about. You may not see what they do, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t matter.”

A few murmurs followed, some hushed. The man’s fists curled tightly by his sides, his knuckles whitening. His grin had vanished. Kael could feel the tension ripple down the line. One or two people behind him shuffled slightly, giving space as though a storm was about to break.

“You trying to act smart or something?” the man snapped, his eyes narrowing. He leaned forward just a little, as if trying to dwarf Kael in the shadow of his bulk.

Kael shook his head, calm but firm. “No. I’m saying if you start something here, you’ll lose your spot. The guards are watching. You won't get a second chance.”

The man’s friend looked around nervously. The guards weren’t being subtle anymore. One of them had a hand resting on the hilt of his spear. Another, just a few feet away, had stopped pacing and stood still, observing closely.

“Maybe they need help deciding who stays and who goes,” the bulky man growled, his voice lower now, almost guttural. His muscles tensed beneath his shirt, the outline of a bicep twitching.

Kael kept calm, still breathing evenly. “Then prove you belong during the test. Starting a fight here only proves you can’t control yourself.”

There was silence. The man stared at Kael, but something flickered in his eyes…hesitation, maybe even a sliver of doubt.

The man’s friend, a narrow-faced, crooked-toothed fellow reached out, placing a tentative hand on his companion’s arm. “Let it go, Gale. This is not worth it.”

Gale didn’t move. Not at first. His eyes were still locked on Kael like a predator unsure if it should strike. But then another voice sliced through the silence.

“He’s right, you know.”

The words came from behind them. Everyone turned to look.

A girl stood several paces away. She had striking white hair with faint blue streaks running through. Her arms were folded loosely across her chest, and her stance was relaxed, almost bored but her eyes were sharp.

She stepped forward with unhurried steps, her gaze flicking briefly to the guards nearby before resting squarely on Gale.

“They’ve already got eyes on you,” she said, voice smooth but clear. “Try anything, and they’ll deal with you before you finish your first punch.”

Gale looked at the guards. Their postures hadn’t changed much, but the tension in their bodies was unmistakable now. One had already taken a slight step forward. Another had gripped the base of his weapon tighter, their jaw locked.

It didn’t take a genius to see what would happen if Gale made the wrong move.

Gale scowled, though not at any one person in particular. His eyes were roaming—guards, Kael, his friend, the girl. His jaw worked slightly as he ground his teeth.

“Fine,” he muttered.

He turned back around, his broad shoulders tense, jaw still tight with the weight of his unsaid frustration. “But this isn’t the end of it,” he muttered under his breath.

The girl approached Kael, though not too close. “That was decent enough,” she said. “You kept your head. Some people wouldn’t.”

Kael didn’t know what to say at first. “I just didn’t want trouble before we even started.”

“Smart. Let’s see if you stay that way,” she said, walking off again.

A few moments passed, then the sound of trumpets filled the space. It wasn’t overly grand, just loud enough to get attention. The front gates opened slowly.

People moved forward, row by row. The tension faded a little, replaced by quiet nerves. Kael kept walking, trying not to think about Gale, but he still glanced at him briefly. The man hadn’t forgotten.

Eventually, Kael reached the gates. Beyond them was a larger open space, separated into sections. There were tents, all arranged in rows. People were being directed to different areas.

Kael was pointed toward one of the tents. He didn’t argue. He stepped inside and paused for a second to take in the sight.

There was a registration table. A woman sat behind it, writing on a notepad. She wasn’t looking up, her attention fully on the task in front of her.

“Name?” she asked without looking.

“Kael. Kael Draven.”

“Age?”

“Eighteen.”

“You working?”

“No, ma’am.”

There was a pause. Her eyebrow twitched. She kept writing.

“Any family in the military or Corps?”

“No, ma—no.”

She stopped writing. Her voice was quiet but sharp. “Call me ma’am again and I’ll take your head off.”

Kael blinked. He wasn’t sure if she meant it or not.

“Any abilities?”

“Yes m—” He caught himself. Her eyes finally lifted from the paper. She stared at him for a long second before smirking slightly and returning to her notes.

“You were saying?”

“I—I said yes.”

“What abilities do you have?” she asked, barely looking at him now.

“Well…”