Academy

"I hope I don't encounter him today."

After praying, he exits the house and walks to his school.

Zalglen Academy—

Alf is sitting on a semi-circular table with various other kids around his age, but they are distributed in different groups, while Alf is alone in his seat.

The classroom is a sharp contrast to the sunny outside. It is constructed from wood and has a stable-like structure, similar to the buildings used to house cows or horses. The fragrance of rodents and old wood lingers in the air, and children's voices can be heard.

Children with shabby clothes sit in the seats, staring at the front of the room.

A simply clothed woman stands in front of a board, her eyes pleasantly looking at the students as she explains to them—the wonders of Ether.

"Do you kids know anything about Ether?"

She asks, with a hint of excitement in her voice.

An enthusiastic student raises his hand.

"Yes teacher! I know!" The child declares, his expression displaying his excitement to respond.

"Excellent! Sam, can you explain it to the class?" She asks, her interest piqued.

He gets up from his seat, with his head up in anticipation of a flurry of applause and cries, the child proclaims.

"Ether is what knights and magicians use to get powerful!"

The woman gives a clap of approval.

"Correct! Thank you for telling us! You can take your seat."

The boy happily sits in his seat, feeling proud of himself for giving the correct answer.

Witnessing all of this, a chubby kid scoffs. "He is feeling proud over this? What an idiot."

As the lectures proceed, Alf remains silent the entire time, focusing on the lesson and taking notes on all the important details.

The teacher then approaches the board and starts scribbling, writing different definitions and interpretations of Ether.

"Ether has the ability to borrow the properties of different elements—water, fire, metal, and lightning... It can also make things stronger. Although these are the only ways Ether is mainly used, its different applications are being discovered every day."

The teacher then starts demonstrating—her palm emits a blue, glowing thred that begins to glow bright yellow and transforms into a tiny ball of fire. But the lecture is interrupted when a hand is raised.

"Miss! I have a question."

Hearing this voice, she swings her head back to the black-haired lad.

"Yes! Do you have any doubts, Alf?"

He gets to his feet and looks at the material on the board.

"I want to know about the origin of Ether! Where does it come from?" Alf asks with sparkling eyes of curiosity.

A smile appears on her face.

"I didn't know this child was so curious. I have not seen him speak very often." She thinks to herself, with a slight smile tucked at her lips.

"Our ancestors discovered Ether more than a thousand years ago."

She responds confidently, glancing at him with lifted brows.

"But teacher, how did Ether form?"

She lets out a sigh, and a soft smile crosses her face.

"Everyone is born with Ether; it's a part of nature. It is just like air and water because it just exists naturally."

Alf looks up at her, not convinced by her words. He furrows his brows in deep thought.

"Let us carry on with the lesson! Alf, please take your seat."

Alf obediently sits down and looks at the board. Despite his desire to ask numerous questions, he tries to restrain his curiosity in order to focus on the lecture, "If everyone is born with Ether, why is it that some can't use it?" He whispers faintly.

A young voice rises to speak.

"You cannot even use Ether; why bother with the lesson? It's useless for you anyway." A blonde boy asks with a mocking grin.

Hearing this, Alf clenches his fists and grits his teeth. He glares at him. "It is none of your business! Clay!"

"When a cripple like you tries to disturb the class, why should I not speak up?" The boy responds condescendingly and sneers.

"Boys, don't disturb the lesson!"

A voice thunders across the classroom.

"Teacher! He is the one who started it! Just because he can use Ether, he thinks he is better than everyone."

Alf stands up, seeking to emphasize his point.

Clay scoffs. "Of course! Isn't it obvious that I am better than everyone in this class? All the students here are weak!

You can't even use Ether. You failed to weave a single thread, and you expect me to respect you?" He starts jeering, while holding his stomach. "How pathetic!"

Alf's face twists into a snarl, barely holding back his outrage.

The teacher's angry voice interrupts their conversation.

"Enough, the both of you! I will not allow any more disruption in my classroom. If you don't quite down, I will have to take you to the headmasters office!"

"I will stop speaking when this ape shuts his mouth!" Alf states while pointing his finger towards Clay.

Clay stands up, his face twisted with rage, slamming his fist down on the bench with a loud thud and shouting.

"What did you call me?" You Fatherless..."

The teacher looks at Clay with cold eyes, her fury radiating from them.

Clay backs away as he senses her rage; not wanting to aggravate her anger, he sits in his seat.

He glares at Alf, and whispers. "Meet me after class. I am going to kill you!"

Alf frowns and let's out a tired sigh.

"I hate dealing with people like him!"

He thinks to himself.

~

The lectures continue. Alf goes over each subject one by one, starting with magic, then literature, and then arithmetic.

After a boring day of studying, it is time for the final lecture of the day: physical education, taught by my instructor Griffith.

~

In the training grounds—

"Children! Today, we will learn the basics of the sword. Each of you should pick a wooden sword from that shack."

A large man with a moustache and gray hair points towards a wooden shack.

The students hurry excitedly. They all choose a wooden sword with chatter and joyful squeals, and run back towards instructor Griffith.

Once all the students are gathered, he glances around at them, making sure that everyone got a sword.

"Is it too heavy for you kids?" He questions the group, with raised eyebrows as he sees them barely holding onto it with two hands.

"No teacher." The students reply simultaneously, even though their expressions convey their fatigue; just holding the sword was proving difficult.

Griffith nods in agreement. "If you kids say so, but don't regret it later."

"They can't even hold onto the sword; why would they not tell him?" Alf thinks to himself, staring at the kids puzzled.

While a lot of children were struggling to hold onto their wooden swords, several of the boys were already practicing with them, swinging them around like nothing. One of such boys was Clay, who was swinging around the sword by strengthening his body with Ether.

Alf also held onto his sword with just one hand.

"Even though it's not that heavy, the weight is uneven. I won't be able to swing it around with one hand like them."

Alf grabs the hilt with both hands and slashes down, but he loses his equilibrium and falls face first into the ground mud.

"I did not even have to make you; you are eating dirt already."

Clay sneers as he looks down at Alf, his face smudged with mud.

Alf glares at him, his face twisting with rage.

Just as he is ready to leap at Clay, a commanding voice stops him.

"You two, don't cause a ruckus!" Griffith glares at them.

"I want to hit Clay so bad! But if I do that, he will kill me." Alf mutters under his breath with clenched fists.

"Listen here! Now that you all have a sword, run ten laps around the training ground while holding it at the hilt. Only those who complete this task will receive my sword training."

The children stare at the instructor in a daze.

"No, we can't! How will we run with the swords when we can barely hold onto them?"

One of the boys shouts at the instructor in disbelief.

"We came here to learn swordsmanship; we did not come here to become runners."

Another kid states with arms crossed, seeming proud of himself for speaking up.

All the children nod in agreement and start chattering. Reasoning why they should not run around the training ground.

"Silence!" The instructor's voice echoes throughout the training area.

The children glance up at him, having stopped their aimless talk. They groan collectively, but Griffith's glare silences them.

"This is for your benefit! How will you kids learn to wield a sword if you can not even do such a simple task?"

He shouts in a frustrated tone.

"Now don't just stand there; start running!"

Despite their grumbling, the children give up resistance and begin running slowly, their expressions uncomfortable.

"I just ran while training with Uncle Daniel today; now I have to run again, and while holding this heavy wooden sword?" Alf grumbles with a painful expression.

He takes a deep breath, grabs the sword with both hands, and begins running.

After a minute, most of the kids collapse, exhausted and gasping for air.

As the kids crumble one by one, Alf keeps on running, with the wooden sword gripped in his hands.

After five laps around the training ground, most of the kids have collapsed, but a handful keep at it—Alf and Clay among them.

The instructor observes the remaining boys with narrowed eyes. Looking at them with interest.

"These kids have potential," he mutters, "especially that boy. He has been running around without using any Ether, despite his weak physique."

He gazes at the panting Alf with a broad smile, his clothes and hair drenched in sweat.

"He has got heart, I will give him that."

After running eight laps around the training grounds, the boys struggle to continue running. They run, their expressions terrible, their grasp on the swords weakening.

At this point, Alf was struggling to keep up with the others, slumping his feet and clutching the hefty log instructor Griffith referred to as a sword.

"Look at you! Need a hand weakling?" Clay asks, while he looks at him with a sly smile. He does not appear to be out of breath, and his face is free of sweat, even though it was the eighth lap.

"Hey you, get away! Clay! I don't need help!"

Alf retorts angrily, his hands shaking while gripping his sword.

"Why doesn't he just leave me alone?!" Alf grumbles weakly, attempting to maintain his composure.

"C'mon! Don't be like this. I am just trying to help a classmate." Clay replies sarcastically with a wide grin, as he runs alongside Alf, matching his pace.

"This guy! Why would he want to help me? Is he plotting something?"

Alf thinks to himself, looking suspiciously at Clay.

"How can you help me?"

"I am going to heal you using Ether!"

Clay responds plainly.

"Should I accept his help?" Alf considers, for a second, his mind distorted due to the accumulated fatigue.

He responds after a minute of thoughtful consideration.

"I don't trust you, leave me alone!"

He moves away from Clay and continues to run, nearing the end of the lap.

"Hey! Wait!" Clay calls out to him, but does not respond.

"So, this is how you want to do this."

A malicious expression appears on his face.

He comes up behind Alf, charges up a ball of Ether in his palm, and launches it towards his back.

"Take this, stupid!" His expression is that of a madman.

Alf, seemingly unaware, continues to jog, not noticing the looming threat behind him.

As the ball of Ether is ready to strike his back, it evaporates into thin air, and Alf does not even notice.

Upon witnessing this, a look of terror appears on Clay's chubby face.

"My spell disappeared before it even made contact?! That should have knocked him off his feet. Did the instructor notice the spell and cancel it?"

He glances at the instructor, but he is busy scolding the weaker students.

"No, he seems too distracted to notice such a weak spell."

Clay furrows his brows, racking his brains for an explanation.

"I guess my spell was weaker than expected? Hmph, who cares! I will put him in his place after the bell," he thinks with a malicious smirk.

Alf, who continued to sag throughout the final several laps, runs the final lap with tremendous effort, just barely holding onto the wooden sword. After finishing the final lap, he collapses on the ground, panting heavily.

"I did it! I can now become stronger!" He exclaims, and sighs with relief. "I can't move, it hurts," he mutters while resting on his stomach.

Overall, five kids pass the test, including Alf and Clay.

"Congratulations! All five of you have passed. From now on, you are my disciples." Griffith says to the boys with a genuine smile.

He bends forward and asks Alf, who is resting on the ground: "What is your name?"

Alf's body tenses as Griffith looks directly at him with his sharp gaze. He takes a nervous gulp and responds, "I am Alf, Sir."

Griffith nods his head.

"So, Alf, why did you not utilize Ether to aid yourself, like the others?"

Alf's eyes widen, and his expression shifts as he is once again reminded of his incapability. A frown appears on his face.

He looks down and responds, "Because I can't use Ether," his eyes gleaming with grief.

To be continued...