"I think she likes you."

Nagan rolled his eyes with an exasperated sigh. "Not every girl in this school can like me, Az."

"You're right, but do you know how many times I've heard this conversation?" Az cleared his throat before pitching his voice high, a wide grin donning his face. "Oh, Lucielle, have you seen Nagan lately? If only he wasn't so unapproachable and mysterious! He's just so handsome and smart and strong and his accent is so--"

It didn't take long for Nagan to slap his hand over his friend's mouth, his face progressively turning redder. "Stop that. You're an embarrassment to society."

"An embarrassment to you, you mean," Az said cheekily, a smug smile still present.

"I will pulverize your teeth if you don't shut up."

"Your unsettling threats never cease to amaze me."

Nagan was in the middle of his retort when he stopped short, looking absolutely baffled at the sight just down the hall. "What's going on over there?"

Their entire history class huddled around the entrance to the classroom, all whispering to themselves with a mix of confusion and annoyance. As the pair got closer, they could see the edges of a paper notice posted on the door. The crowd was too thick for them to get close enough to see it, so instead they asked the outer edges of the group what was going on?

"They cancelled history."

"Is this why I didn't see Professor Babora today?"

"Ugh, and we were just getting into the Mage War of the Millennium! I was looking forward to that."

"Of course you were, you fanatic."

The previous speaker blew a raspberry at the other.

"Anyway, not only was history cancelled, but apparently they also cancelled ethics & law and most soothsaying and potion classes. Combat is a requirement."

Nagan frowned. "I suppose adding combat makes sense considering the dragon attack, but why cancel all of our other classes? We're still in school and have certain requirements to complete."

"Who is 'they' anyway?" Az asked.

"Oh, you didn't see them? The Council of Thirds sent generals over to oversee our progress."

"Professor Fai is still in charge, but now they have the last say in what we do here."

So that's why I didn't see Professor Fai this morning, Nagan thought.

A third person popped in. "But I also heard the front lines are starting to thin, so maybe they'll need us out fighting sooner."

"What does that have to do with anything though?" Nagan knitted his brows together. "Unless they're expecting us to complete three combat classes a day -- which is unreasonable -- they shouldn't need to cancel other classes at all."

A small murmur of agreement floated through the crowd.

Az, "So...what are we supposed to do now? Is anything being put in this time slot?"

"I don't think so. There's supposed to be a school-wide assembly after dinner."

"Then why don't we go into the library and look over the history chapter?" Az suggested. "Just because the actual class is cancelled, doesn't mean we can't teach ourselves. In fact..."

Nagan caught the glint in Az's eye and immediately thought, oh no.

"Nagan has experience with this sort of thing. He tutors in the morning anyway."

"It's not tutoring, it's just a simple study session," Nagan reasoned.

"If Nagan's teaching it, I'll definitely show up!" one of the girls said.

"Wait a second--"

"Me too! My grades have been getting better since going to the library in the morning."

More and more agreed, thinking it was a wonderful idea. All Nagan could do was glare at Az for volunteering him for this.

Az had the audacity to innocently blink back at him.

"Alright, everybody in!"

This was the last thing Nagan expected after a filling dinner. To be herded into The Great Hall by a handful of men and women in official Dragonmage robes, all with their own regalia pinned to their uniform. So this is what our soldiers look like?

"Everyone in, I say!" the most decorated one barked again. He stood tall and broad, his presence commanding obedience, alongside the remaining teachers on the usual platform. Two others stood just below; a stoic man and a woman with a cheshire grin.

The domineering man sneered down at the hesitant students as they bunched near the door. "None of you know how to form proper lines? Why do you stand near the door like cowards?"

"That isn't something we practice here, General Byteron," Professor Fai cut in, stepping forward tensely, though it was out of annoyance rather than fear. "We were unaware that your arrival would be so soon."

"Then you are much more incompetent than the Council thought," the general spat. "We brought students back to Carvolier to train, yet when we arrived it's discovered you still hold unnecessary classes such as history and potions unrelated to medical pursuits."

"Well, Carvolier is a school after all," Professor Fai replied flippantly, completely unfazed by General Byteron's intense gaze before waving his hand. "But please, continue, General. Perhaps you can teach this 'incompetent' fool a thing or two about running a school."

"Watch your tongue, halfspawn," the general snarled.

"Mm. Haven't heard that one in a while. I thought we were past all that after the Mage War of the Millennium. Ah, I suppose war does bring out the worst in people."

General Byteron chose to ignore the professor. Instead, he turned to address the still startled students. "You were sorted into new categories, correct? Then line yourselves up in four lines and in alphabetical order from left to right. Last names. Need I spell it out for you further? No? Then get moving!"

The student body seemed to collectively jump and scramble around to form said lines. When it wasn't done fast enough, General Byteron glanced at the two standing below. "Qentor, Wyvet, get these saps into proper formation."

The man simply nodded while the woman did a lazy salute. "Yes, sir."

After some confusion and surprisingly rough handling, four straight lines spanned the width of the hall. Combat and stealth in the front while messengers and medics stood behind. Nagan found himself near front and center, a wad of unease growing larger the longer he stood, yet he stood no less defiant. Whoever this general was, he was not a man to be respected in his books.

"Remember where you stand," General Byteron began, "because from now on, this is where you will stand at seven hundred sharp. Any later, and you will remain standing all throughout breakfast. The same applies to eighteen hundred sharp. Your new schedules will be waiting in your rooms.

"After your little battle against the Kinsmen's dragons, it is high time you begin to do what you were originally brought back to do. You are here to train as soldiers, not play in the schoolyard and recite bits of information that are useless in battle."

The general seemed to eye each and every one of them as he continued. "The moment you accepted your dragon, this is what you were destined to become. Congratulations, soldiers, welcome to the 18th Company."

A wide range of emotions swept through the students. Some felt excitement while others felt fear; pride while others felt dread.

Though none felt such a heavy sense of foreboding as Nagan did, shuffling his feet with unease.

This was the beginning of a very long and winding path. What lied at the end, no one knew.