The cell was chilly.

As prisons went, he'd seen worse. Far worse. Here, the iron bars were new and recently enchanted, without a hint of rust as he'd seen in the holding cell in Nilad. The lock was much better, tough enough that Alarion had pushed his lockpicking skill up nearly 30% after three days of idle attempts.

The cell itself was much older than its bars—original to the keep, if he had to guess. Ilvan-Shad was an old Ashadi fortress refurbished as the headquarters of the Southern Military District after the war. Its dungeons were vast and ancient, which meant they kept secrets amongst the decades of tally marks that lined the brick walls.

Sadly, here, that had only amounted to a few loose bricks that concealed narcotics and subversive literature. Both were useless to him, but the search was a good way to pass the time.

Even the bed was acceptable. True, it might be overly charitable to call the pile of loose straw a bed in the traditional sense, but it lacked vermin, and he'd been able to dry it to his satisfaction under only a few minutes of precision [Solar Discharge]. He'd even gotten rid of the mildew smell in the process.

Mostly.

It would have been an ideal prison stay. If only it were warmer.

They were at the tail end of spring, mere days from the start of summer. The weather had been balmy for days, and the prison cells were barely below ground. Meanwhile, his cell was cold enough to watch each breath condense as it escaped his lips.

It just didn't make sense.

He'd have blamed magic, but if a spell were at play, he couldn't find it. The ambient mana in the prison was utterly generic, and there were no signs of enchantment on anything apart from the bars. The room was simply chilly.

He was not cold—that he would have handled better. Despite the mediocre bed, he found the provided wool blanket surprisingly cosy. Wrapped up, he could endure the worst of the chill—until he overheated. Then he had to kick off the blanket, which let the chill in and caused him to take up the blanket once more.

It was a vicious cycle—a sadistic game put in place by the world's most passive-aggressive torturer.

Or it was a complete coincidence, and Alarion was bored out of his mind.

Either or.

It had been three days. Three days of solitary confinement. Of terrible meals and impatience. As crisp military steps clicked down the hall outside his cell, Alarion welcomed his punishment.

"Hmm." The man said with a measure of surprise as he saw Alarion standing at full attention on the opposite side of the bars.

He was an older man in a crisp white and gold officer's uniform. The pips and stars on his breast marked him as a Brigadier General, but he was unfamiliar to Alarion. His hair was grey and short-cropped, with matching facial hair styled into a severe point an inch below his chin. He looked fit for his age, but stood only a few inches taller than Alarion, an unusual trait for a Vitrian officer.

"At ease, Specialist… Orphan, is it?" The man squinted at the clipboard in his hand, then fetched a pair of reading glasses from his breast pocket and tried again. "My name is Brigadier General Williams. I am the newly assigned commander of the Southern Military District. You are Alarion. No family name. You're seventeen?"

"Yes, sir," Alarion said.

"Two-thirty-eight?" Alarion's jaw clicked as he clenched it tight to avoid responding to the slur. Then the man asked again. "Your Aptitude, this is correct?"

"Yes, sir," Alarion answered, grateful he'd bitten his tongue. The officer wasn't insulting him; he was reading Alarion's most recent Status.

General Information

Name – Alarion Species – Human Sex – Male Age – Seventeen Years HP – 2123/2123 [+0.074/sec] MP – 1514/1514 [+0.21/sec] Stamina – 2832/2832 [+4.72/sec] Aptitude – 238% UCL – 84

Attributes

STR – 501 AGI – 396 VIT – 588 INT – 432 PER – 432 WIL – 356 LUK – 1746

Classes Known

Orphan – Level 19 – Progress – 53% Survivor – Level 1 – Progress – MAX Stubborn Swordsman – Level 37 – Progress – 78% Unraveller – Level 17 – Progress – 36%

General Skills Known

Stealth – Level 7 – Progress – 12% Detection – Level 8 – Progress – 88% Thrown Weapon Mastery – Level 10 – Progress – MAX Oversized Weapon Mastery – Level 9 – Progress – 12% Lock-picking – Level 9 – Progress – 71%

Orphan Skills Known

Self-Motivated – Level 8 – Progress – 68% Lucky Strike – Level 8 – Progress – 18%

Stubborn Swordsman Class Skills

Pig-Headed Resilience – Level 8 – Progress – 9% The Best Offence is a Good Offense – Level 8 – Progress – 42% Endure Through the Pain – Level 3 – Progress – 22% Dimensional Evasion – Level 3 – Progress – 98%

Unraveller Class Skills

Introverted Mana Sense – Level 9 – Progress – 17% Unbound Spellcraft – Level 10 – Progress – MAX Kal-Taran Meditation – Level 10 – Progress – MAX Ebb and Flow – Level 4 – Progress – 33% Summon Familiar – Level 3 – Progress 72%

Traits and Feats of Strength

Avian Bane – Rank I Soulless Bane – Rank II Fiend Bane – Rank I Juvenile Enchanter – Rank I Favor of Lal Viren – Moderate

Flaws

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

Splintered Mana Circuits – Major Unknown – Moderate Single-Minded– Minor (Focus: Ebb and Flow)

His unit's Status record was a month out of date, and Alarion had to repeatedly update the existing information as they went. That much was normal, but the depth of the questioning was not. The specific details of his class combination, spells, and skills were all included in the documentation, but the way he used them was not.

"This… Dimensional Evasion skill. I see nothing in your status that you could use to activate it. An item?"

"Yes, Sir. My sword, Echo, allows me to dimensionally shift to its location at will," Alarion answered.

"Do you use this offensively? Or defensively?"

Alarion called up the skill in question, reviewing it before answering.

Dimensional Evasion [Exceptional]

Description: While evasion in the physical realm helps to avoid an attack altogether, dimensional evasion is not so limited. Through your strong sympathetic connection to the weapon Echo, you have learned to dissipate damage from an otherwise successful attack through dimensional travel.

Requirements: Sympathetic connection to a dimensionally affinity weapon. Ability to teleport. Teleport 100 times in combat.

Type: Active

Cost: 100 MP

Effects: Heal a moderate amount of recently inflicted damage after a successful teleportation. This damage must have been inflicted within .8 seconds of the teleportation (0.5 seconds base + 0.1/level)

Growths: AGI +8

Note: Should the weapon Echo be destroyed, you will lose access to this skill until a new bond has been created with a suitable replacement.

"Both." When it was clear the man wanted more information, Alarion provided it. "I have had little practical experience with the skill since I obtained it. In training, I have been able to trade hits, knowing that I could heal quickly. I have also used the skill to regenerate from an unexpectedly heavy blow."

"I see." Williams adjusted his glasses and looked back at the clipboard. "Now tell me about…"

The interrogation went on and on, covering most of Alarion's repertoire. Sometimes, Williams only asked for confirmation, but more often, he drilled down, pressing Alarion about why he'd chosen a specific skill or how it fit into his strategy more broadly.

It was hard to get a read on the man. He showed little emotion as he spoke and appeared indifferent to the substance of Alarion's answers as he gave them. It was behavior more suited for an Ordinate than a commissioned officer.

"That should do," Williams said as they came to the end of Alarion's status. He took off his glasses and stowed them away. Then he tucked his arms neatly behind his back, his free hand holding the opposite wrist as he paced slightly on the edge of the bars. "Your reputation precedes you, Specialist Orphan."

That was either very good or very bad.

"The whole business with your induction and the awful tragedy that befell the former governor notwithstanding, you have a rather conflicted record."

If he were waiting for Alarion to say something, he would be disappointed. The young man stood as tall as he was able, his chin tipped up as the officer continued.

"Three months of exceptional service on fiend subjugation under Casey. Then you broke ranks on three separate occasions and spent a month in the stockade. Worried about your patron, Casey transferred you to garrison duty, where you served without issue for another ten months before suddenly refusing to follow orders. From there, you bounce from unit to prison to unit to prison." The man eyed Alarion steadily, perhaps searching his expression for signs of defiance or contrition. "Then you finally got back on track for four months, only to put yourself here by striking your commanding officer."

Alarion maintained eye contact, but said nothing.

"You can speak."

"Sir," Alarion acknowledged, then said nothing more.

This time, the man sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Explain."

"Is there any point, Sir? I lost my temper, but the offense is strict liability. My state of mind does not matter."

That made Williams smile. It was a faint thing, but it was there.

"I decide what matters," He explained. "The 71st under Casey had an abnormally high attrition rate for provincial inductees. Twenty-five percent on a good month. But zero percent on the three days where you left your position."

Alarion acknowledged the words with a curt nod.

"You performed your tasks to the letter during garrison duty until the Kisla riots. Is that right?" Alarion nodded again. "And you refused to redeploy three times, even in the face of what my reports show was a severe public lashing. You only returned to duty once the riots were over. From there, you spent the spring on a patrol circuit of the southern reach. That is a lot of empty land and just as many isolated towns with little outside communication. The perfect place for a new boil to go unnoticed. But when you get back to the city…"

"Lieutenant Pierce took us on a finishing tour of the city," Alarion said at last, a spark of righteous anger brewing within him. "Our route took us across a bread protest in the lower city-"

"You mean the riot."

"Respectfully, no, Sir. The protesters were unarmed and, for the most part, were non-violent. They were petitioning the garrison and were simply in our way. Lieutenant Pierce ordered them to disperse. When they did not, he ordered us to disperse them."

"And you took exception to that order?"

"I refused it outright."

"And then?"

"I was ordered again. I refused again. I was ordered into custody, and I submitted." Alarion frowned. "One protester threw a stone. It clipped the Lieutenant on the forehead, and he lost composure. He ordered us to attack the protesters. Not disperse, but to attack."

The older man's face was as inscrutable as ever, despite the emotion in Alarion's voice. "And then you struck him?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Why?"

"If the rest of the unit focused on stopping me, they would be too busy to follow his orders."

"So you struck him for others, not out of anger?" Williams asked.

Alarion opened his mouth to answer, then caught himself. "Both, sir."

"Mmm, I can not punish you for lying, at least." The officer gave a grim chuckle. "You understand if your patron were anyone else, you'd have been executed months ago."

"Not true, sir. Given my age, background, and offense history, sentencing guidelines would indicate an extension of service or transfer to a penal battalion. At least, for the previous offenses." For the first time, it appeared Alarion's words had Williams at a loss. "I have been studying for the VLST during my off hours, Sir."

"You want to become a solicitor?"

Alarion shook his head. "Not as a profession, no, Sir. But being well-versed enough in the Structures to pass the exam will allow me to argue on my behalf if needed. I have learned not to rely too heavily on others. And… it is interesting. A hobby."

"I would not have taken you for the scholarly sort."

"Neither did I," Alarion admitted.

"Well then, you can tell me. What is the punishment for a provincial inductee who strikes a superior officer?"

Alarion stiffened, drew a breath, and answered. "That would depend, Sir."

"On what?"

"On whether the action was warranted or justifiable. Even if it was not, several mitigating factors could apply, including-"

"Enough." Williams said with a dismissive wave, "You are under my purview, which means you are my problem. Mitigating factors or no, I could have you executed. It would garner favor as high as the Imperator, if rumors are to be believed, and anger from a walking nightmare. I could allow you off without punishment and infuriate those same factions without pleasing your benefactor in the slightest. In those terms, the choice seems clear."

A wave of dread passed through Alarion, but it was fleeting. Though he remained antisocial among his peers, the years had sharpened his social instincts all the same. A Brigadier General wouldn't waste his time talking to a dead man.

"But… you are also an asset in and of yourself, and my district is stretched dangerously thin. Between your attributes, class rarities, and that Orphan class, I would rate you favorably to any early Rank II under my command. Provided you can follow orders, it would be foolish to waste you. But that seems to be a sticking point."

Alarion said nothing. The general didn't want his input. He was pontificating.

"Another patrol discovered a substantial boil to the north-west. Rank II at a minimum. It has spread at least thirty miles and killed three towns. I need it dealt with, but I cannot spare a large force with spring at an end and the unrest already intensifying. An autonomous unit would be better, faster. A few dozen awakened of Rank I and II. With luck, you destroy it. If not, the survivors can retreat, and I will summon a proper subjugation from the provincial capital."

"You expect casualties." It wasn't a question.

"If you die, it will please the hardliners and cost me nothing. If you survive, it still looks like I tried, and your sponsor is happy that you are no longer stagnating," Williams said honestly. "Given the risk, we will consider it your punishment. Along with a six-month extension of your induction."

"And if I refuse?"

"Then we will schedule a prompt execution for dereliction of duty and assaulting an officer."

The casual way Williams made the threat reminded Alarion of Dar Elzmir. His already low estimation of the man dropped another notch. Williams had played at understanding, even accepting Alarion's motivations, but like all Vitrians, his goals were transactional. He didn't care that Alarion was right to save his fellow soldiers, or that Alarion was right to have knocked out several of Pierce's teeth. He just needed justification to do what he wanted to do already.

He was just another user like all the others.

"Well then, I accept."

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.