By the time Sagiri was finished going through the curriculum, mastering it with the help of the archive inside him, it exhausted all the energy left inside him, and he felt hungry. Mastering things did take a lot of energy, and he was beginning to understand why the Galka lions ate as much as they did. It was already midnight, and he could hear movements from all sides as the fourth-year students poured in. Naga hadn't been kidding when he said the students only got to sleep after midnight. As much as he wanted to eavesdrop on what they said about him, he was too tired. He pulled on his oru-seals against his ears and passed out immediately.
He had barely closed his eyes before a loud ringing sound jolted him awake. According to the curriculum, he had approximately ten minutes to get out of his bed, clean himself, and get dressed. If he wasn't out of his dorm in ten minutes, then he could be punished with one less hour of sleep. The hours of sleep were already too little and if it got reduced by an hour, he could die before the third day. He drugged his still closed eyes to the bathroom and had a shower before he pulled on his clothes and carried his oru-seals in his pocket. No matter how much he harried, he was still a few seconds later, and everyone was already seated on their knees, backs straight, hoods pulled forward, and still as a rock in their meditative positions. The dorm wing was built like a huge circular hall with rooms on the ground and top floors. The meditative instructor was standing in his black combat, his eyes scanning everyone.
"Room 246 is late, minus one hour of sleep tonight." A voice announced, and Sagiri physically flinched. That was the fastest he had ever showered and dressed, yet he was late. "A good soldier doesn't have time to shower before attending to an emergency." The instructor added. The other boys might have been sitting quietly in meditation, but he could feel their feelings of happiness at his naivety. Of course, they woke up before the gong sounded to prepare. No matter how fast he showered, he could still have been late.
He sank to his knees and used the time to enter his meditative sleep mode. The meditation went on for almost an hour till it was five. While the rest of the forth years could take between 5 and 6 in the morning to practice team combat, he would be studying alone under Captain Fuwuka Chimera Bami on core combat lessons equal to those for first years for the next two months.
They were the most basic in the overall subject of the Art of War. To put it nicely, he was worse off in combat than the first-year recruits who were only three months into their first year. He could be trained in combat footwork, grip balance, basic evasion, war history, field discipline, and first form stances all in one. If he had joined early, all these would be different lessons, but for him, they would be compressed into one. He would be so lucky if he were in a parallel universe where pain was good.
Sagiri ran to the central building, fearing getting punished again if he was late. By the time he made it to the central pentagon, he was sweating bullets. The warden standing guard regarded him with pity before he let him into the first-year pentagon. That was where he could be studying the basics of the art of war every morning because all the fourth-year combat arenas are busy in the mornings, training the fourth-year combat teams. The first years didn't care much about him because they probably didn't know who he was. Yet, he appreciated that. How he wished he could stay in the first year Pentagon for the entirety of the two months he could be studying all the compressed first year subjects.
The combat arena was much smaller and the obstacles and weapons much viewer but to Sagiri they still looked intimidating. That, however, was not the most intimidating thing because in the middle of the arena stood a slightly smaller version of Captain Salka, but who looked meaner than the old ink keeper he met at the exam council. He turned around just when Sagiri entered, his eyes narrowed to slits. He wore the same rank sash as Captain Salka, white with gold threads. He seemed to be the same as Captain Salka's. Is he a captain? His hair was pulled into three braids, two at the back and one on the left side of his face. He was wielding a spear as tall as him.
"You are late!" he snapped. "You are terribly unfit if you are sweating just by running here." Sagiri couldn't be considered a nonfit person, but running across the three humongous pentagons was the same as running a couple of thousand vaara, and only a genetically wrong person couldn't feel the weight.
"Here!" he said, throwing the spear into Sagiri's hands without warning. It fell diagonally on his hands. His hands twisted forward, making it fall. He picked it up quickly, not to anger the already angry Mr. Fuwuka of the chimera clan of the Bami tribe. He and Salka were merely separated by clans, yet he looked smaller compared to Salka. Even so, he was still huge. His face grew even angrier when the spear hit the ground with a thud.
"I don't know why Senraki could ask me to teach such." He looked Sagiri up and down like he was dirt. Sagiri was too sleep-deprived, too tired, and too hungry to care, however. He just wanted to find a place to hide and sleep for just a couple of minutes.
"Hold that sword on your shoulder as if you want to throw it." He instructed, and Sagiri obeyed and laid the cold steel on his left shoulder, holding it with his left hand.
"Now run around the field and don't change your hand until I tell you to." Is all he said before he went to stand on a raised platform watching his every move. Sagiri was already tired from running across three pentagons, and he physically did not have anything left in him. He, however, did not have a way out. He needed to move before he angered the man further. His clothes were not helping, and after one lap, they felt even heavier. He could not chuck them away, however, because of his secrets, and so he persevered. He felt hot and his knees burned after yet another lap. The spear that was initially neither heavy nor light started to feel heavier, and his lifted hand started to burn.
Instructor Fuwuka had not moved an inch as he watched him drag his feet. In fact, his face had grown meaner. Even after she circled another couple of times, he didn't ask him to change his hand, and his hand started to tremble violently.
"If you stop, I will take off an hour out of your sleeping time!" He yelled when Sagiri fell for the second time. His tone was cold. Sagiri couldn't sense any malicious feelings from the guy. Just disgusted at his weakness. He ran for the entirety of the remaining time, barely breathing until the gong sounded for breakfast, and instructor Fuwuka still never asked him to change his hand. He just left the combat arena without saying a word, and only said a few words over his shoulder when he was almost at the exit. "If you are late, you miss breakfast," he said before disappearing out the door.
Up till that moment, Sagiri had thought he was strong, but all his willpower left him when Fuwuka left, and he fell forward on the arena, unmoving for a few minutes. It's not that he was not scared to miss breakfast, but he did not have the strength to move. He clenched his fist, trying to move, but he couldn't. It was physically impossible.
He dragged his body across the first year pentagon, holding his right hand with the left as it shook violently. His feet shook with exhaustion, and he staggered through the administrative pentagon. He was the only student allowed to cross to the first wing, and he was happy no one could see him in that state. He was angrier at himself than anyone, and self-loathed in that moment. He was weaker than he thought.
He had spent the last few years believing he was strong, and under supervisor Fuwuka's instructions, he had realized he was weak. He pushed himself to move again, but by the time he got to the dining wing, the tables were already cleared, and students were running in the opposite direction to the administration pentagon. He had never been so hungry in his life, and he wanted to cry. At this rate, he was going to truly die just like Captain Salka had speculated. He wished to cry, but crying had been an impossibility for him since he was born. He had never shed a tear.
He did not want to get punished again, so he dragged his tired and hungry body to the central pentagon assembly arena. He was the last to push through the gate, and when he started walking to the very back, a foot was deliberately put in his way, which sent him flying a few feet before he fell forward.
He was even too weak to feel the malicious intent of the boy from yesterday. He fell forward on his hands and knee and his face coincidentally smacked into big boots. He looked up slowly, but he couldn't see the head of the person standing in front of him. He oozed pride, confidence, and power. He was definitely tall, and after a few more years of growth, he would pass for Salka's twin, yet he was only a high school student.
"Hey, Kaka, the new student is already recognizing you as the King of Galka," the shorter guy beside the tall one mocked. His uniform was pulled to his waist, the arms tied around it, his chest left bare, and he had a wide smile on his face, as if he was always amused. A clan tattoo of a dagger was branded in the middle of his chest, going all the way to his navel.
The Zivara tribe's tribal tattoo.
"Shut up, Kiuga!" the huge mountain called Kaka snapped, but did not make a move to leave.
"I hear he is your equal since he survived the suffocation chamber." Kiuga didn't seem to care and kept mocking the bigger guy.
"Thlaka!" Kaka snapped, going to his throat, but Kiuga evaded him quickly, so fast and jumped back a few feet away, landing in a frog pose gracefully before standing to his feet. Kaka looked down at the Sagiri for a long moment, but he did not say anything before he stepped over him and walked to the other side, followed by Kiuga, who was laughing as he jumped from side to side beside him.
"King Bami is going to kill someone today again if Kiuga Tinega doesn't stop irritating him," a student retorted beside Sagiri.
Again? Sagiri wondered.
Had he killed a student? So he is the other survivor of the suffocation chamber. And he entered it willingly. Sagiri vowed to stay as clear and as far away from him as possible. The boy looked to be as strong with a severe case of anger. He was bigger than some instructors, and he was only a high school student. Sagiri finally pulled himself to his feet before moving to the very back and tried to stay as invisible as possible, but wearing his civilian clothes did not help at all as he received looks from students across the years. He was too hungry and tired, and all he wanted was to eat and sleep, yet he was forced to stand under the scrutiny of a thousand eyes.