Dawn came too early.
I was already on the training field when the first knights arrived, boots scuffing gravel, yawns half-stifled. The sky was the color of old steel. My rapier rested against a wooden post. I stood with arms folded, sleeves still folded above the elbows, ponytail loose from sleep. The silver rose caught the first light.
Lieutenant Garrick jogged up first broad shoulders, cropped brown hair, B-rank aura steady but unremarkable. He saluted.
"Morning, Captain. Ready for inspection?"
I nodded once. "Line them up."
The men formed three ranks. Twenty-four in total. I walked the line slow, eyes flat. Aura quiet. They felt it anyway.
Garrick cleared his throat. "We ran night patrols as ordered. No incidents."
"Good."
I stopped in front of a lanky kid nineteen, maybe twenty. C-rank at best. His shield from yesterday had cracked under a training bolt.
"Name."
"Elliot, sir."
"Elliot. Shield drill. Now."
He swallowed, raised his sword. The barrier flickered, thin as parchment. I tapped it with two fingers. It shattered.
"Again."
He tried. Same result.
I turned to Garrick. "All of them. Same drill. Until it holds."
Garrick hesitated. "Sir, the mages—"
"Are not here. Do it."
They drilled. Shields flickered, cracked, reformed. Sweat soaked uniforms. I watched. No yelling. No encouragement. Just presence.
In every fantasy story I ever read, the academy guards are cannon fodder. First to die when the gates fall. Writers love to say only the elite are chosen to protect the next generation. Bullshit.
I kept the thought inside. Forty years of office politics had taught me when to speak and when to shut up. These kids could kill me if I slipped. Worse One wrong word about the future and I'd be a corpse with a rapier-shaped hole.
Captain is strongest. A-rank. Lieutenant second. B-rank. Everyone else? C and below. That's twenty-three paper weights against whatever walks through the gate. Why? Arrogance. The headmaster SSS-rank. Vice-head SS. Archmages S+, S, A+. They sit in their towers and believe no one would dare attack with that much power on campus which might have been true if this was not The world of Aetheria, where some are mad as dogs. So then they toss the knights a bone. "Guard the future." Feels like honor. Smells like setup.
I didn't say it. I just watched Elliot's shield finally hold barely.
"Better," I said. "Again."
---
Mid-morning. I sent the men to breakfast and walked the perimeter alone. The academy walls were thirty feet high, white stone laced with silver runes. Pretty. Useless against a determined siege mage. I traced a finger along a ward line. Faint hum. Strong enough for show. Not enough for war.
Garrick caught up, wiping sweat from his brow.
"Captain, the men are asking about rotations. Some want gate duty. Looks good on record."
I kept walking. "Gate duty is a photo op. Real work is here." I tapped the wall. "Tell them no."
He nodded, used to the flat tone.
We passed the greenhouse. Glass panes, exotic plants, mana crystals glowing inside. Two archmages S-rank, robes like peacock feathers argued over soil composition. They didn't glance at us.
Paper weights.
I filed it away.
---
Noon. Mess hall. Long tables. Knights on one side, mage instructors on the other. I took a tray bread, stew, water and sat with my men. Garrick slid in across from me.
"Headmaster wants a demonstration next week," he said. "Knights versus third-year mages. Show the nobles we're ready."
I chewed. Swallowed. "We're not."
He blinked. "Sir?"
"Third-years are B+ average. We lose. Badly."
Garrick lowered his voice. "Then why agree?"
"Because the headmaster wants a show. We give him one. Controlled loss. No injuries. Keeps the nobles happy."
He stared. "You're planning to throw it?"
"Planning to survive it."
I finished the stew. Stood. "Afternoon drills. Pair work. Garrick, you're with me."
---
Training yard again. Sun high. Dust in the air.
I faced Garrick. Rapier drawn. He drew his broader blade standard knight issue. We saluted. No words.
He attacked first. Solid form. B-rank speed. I parried lazy, stepped inside, tapped his wrist. His sword clattered.
"Again."
We went ten rounds. He scored once tip grazed my sleeve. I nodded.
"Better."
The men watched. Elliot's shield held longer now. Another kid D-rank, freckles managed a full minute.
Small wins.
---
Evening. My office. Maps spread again. I added notes in the margins: weak points east wall drainage grate, library tower blind spot, greenhouse roof access. Red lines for patrol adjustments. Garrick knocked, entered with a stack of duty rosters.
"Revised rotations, sir. As requested."
I scanned. Nodded. "Post them."
He hesitated. "Captain… the men respect you. But they're nervous. Say you push too hard."
I leaned back. "They'll live longer nervous than dead."
He left.
I poured a finger of liquor. Didn't drink. Just stared at the amber.
Arrogance breeds weakness. The strong believe their presence is defense enough. So the guards stay weak. When the attack comes because it always does the mages will be busy posturing. The knights will die first. Then the students.*
I corked the bottle.
Not this time.
---
Night patrol. I took the east wall myself. Moonlight on stone. Wind carried the scent of pine from the forest beyond. I walked the parapet slow, boots silent. Aura quiet. A sentry new kid, C-rank snapped to attention.
"Captain."
"Report."
"All clear, sir."
I nodded. Kept walking.
Halfway along the wall, I stopped. Below, in the shadows, a grate shifted. Metal on stone. Barely audible.
I didn't move. Didn't draw. Just watched.
A figure slipped through small, cloaked, quick. Landed cat-soft inside the grounds. Headed toward the dormitories.
I followed from wall, silent. The figure moved like they knew the blind spots. Someone's been watching.
I dropped to the ground behind them. Ten paces back. Aura still quiet.
The figure froze. Turned.
A girl. Sixteen maybe. Short brown hair. Mage robes first-year cut. Eyes wide.
"Lost?" I asked.
She bolted.
I sighed. One step, rapier out, point at her throat before she took three.
"Name."
She trembled. "Lila. Lila Wren. I—I was just—"
"Sneaking in after curfew. Through a drainage grate."
Her aura flickered—D-rank, maybe C-. Scared.
I lowered the blade. "Go back the way you came. Next time, use the gate."
She stared. "You're not reporting me?"
"Not my job to babysit rule-breakers. My job is keeping you alive when the real trouble shows up."
She ran.
I watched her vanish into the shadows. Then I marked the grate on my map. Seal it tomorrow.
---
Back in quarters. I sat at the desk, added the incident to the security log. No drama. Just facts.
Garrick knocked. "Captain, the headmaster's aide is here. Wants the demonstration plan."
I handed him a folded sheet. "Give him this. We yield at the third exchange. Controlled. No blood."
He took it. "You're sure?"
"Positive."
He left.
I leaned back. Closed my eyes.
*Paper weights don't win wars. But they can buy time. And time is the only currency that matters.*
Tomorrow, more drills. More maps. More quiet watching.
The story hadn't started yet.
But I was already writing the margins.
---