When you get banished to the Outcasts, most people think their life is over. They imagine a cruel death, alone, forgotten by the world. Most do die that way. But a rare few… survive.
You learn to be cold in the winters, to crawl through the dust in summers just to find water. You learn to be silent when the wind carries the wrong sound, to keep your head down when the Empire's eyes pass over you. But the worst? The uncertainty. The knowledge that any day, any moment, a pair of Sentinels could walk in and put a bullet in your head. For no reason. And the Empire wouldn't even blink. You are nothing.
I tightened my fists, feeling the bite of the frost creeping through the worn sleeves of my jacket. Cade was across the clearing, circling me like he always did, smirking with that infuriating confidence.
I swung trying to get him to shut up and wipe that stupid smirk of his face, then he ducked as low as he could and slammed me face down. "You're really slow lately Aren" he said looking at me. "And here I was thinking, living with me would make you a better fighter."
I grit my teeth and feinted left, then lunged.
His eyes widened as if caught off guard but still it wasnt good enough considering my arm hit his like a brick wall, he blocked what I thought a certain hit. "I told you, too slow."
I rolled my eyes at him, when a awful sound of clicking of the boots shattered the tension between Cade and me.
Beside us stood 3 Sentinels, each armed and fully loaded ready to kill anyone who even dared speak up to them. Luckily for us only rare ever would do such things because most of us had something to live and provide for. But it doesn't always have to be a reason to get killed, sometimes it's just cruelty. Today might have been a day where it's only cruelty without reasoning.
Mr. Lisson was taking out the trash the moment these Sentinels passed by his house, bit down the street away from us, Cade and me just looking, observing. The doors of the Tent Mr. Lisson called home with his wife and a kid, was slightly open, inside a nice warm soup ready as Mr Lisson just went to throw out the trash.
"Old man, who got you the money for that thing there inside? Did you rob something, huh?" *A sentinel hit him with his gun in the liver, Mr. Lisson fell on the ground looking up, eyes carrying sadness and tiredness begging for life. "I didn't steal anything I wouldn't do such thing I swear it to the Empire"
One of the Sentinels looked at the others then nodding as he looked back on the poor low-life of Mr. Lisson looking up at them begging silently. "Your fingers or death? Choose."
Everyone knew how brutal Sentinels can be, and knowing them they would take away your whole arm just because they remember how low their salary is, especially in a Empire such as ours that isn't even close to the top ones.
"Fingers.." Mr Lisson murmured as the Sentinel flicked out his razor and just started laugh with his other 2 Sentinels as he kneeled down pinned Mr Lissons hand and looked at him one more time, before swiftly cutting off his fingers in one movement. Echoes of the Scream went so fast and so sharp I don't think they will ever be removed from my brain.
I grit my teeth and tightened my fists, then I felt a force on my shoulders. It was Cades hand holding me back out of doing something stupid that I would regret and get myself killed. It was smart what he thought but I still hated them, I hated them more than anything because they played Gods without anyone allowing them.
The Sentinels walked away, leaving the Down part of the North Outcast, we were the lowest level of the Outcasts so they didn't really care what happened to us considering the Winter would most likely wipe us out even if they didn't lift a finger. No one kept records of us, they didn't need to, we were irrelevant.
I stood there with Cade as we made our way inside the house, we had a more luxurious house than anyone else there considering we had real walls that could keep us warm and real mattress that could be used for some quality sleep. Elia was inside making food as we stepped inside.
"I was ready to call you guys, the food is ready." She told us as Cade closed the door behind me. "I heard the scream, I'm assuming they cut off the fingers for stealing right?" She was too young to know, sadly here even at the ages of six you know if you steal you're getting executed or your fingers cut off.
"Dont worry about it Elia" Cade said as he sat down at the table, across of me looking at me just staring mostly. "Wave season is approaching, Aren." Looking up at me picking up his spoon "You're still not ready and you need to learn fast, we don't know what you will get or even if you'll survive but we need you ready at the top of your combat."
"Stop lying." I looked at him as I got up "Prove it that I am 'weak'."
I pushed myself toward the training mat in the corner, ignoring the heat of the fire Cade had started in the hearth. Elia moved quietly between the table and the small stove, humming softly, the smell of simmering stew filling the cold room. I wanted to yell at her to leave, to not see this world yet, but words caught in my throat. She was already too aware, too awake to the cruelty outside our walls.
Cade stepped beside me, tossing a worn wooden sword into my hands. His smirk had returned, sharper now. "Stop staring at her. If you freeze up here, you'll die in the first hour of the Wave. Remember that."
I gritted my teeth and assumed my stance, the old wooden sword feeling heavy but familiar. Cade circled, quick and silent, his eyes calculating. "Move faster. Anticipate. Don't wait for me to hit you; make me react."
We clashed. The sound of wood meeting wood echoed off the walls, each strike sharp and precise. Cade was fast, faster than anyone I'd fought, but I felt something stirring inside me an instinct, a weight in my limbs that pushed me beyond normal reflexes. My hand jerked, my body twisted, and the blade I held met his guard with an impact that made him step back, eyes widening just slightly.
"Hmm… interesting," he muttered under his breath, a glint of surprise in his gaze. "You're learning faster than I thought. But it's not enough. Not yet."
I ignored him and lunged again, more focused, letting my frustration fuel my speed. The mat beneath my feet squeaked with every pivot, every sudden movement, until sweat burned my eyes and my arms ached. Yet even as Cade blocked, parried, and struck back, I felt it the raw potential in my limbs, the sharpness that went beyond skill or training. It was as if my body was remembering something it hadn't known it could do.
Then Cade stopped. He held my sword lightly against my chest, eyes calm but piercing. "Enough. For now."
I dropped to my knees, chest heaving, staring at him with a mix of exhaustion and disbelief. "You… you're holding back."
"Of course I am," he said simply, wiping sweat from his brow. "I'm not trying to kill you… yet. But the Empire won't. The Wave… the world… it doesn't care about mercy. You'll need to move faster, think faster, feel faster, or you'll be nothing."
I swallowed hard, nodding. My fists still tingled, my mind racing. He was right. Everything out there the Sentinels, the cruelty, the Empire itself wasn't going to wait for me to catch up.
Elia came over then, setting a small bowl of stew beside me. "You need to eat, Aren. Don't let Cade push you into exhaustion." Her voice was soft, but firm. She looked at me like she always did, expecting me to survive, to be better than the world had already made me.
I glanced at her, then back at Cade. "I'll survive. I have to."
Cade smirked again, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "Good. Because the Wave is coming sooner than you think."
I felt the weight of his words settle in my chest. The fire flickered, casting long shadows across the walls, across the small room that had become our sanctuary. I looked outside through the frost-lined window, the North Outcast spread beneath the pale gray sky, silent except for the occasional distant shout or breaking of ice. It seemed peaceful, fragile. A very beautifully portraited lie.