The Cadet
Chapter 1 — Diamond in the Rough
In the heart of the North-western territories, where rugged landscapes brushed against burgeoning prosperity, the border town of Mi’derra shimmered as a testament to human potential.
Laughter and the tantalizing scents of exotic spices intertwined within the stone arches of its grand bazaar. Mi’derra was a jewel — vibrant, affluent, and ripe with opportunities for those who possessed both luck and cunning.
Beneath the surface of this prosperous market town, however, lay a current of discord. Within the labyrinthine alleys and shadowed courtyards, rival factions of street boys waged their petty wars. Some were born into these circumstances, sons of poverty who knew only the hard laws of survival. Others were castaways, runaways from far-flung places seeking something more. Though divided by name and allegiance, they clung to their shared existence with youthful ferocity.
Amidst this world of youthful struggle, a figure navigated the crowded bazaar with uncharacteristic ease for a boy of his slight stature and ragged garb. He bore the weathered look of a traveler, yet, despite his humble origins, his bright eyes carried a mischievous spark, as if the world around him was merely a game in which he played a leading role. Hunger often gnawed at his belly, but Qyi had learned to barter and wheedle with remarkable talent, stretching meager coins further than a miser’s purse. In the chaos of the market, he thrived.
In a particularly ornate section of the bazaar, where jewels winked in the midday sun and the scent of fresh bread drew a steady stream of customers, the rhythmic peace of commerce was suddenly broken. Shouts echoed, followed by the sounds of scuffling and angry curses.
This was the territory of the Cobras, a particularly rough group of street urchins known for their boldness and propensity for violence. Now they were locked in a heated confrontation with a band of Scorpions — equally ferocious rivals known for their ruthlessness.
Qyi watched the chaos unfold from the fringes of the crowd, his gaze flickering between the tense standoff and the wealthy patrons hastily edging away.
Amidst the clamor, a young Aphaya Huk strolled through the marketplace in deliberate contrast to the chaos erupting nearby. She’d come to Mi’derra on a respite from her duties as a Sey Emissary. It should have been a time of relaxation, yet her keen eyes missed nothing. Her hand brushed against the Sey Medallion nestled beneath her elegant robes, a subtle yet ever-present reminder of her calling. It was this vigilance that caught the brewing altercation before it had a chance to escalate fully.
Suddenly, a rock arced through the air, finding its mark on a particularly burly Cobra’s nose. He howled in rage, launching himself at a slender Scorpion boy. The crowd rippled outwards, cries of surprise morphing into the excited roars of spectators eager for entertainment. Yet, Qyi refused to move. A curious sensation bloomed within him, a mixture of unease and the unsettling certainty that action was necessary.
In the moment before violence fully bloomed, he sprang forward. “Stop!” His voice carried a surprising authority for one so young and unassuming. For a fleeting moment, the street fighters turned in surprise, fury suspended in the air like a half-drawn breath.
“What’s this runt think he’s doing?” sneered a Scorpion, the insult catching him more off guard than any well-aimed fist could have. Qyi was small for his fourteen years, his wiry frame a stark contrast against his would-be opponents. Yet, he held his ground. “Just… stop. Look at yourselves!” Qyi gestured vaguely to the groups. “All this fighting…and for what? Pride? Territory? whats the point?”
His words hung in the air, a bold challenge to the chaos. The Cobras and Scorpions, momentarily halted by the audacity of this interloper, exchanged wary glances. Skepticism and hostility mingled in their expressions, yet the undercurrent of curiosity was undeniable. It was a stalemate of sorts, a brief respite in their endless conflict, bought by Qyi’s intervention.
“Everyday” He continued, “You each line the streets and embark on these pointless quarrels, each trying to best the other. And what for, to claim terrirtory that belongs to the Crown. Its just a matter of time before the Legion gets involved and every one of you is rounded up and sent to Pruh…”
From the edge of the crowd, Aphaya watched, her interest piqued. There was something about the boy — a spark of potential, perhaps, or merely the rare sight of bravery in the face of senseless violence. Her hand rested lightly on the hilt of her knife, feeling its contours through the fabric of her cloak.
As the tension simmered, a Scorpion, emboldened by the hesitation of his peers, sneered, ready to dismiss Qyi’s plea. But before the situation could devolve, Aphaya stepped forward. Her movement was graceful, almost ethereal, yet carried an undeniable authority. The crowd parted for her, their curiosity now divided between the boy and this new, enigmatic figure.
“He is right gentlemen, Isn’t there enough conflict in the world without adding to it in the streets?” Her voice was calm, yet it carried a weight that silenced the murmurs of the onlookers. “And I can guarantee you, Pruh is not a place you’d like to find yourselves”
The combatants, both Cobra and Scorpion alike, paused, their attention captured by her presence.
Aphaya’s gaze settled on Qyi, offering a nod of silent approval. She then turned her attention to the street boys, eyes briefly flashing to the medallion at her chest, visible now to those closest to her. The effect was immediate; whispers of “Sey” fluttered through the crowd like startled birds, and the would-be combatants recoiled as if the medallion itself held power.
One of the Cobras, older and with a hint of recognition in his eyes, stepped back, his posture shifting from aggression to a wary respect. “We want no trouble,” he muttered, a sentiment quickly echoed by his comrades. The Scorpions, too, recognizing the gravity of the situation, sheathed their makeshift weapons, their leader nodding grudgingly in agreement.
With the crisis averted, the crowd began to disperse, the spectacle over as quickly as it had begun. Aphaya turned to Qyi, her expression inscrutable. “You are an interesting and bold little fellow, arent’ you?” She smiled, “and You have a keen sense of justice,” she observed, her voice carrying an undercurrent of respect.
“Nah,” Qyi replied still recovering from the adrenaline of the moment, managed a shrug “More of self preservation really. You see everytime the Cobras and Scorpions go at each other, things get out of hand. The governor sends in his guards and they make life a whole lot harder for everyone. That usually results in days without food for me.”
“It just seemed like the right thing to do,” he replied, his casual demeanor belying the intensity of the encounter.
Aphaya smiled, a rare and fleeting expression that softened her otherwise stoic visage. “Indeed, it was. Tell me, have you ever considered a life beyond these streets? There are places where your skills could be honed, where you could learn to wield influence not just with words, but with action.”
Qyi’s interest was piqued, the earlier rush of confrontation replaced by a growing curiosity about this mysterious woman and the world she hinted at. “And what kind of place might that be?” he asked, his tone a mix of skepticism and intrigue.
“Orbius Sanctuary” Aphaya replied.
“The Sey Academy?” Qyi’s voice lifted, a crescendo of excitement breaking through, as if the very name sparked a flame within him.
“Correct. I believe you’d make an exceptional addition to our ranks,” Aphaya advanced towards him, her tone dipping into a solemn octave. “But be forewarned, Qyi, the path I offer is strewn with challenges. The rigor of the training is but the tip of the iceberg.”
Interrupting with a mix of pragmatism and a glimmer of hope, Qyi interjected, “But will there be a soft bed to collapse into each night? And meals — will they come regularly?”
“Indeed, those comforts, along with garments unsullied by the dust of these streets, will be yours,” Aphaya assured, her words painting a picture of a life far removed from the one Qyi knew.
Without hesitation, Qyi declared, “Then you have my word. I’ll come.”
“Very well,” Aphaya said, her gaze sweeping over the bustling market one final time. “Join me at dawn by the town’s gates. I have affairs to settle here before we embark for Ivory City.”
Qyi extended his hand, his smile broad and genuine. “It’s a pact, then!”
Their handshake sealed the agreement, a symbol of new beginnings. With a heart buoyant with hope and a stride buoyed by the promise of adventure, Qyi departed, each step echoing his newfound purpose.
