Random Book of Jaric Fluff & Stuff

Scene #9

(I'm thinking of making this a four-part-Japeth at the School for Good and Evil, set in the third book under Rafal's leadership! Enjoy!)

"Order!" A rough voice barked. 

Japeth straightened, ready for trials to be made a member of a special force under his father, the School Master. It just so happened that the Captain was one of the Deans, and Japeth had been recommended by his father to join said force on account of his academic success.

Glancing down at his green-bordered black uniform, he dropped a red ribbon in a waist pocket and stood at attention as the doors swung open at the end of the hall and slow, echoing footsteps paced languidly into the room.

Together with twelve other boys, he was attempting to get into this force, to be one of three that guarded the castle and the School Master himself.

Japeth was at the close end of the line, so he had to wait, head and gaze straight ahead, without any inkling of who the Captain was. It was torturous, waiting, but he would do it for a chance back on his father's good side. That provided his father had one.

"Pathetic," the same deep voice mused as the footsteps sounded nearer to Japeth. "Is this truly the best the great School for Good and Evil has to offer? Weak. I could break you all blindfolded with a snap of my fingers."

Japeth pressed his lips together, quelling his temper. Better the Captain not know his identity as the School Master's son. At least he had been able to tint his eyes green and deepen his skin tone a little. Hopefully his build and height wouldn't give him away. But as long as Rafal kept up his look as a children's myth of Jack Frost, he was fine.

"You, straighten your back. Are you a boy or a half-dead flower?" The voice barked at someone three people down from Japeth. Not good, he was getting close.

"You, stop squinting. Threats won't just shove themselves in your face to make sure you see them before they take your life."

"Hmm, not too horrible. At least I have something to work with in you," the voice decided upon the boy to Japeth's left. Japeth internally winced and held his breath for a fraction of a second before the Captain halted in front of him once he had finished revolving around him from behind.

That's when Japeth nearly lost his breath. He recognized the face that sneered back at him like he was dirt on the floor. Black hair. Cadaverous skin. Angled features. Violet eyes.

Aric.

"You, you seem fit. Familiar as well, though I can't quite place you. Your name?"

"Zarad, sir," he answered, fighting to keep his tone emotionless and level. Anything could give him away, and Aric had quite a sharp eye.

"Last?"

"Jamil." Good thing he had masterfully crafted his guise.

"Hmm," Aric hummed dryly, then circled him once more before moving on.

Once he had finished, Aric took his place at the front of the room, where they had clear view of him and his tightly coiled, gleaming whip. "You all thought you could make something out of yourselves by joining my force. You all believed in yourself enough to risk your life for it to have a meaning. One of my favorite things about this job is that I get to do whatever I like with those unlucky ten who don't make it into the ranks. Anything. I. Wish. I suggest you do your best, for I am not a pleasant person. My whip isn't only for decoration-nor is it my only form of punishment. Tomorrow, at dawn, trials begin."

With that, he turned sharply on his heel and marched out, violet-bordered black sleeveless shirt and black pants shifting over his bulky form as he left. Japeth stared after him, at a loss for words. If only he could tell Aric, tell him his real name, show him his real identity, get himself killed in the process....