the divine art of bullish*t

Chapter 8

A/n-Not edited

Chieftain Maylar leads me in, with her strong hand in the small of my back. Her strides to the directors desk are more confident than mine. the director is in charge of everything here. he organises the academy finances, the training schedules and more. God he's probably seen my track record at failing to use something as simple as a sword.

i gulp, letting my throat get moist with saliva. before i greet him.

"director." i say and bow my head down. my face twists with cringe, its not like he's the fucking king.

he nods to Maylar, and she walks out the door, leaving us with an awkward silence.i roll on the balls of my heels, waiting for him to stop judging me.

i here him mutter something along the lines. of 'she'll do perfectly' or some bullshit like that as he shoves his cracked hands in a organised drawer and rummages through an assortment of papers.

he pulls up my school record and it slaps the old wood as it hits the table. i force a brave face while he flicks through my records, making small disapproving and approving sounds as he reads all my information.

Then, he pulls out an envelope, it has the royal stamp on it so it must be classified. but the slides it across to me. my eyes widen in confusion

"you might wanna sit for this" he nods to the chair in front of his desk, his voice is a lot less intimidating than Maylar. but i follow his command. carefully, my fingers peel open the wax seal. the room is filled with the awkward noises of paper rustling as i pull out the letter, its adressed to me, my eyes skip over the part where it says something along the lines of 'this is classified bla bla bla' my eyes trail to the actual message,

'By virtue of your exceptional records and outstanding achievements in training and written exams on battle strategies, King Malin himself has bestowed upon you the honor of serving as his personal spy. Your mission is of utmost importance in the ongoing war efforts of our kingdom, as you are tasked with infiltrating the formidable walls of The Dradvow's war academy and gathering vital intelligence for our cause. We trust that your unwavering loyalty to your king and country shall guide your every move. This message bears the seal of the venerable High Council.'

what the fuck?

"listen." i slam the letter back onto the table.i gritt my teeth "the only reason im here, the only reason im doing 'good' is this death ridden place is because i want to leave" i exasperate. i wanted full pardon to run the other way and go back, but instead im forced to run towards it. the directors eyes narrow and he stands to his full height,

"i know it sounds like hell, but you will comply" he orders. i shake my head and close my head.

"For the good of the country and the war, hasn't your father taught you anything?" he says, as if pulling some 'this is for the good' will win my heart. it doesn't, but the mention of my father makes me keep talking.

"whats good about it if it only leads to death?" my eyes open and i force a straight look on my face. he stares back at me blankly. 

you know what? fine, i'll do this for my country, and ill only hope that i can die in the process, god knows im not capable in surviving behind enemy walls, let alone a school full of them, what have i got to loose? i let out a sigh and the directors head lifts, "okay," i agree, "i'll do this secret agent type shit for the province." i look out the window, our school had just been attacked and the outer wall was in the process of being rebuild. thats another thing, im desperately trying to figure out how the the hell Dradevows is stronger than us.

The directors nice mask is put back on and smiles, "perfect, for the rest of the year, you will be studying the ways of Dradevows, their terminology, their weaponry, you'll even work with someone to fake an accent" he clasps his hands like this is just a game.its nto, and itll most likely end in death

over the last few months i do as i was told, i learn the dradevow war academy rules, my accent could do a little bit more work but its getting better. 

"instead of fleets, they have?" my instructor quizes me "battalions." i answer,

"instead of raid teams they have?"

" squadrons," she nods, but i know theres more, " but, because Dradevows has a larger population their squadrons are broken down even more into troops, landing in 15 people or less in each." i say, its the textbook definition but correct either way.

She nods, "now all we need to work on is those weapon wielding skills of yours."