It was almost dusk when I reached the Isle. The other candidates were already set on their accommodations. The comforting words of my father as I rode the carriage ring true to my ears.
“Remember this, Cass: whoever you will become, I will be your proud father.”
Upon disembarking from the ferry, I was greeted by a sprightly young girl, flashing a warm smile. Her dark, feathery outfit gives away that she’s... a Crowan. An overwhelming sense of caution sprouted all over my mind. The countless faces I have seen under the scope... I don’t know how to feel, for I have closed my heart more and more each time I pulled the trigger.
Her smile faded and gave me slightly-concerned look. “It seems that this is your first visit to the Isle, and they then made you a Candidate. Not a good mix,” she said with a slightly deeper voice, shaking her head. “Still, I understand if you feel this way. Our people on the mainlands are still fighting. You may have also participated in them.”
“I’m... I’m sorry,” I said, but I noticed that she has kept her distance. While her face softens, her following words tell a different story. “No, don’t be. It’s natural to feel such caution when all of a sudden, you see people who look and dress like your enemies but act even more differently. Suspicion abounds, surely. I don’t blame you for what you have trained for, but please... sheathe that. For our mutual safety.” She pointed to my left with such a gentle gesture. Only when I looked down that I realized.
It was such an instinctive notion, I barely noticed the dagger I am wielding on my left hand at this very moment. This is getting more and more embarrassing for me, someone who was given the “regal duty” of representing the Kingdom of Aquille in this diplomatic tradition.
A tradition that is being fought over by the powers that be at this very moment.
It took some efforts for me to calm down, but I managed to drop my blade. Her face became a little bit more disappointed. I thought she wanted me to stop becoming a... a threat?
“While I appreciate you understanding what I meant, remember this: You still need to defend yourself here. So pick up your blade, and sheathe it. Please.” Ah, right. After heeding her words, sheathing the dagger into its proper scabbard, she extended her hand, fist closed.
“I’m Abigael Lemno, but I go with Gael. From where I came from, the custom is to bump our fists in solidarity.” She extended her closed fist towards me. “Just don’t bump it too hard,” she winked. I followed suit, letting the back of my fingers touch hers. From that physical contact, I can surmise that she has done manual labor, maybe tilling the fields and growing crops? Or maybe, she has also experienced the horrors of warfare...
“I’m Cass,” I said in a slightly feminine tone. Her expression didn’t change a bit, and I hope it’s a positive sign.
“No family name?” she replied. I must’ve kept my silence enough for her to sense the hesitations I have, as she gestured me to take a pause.
“If you think your legacy will overshadow the friendships you will form here, then feel free not to disclose. That said, your outfit betrays you, you know? You might as well change your clothes before entering the grounds... At ease,” she said.
I have to agree: Why did I wear these clothes again? Maybe I got used to wearing the outfit of a soldier. It’s... easier. I don’t need to think about matching colors, or accessorizing, even what kinds of looks I may get if people saw me. I cannot stand another one of those “critiques…”
It took me some time but I was able to switch to a more... relaxed outfit. Well, as much as I could make my aesthetic “relaxed.” My current garments shall suffice. I went out of the tent pitched conveniently beside the port, and walked with Gael further into the Isle. “Are you nervous, Cass?” she asked, wearing a concerned look. All I can do is nod, hopefully becoming more and more prepared as I integrate with this new life. If this can even be called a “life.”
I entered the Isle’s grounds, and was greeted with many associates and... soon-to-be-associates. Former soldiers who were “granted the highest honors” of being here. Scientists. Brilliant strategists. Not a single diplomat was sent from the Kingdom. From my extensive knowledge, even the Crowans haven’t sent a true diplomat for this year’s Selection of the Scales. The thought of bloodshed became vivid in my mind, like this supposedly “safe space” has become a battlefield. Some of them stopped to greet me with a smile and a wave, some wore looks of surprise, and some... probably knew who I was outside of this place, their sharp looks pierce unto my mind.
Gael must’ve seen the eyes of the people scanning me like I was an immediate threat (and my own scanning of each one of them), as she gestures me to head to where I will be sleeping. “You must be tired, Cass. Go on, let your automatic thoughts ease a bit, and rest. Tonight, we will be discussing the rules of the Isle, the Selection process, and more”, she said, accompanied with a gentle nudge. As I entered my room, I was greeted by a young man, well-built, sporting a casual Aquillean Army outfit. His hazel eyes carry a look that I can only describe as starstruck. He immediately stood up, as if receiving a fellow soldier of a higher rank than him.
“Oh, you must be Cass the Starry-Eyed! We received word from the Aquilleans about your Selection. You must be both confused and exhausted from the voyage. I’m Eli Novos, who once served as a soldier in the Army,” he said, extending a hand for me to shake which I obliged. His hands feel a little bit clammy. “You saved my family during a skirmish from being slaughtered. Your timely intel proved crucial to the evacuation efforts.”
As I break the handshake, I thought of the times when I’ve had some share of these kinds of words in the past. It’s usually coming from my superiors, who showered me with praise; it’s rare for me to receive gratitude from my fellow-people, let alone the common folk...
“How long have you been here, Eli?” I asked as I arrange my belongings to resemble my room back at the barracks.
“I’ve been here for a year, was a participant in the previous season’s Selection. As you can see, I didn’t passed, but I chose to stay here. Now, I am one of the Eagle Guides, leading fellow Aquilleans in their new beginnings here.” He said casually, although he remains standing. I tried to gesture to him to keep it casual since we’re not in an Aquillean military setting anymore, but he remained. Oh, do I still need to speak those two words? Okay...
A simple “At ease” unshackled him out of the sheer formality. “No need to stand on ceremony, Eli.”, I said. Eli said “As you wish.”, and he relaxed and plopped himself unto his assigned bed, raising his arms to the back of his head, exposing his bare arms, well-toned and muscled. It seems that his training back at the Kingdom never faded here.
He must’ve seen where my eyes veering towards, as he let out a chuckle, saying “I’m glad that I’ll get the chance to be a guide for you here, Cass”, which effectively refocused me back into his words.
I asked why he insisted on doing the formal reception for an exile, and his explanation is this: “Whoever you really are, I will receive your company with as much respect as I can give. You saved my family. I am in your debt.”
I felt a small chill down my spine. Whoever you really are... He has surely heard stories of my past... Back then...
“Cassius, why are you in a girl’s garb again? Don’t you feel shame?” I remember my instructor’s shrill voice. I was caught by one of my fellow trainees one free day on the nearby hill (the name of which was kept from me to this day), prancing and enjoying myself uninhibited by norms and customs... Oh, such naivete, never thought that some of the boys will try to find me for ridicule. Mind you, I didn’t do anything to them, kept to myself most of the time. Drowned myself in excellent marks in lessons, in athletics, even in combat. All to escape the harsh reality that I will be played upon just because I see myself differently. But, they feel that it’s also the one thing they can truly pick on to bully me.
At the time I did not get what they mean. I don’t feel any less different nor embarrassed with how I wore those elegant, beautiful robes, and how I let my hair free to flow with the wind. How I looked at the time felt closer to how I see myself: Cassia, the most elegant daughter of my father, Darius.
But that’s just a distant dream now. The instructor forced me to cut my hair shorter. With my own two hands.
“There you are, Cassius. You will be a great man.”
They won that time. Almost countless victories under their belt. I have shed my true self and became Cassius, just as they wanted. I swamped myself in accolades, honors, riches and success... But they see how I look at myself and they deem it so pivotal to my own downfall.
I felt a firm hand on my shoulder, snapping me back to the present. “Cass? Are you okay?” Eli asked. I tried to reach out to his hands, and I felt a sense of caution, but he kept his hand on my shoulder, letting me touch it. It felt comforting, I won’t lie. “Did you remember something from your past? Was it something I said?” he prodded. I turned around and faced him, his eyes spark with concern. I feel no malice, no disdain, not even a trace of shame. But he’s a little guarded. Maybe something happened in his past, as well.
“It’s in the past now, but remembering things still bring the pain from time to time. It will pass, Eli. Thank you for your concern,” I said as I tried to move forward and resume my arranging of my things. He returned to his post, and gestured that he will sleep, not before saying “It’s alright, Cass. Just let it flow from where it came from and let it out of your soul.” That’s... insightful.
Evening has come, and after a sumptuous meal made by the Two Beaks Kitchen Troupe (well, it’s a guild of Aquilleans and Crowans who dedicated themselves to feeding everyone in the Isle), Gael gestured for me and a few more Candidates to follow her into the Sanctum of the Scales, a well-lit temple that houses the Holy Relic itself. “Candidates from the Kingdom of Aquille and the Empire of Croaw... For your first night here in the Isle, I welcome you to the Sanctum. In seven days, I will call upon you all to participate in this season’s Selection of the Scales. It will be a multi-faceted competition between the two factions. Tests of strength, of skill, of courage, even of one’s own inner selves... All of you must be prepared to face one another and oneself. At the end of this Rite, one of each shall be measured by the Scales itself,” Gael spoke with tact and authority. The crowd erupted in their own discussions. She then again spoke, “That is all. Any questions?”
A hand was raised. A young man from the Crowans began to speak. “Will the tests be overseen by you, Gael?”
“Yes and no. To ensure fairness, an Aquillean resident of a similar mettle will be joining me,” Gael said, gesturing towards someone seated at the back. He stood up and walked towards Gael, the light from the fire slowly revealing his figure. He wore so many accolades, with no fear of how much terror it must’ve felt for someone from the Crowans. I can feel that he used to be a general in the Army.
“It is my pleasure to finally meet you, Candidates.” A jolly, cheerful voice spoke. Oh I know him. Very clearly. His gaze met mine, and I felt nothing. Not after what he made me go through. I can see a very vicious sense of self-satisfaction from his eyes... It’s an omen, waiting to rain down on me, again.
“I am Clovis, known back at my former homeland as The Ethos.” What a moniker. He with my father, Darius The Reason, and Evel The Animus (who was erased from the annals, mind you) were the Kingdom’s former formidable trio of master strategists. We were winning the war with their minds aligned. Until they stopped becoming a trio, separating ways.
My father began his tutelage of me, forming me into this instrument of war, until he saw me as his daughter for the first time. Clovis then chose self-exile to the Isle rather than be sentenced to death from a very insidious crime... And Evel... when they became known to the Senate as a woman-facing person... they slaughtered them. How heinous.
How will I proceed from here? A dark blot from my past is now judging me once again. Some people here know of my true past. Can the gods even give me respite?