A young boy stood in a training field, no older than the age of eight. He held a wooden sword in his hands as he gazed at the pure blue summer sky. His eyes bounced from cloud to cloud. When he saw one that had a funny shape, he chuckled. The boy had not a care in the world until he was struck hard in his left arm. He screamed in pain as tears welled up in his eyes.
"Ouch," he said in a soft voice, rubbing his bruised arm. "You're a jerk, bro. Why the heck did you do that?"
The boy's attention jumped from the clouds above to his bruised arm, to the young man standing across from him. The young man shared the boy's black-colored hair, but instead of being wild and spiky, his was slick and wavy. It was pulled into a ponytail; the beautiful black hair fell down his back. The young man smiled at his little brother as he leaned on his own wooden sword, snickering.
"I did it because you weren't paying attention, Zacky boy."
The constant laughing frustrated the young Zack. He ran after his brother, flinging his wooden sword. His brother smiled, pretending to run away, but he laughed uncontrollably as he did. The young Zack caught up to his brother, smacking him across the back and butt. His brother laughed even harder. Eventually, Zack's anger was replaced with joy. He started to crack a smile and started laughing like his brother. Zack then dropped the wooden sword and started tickling his brother, both smiling and laughing on a beautiful summer day.
But the moment they shared would be interrupted when they heard a loud voice being yelled at them. Both brothers snapped to attention, shooting straight, feet aligned like little soldiers. They stood facing where the voice came from, as they saw a large man stepping off a porch and walking towards them. The man was wearing a military uniform colored black, but he had removed his jacket, and his white collared shirt's top button was unbuttoned. The man was large, even to an average-sized man he was big, but to the boys, he was a giant. His hair was black as theirs, falling down his back like Zack's brother, but unlike the two, he had a long black beard.
The man stepped closer to the boys. Zack held his head down in shame a little, as his brother was flabbergasted.
"Shit, he's three days early. Dads supposed to be overseas," he thought.
The man, in no time, was inches from the boys. He towered over them. Both were nervous, knowing they were in trouble.
"What are you two doing?" the man asked in a deep gruff voice.
Zack didn't respond, only holding his head lower. So, the brave one had to be his older brother. He looked up at the man, trying to force a smile as he said, "Um… training… sir."
He tried to make a joke, tried to lighten the mood, but from the look on the man's face, he saw that he was not amused.
"Training, you say. It looks like to me you were horsing around while you should have been training."
Both boys held their head down in shame, unable to look at the man. They couldn't protest or defend themselves, so the one who did was their mother.
"Dear, don't be so hard on them," the woman said.
The large man turned slightly, facing the woman. She was exiting a house as she stepped onto the porch, rubbing her hand on her apron.
"The boys have been training for hours, for days now, ever since you've been gone. There's nothing wrong with them having a little fun."
"You baby these boys too much, Ruby. They do not have any time to waste, for they're going to be soldiers in the Gardenia army, so every second matters."
The wife's face was frustrated, but the man remained steadfast, until he heard a small, soft voice coming from one of his sons.
"Momma… is right… we have been training… training real hard."
The man looked back down at the boys, looking at his son Zack, who had just spoken, yet still held his head down in shame.
"Well then, if you've really been training as hard as you say, then show me."
Then the man turned and walked back towards the porch. The boys, still standing as they were, they didn't move till the man commanded, "Show me."
Then they quickly grabbed their wooden swords, got to their positions, and stood across from each other with their swords at the ready. The boys stood there, just looking at each other. They were waiting. Then, when enough time had passed, the man shouted. His voice was basically the sound of the starting bell. Both boys charged at one another. Zack swung, but his brother parried the hit, then struck Zack in the arm. The young boy winced in pain but swung at his brother again, aiming for his head. But he pulled back, dodging the strike, then thrusting his wooden sword into Zack's chest, the boy stumbled, gripping his chest. But he pushed through the pain and continued on. And this is how it went: Zack trying to attack, his brother either blocking, dodging, or parrying that attack, then getting in one of his own with more power to it. Eventually, the young Zack fell to the ground, defeated. His older brother's eyes softened as he saw his baby brother crumbled on the ground.
When he fell, his mother, who was also watching the sparring match, tried to run to the aide of her child, but she was stopped by her husband. He held his arm out in front of her, preventing the mother from going to her son. The man looked at the display in front of him, then yelled, "Get up, Zackery, get up!"
The man yelled. His son squirmed a little as he did. "I said get up, Zackery Truesdale, get up!" The man's voice echoed in Zack's mind. And at that moment, his eyes shot open, but he wasn't a child anymore, nor was he outside under the blue summer sky. No, he was back where he was during the second phase of the exam, as hordes of applicants were around him, fighting for everything they had.
It took Zack's ears a moment to adjust; they were muffled when he opened his eyes. He then heard the screaming and yelling coming from all around him. As he sat there, slumped to the ground, he realized, "Damn, I fell asleep," he thought to himself as he gazed at the three armbands he had grasped in his hands. "Right, I only have 25 points and less than five minutes left."
With the voice of his father still ringing in his head, commanding him to get up, unlike that day, on this day, Zack did get back to his feet. As he tucked the armbands in his pocket, he grabbed his weapon and started walking in a random direction. As he did, he thought, "The stupid old man, why the hell did I have a dream about that?"
Elsewhere in the exam was Jake. He was hobbling as fast as he could through the crowd. Every step he took was hard on his knees; his legs felt as if he was placing them into a furnace. He wanted to just lay down; he was so tired for some reason, but he couldn't do so. He needed just 9 points, and he'd pass, so he kept pushing forward, with a small bit of determination burning alongside his body.
Jake started to pick up speed, moving from hobbling like an old person to slightly jogging like an athletic old person. Applicants were being cut down left and right as Jake ran, but he didn't stop to fight their attacker. As he would look around, the ones that were defeated had white armbands; some had blue, but Jake needed a red or higher.
The young man knew he didn't have multiple fights left in him; he only had enough gas in the tank for maybe one more, so he had to use it on someone who could give him the rest of the points he needed. As he kept running, his eyes caught sight of a red armband. Seeing this, he stopped the boy in his tracks. He smirked for a moment, but the smirk would disappear as he saw who that armband was connected to.
A couple of feet away stood a massive, muscular figure, fighting off all that attacked them. They wielded a large, bladed mace as their rental weapon, swinging it back and forth, back and forth, like a wrecking ball tearing through an abandoned city. As the figure grabbed an applicant by the face, they threw them as if they were a baseball. As they turned around, at this, Jake got a good look at the applicant that had the red armband he needed.
They were wearing armor, hoplite armor, like one you would see in an old gladiator flick. It covered their torso; they had armor on their legs, but none covered their arms or their head. They wore sandals. Jake could see them clearly because they were stepping on a poor applicant that was trying to crawl away. The applicant's hair was as long and flowing as horsehair. They laughed triumphantly as they fought. As they laughed in this battle, Jake got a good look at their face.
The applicant was a woman. What Jake saw before him, tearing through other applicants like toilet paper, was a big, muscular woman, a warrior woman who had the 10 points Jake needed. His mouth almost hit the floor. "Oh, you got to be kidding me," he thought. "There's no way, there's no freaking way I can…"
Jake knew it was impossible; he barely defeated the sun and moon brothers. Now he had to fight a giant woman to get his hundred points. "No way," he thought again. He started to look around, trying to find an alternative, but he didn't. And as he turned back, looking at the woman, she was now looking back at him, and Jake's blood went cold.
The woman defeated each and every applicant she faced, now looking for a new opponent or rather a new victim, her eyes happening to land on Jake. She looked at him the way a predator would look at prey. With less than five minutes left and with 9 more points needed, Jake said out loud, "Ah, fuck me."