Kente had never been to this part of the city before. The towering structures that surrounded him were nothing like the modest buildings he was used to. As he made his way through the unfamiliar streets, he couldn't help but marvel at the grandeur of everything. The roads were wide and well-paved, flanked by tall, proud trees, their thick trunks creating a shadow that cooled the air. In the distance, the outline of the academy's gate loomed, far larger than any entrance Kente had seen before.
As he approached, the sheer size of the gate took him aback. It was immense, standing like a silent guardian, its metal bars gleaming in the midday sun. The gate was adorned with intricate carvings, depicting scenes of ancient battles and protective juju rituals. Kente's heart raced. This was no ordinary place—it was as if the very gate was a testament to the power and prestige of the academy inside.
He took a deep breath and stepped forward, his feet echoing on the stone path that led up to the entrance. The gate, flanked by two towering statues, felt almost alive, as if they were watching him, judging his every move. As he passed under its archway, he couldn't shake the feeling of entering a realm far beyond his own.
The sounds of the city faded into silence as he crossed into the academy's grounds. The air was thicker here, filled with an odd mixture of anticipation and tension. The buildings surrounding him were nothing short of magnificent—ancient stone structures, with ivy creeping up their sides, blending seamlessly with the modern touches of glass and steel.
As Kente reached the entrance to the hall, he greeted the receptionist with a quick nod, handing over the paper in his hand. She smiled, handed him a form, and gestured toward the doors. "Go straight in. The exam is about to begin."
Inside, the hall was already filled with students, the air buzzing with anticipation. Kente scanned the room, noting that the space could hold up to a thousand candidates. He quickly found an empty seat, slinging his bag onto the floor and settling into the chair. He took a deep breath. I came just on time, he thought, glancing around at the nervous faces of his fellow students.
After a few moments of uneasy silence, an examiner standing at the front cleared his throat. "You may begin," he announced.
Kente glanced up. Several figures dressed in button-up white suits entered the hall. They were eerily motionless, standing at attention beside each desk, facing forward. Kente furrowed his brow. Are they watching for cheaters? He didn't give it much thought. Instead, his eyes turned to the paper in front of him.
The questions were simple, mostly about the kingdom and general knowledge that every aspiring student should know. History and current events—nothing too difficult for Kente. As he scribbled answers, his mind wandered briefly, and then it hit him: he was impersonating Uche. How far could this get me? It felt odd, but necessary.
Time passed in a blur as he worked, filling out the paper with as much detail as he could.
But then, something strange happened. Out of the corner of his eye, Kente noticed the student seated next to him shaking. Foam began to froth at his mouth, his body twitching uncontrollably. Kente's heart raced. He quickly turned toward the examiner seated near him.
"Hey, what's happening?" Kente shouted, panic rising in his chest. "Why are these people fainting? Somebody do something!"
The examiner didn't respond. Kente leaned forward, trying to grab his attention. "Hey, look at that kid! He's going to die! Help him!" He shouted.
But instead of helping, the examiner stood motionless. And then—bam—Kente was hit hard in the face. He stumbled back, landing flat on the floor, stunned.
He sat up quickly, confusion spreading across his face. The room around him had descended into chaos. Other students were convulsing, foaming at the mouth, and twitching uncontrollably. The sight was enough to send chills down his spine.
"This... this is like a scene from hell," Kente muttered under his breath. What's going on? He had to do something. He ran toward the front, hoping to find answers or at least someone willing to help. Along the way, he noticed a few students who appeared unaffected, standing in the midst of the madness, as calm as ever.
One of them, a large, nervous boy, approached Kente. "Do you know what's happening?" he asked, eyes wide with fear.
Kente shook his head. "No idea."
The boy, Tamara Mellon, nervously shoved his hand into his pocket, his face pale. He began chewing on some dry food, muttering to himself. "I didn't sign up for this. Maybe... maybe they want to use us for some kind of ritual. Man, I didn't sign up for this." He chewed faster, his eyes darting around the room.
Kente frowned. He didn't like the sound of that.
As they moved forward, another student caught Kente's eye. This boy, with a sharp, almost arrogant expression on his face, sat unmoving in the chaos. His calm demeanor stood in stark contrast to the panic surrounding them.
"Hey, you!" Kente called, his voice demanding attention. "Care to tell me what you know about this exam? You're just sitting there with that smug look on your face."
The boy turned his cold gaze toward Kente. "All of you are fools," he said with a sneer. "You didn't even learn anything about the exams before coming here. It's all just a scene, a test. If this is what passes for a competition, then the bar to enter Almass Academy has dropped significantly."
Kente felt a wave of frustration wash over him. A test? This place, with all these unconscious people, is part of the exam? His mind raced as he tried to make sense of the situation.
Before he could process further, another examiner entered the hall. She glanced over at Kente and the others standing at the front. "Those of you who are unaffected, step forward," she said.
The students exchanged bewildered looks before stepping forward, each one as confused as the next. There were eight of them.
The examiner smiled faintly. "Much better than last time," she muttered, almost to herself. Then she addressed them directly. "Congratulations. You have passed this part of the test. Follow me."
Kente was still reeling from the events that had just transpired. As they followed the examiner down a narrow corridor, he couldn't help but ask, "Are they going to be alright?"
The examiner, whose long, woven hair was clipped back with a shiny ornament, turned to him. "Yes, they will recover soon," she said calmly. "Those who couldn't withstand the aura from the examiners failed. This test is the minimum requirement to be a Sturmgard."
"Sturmgard?" Kente repeated, trying to process the information.
"Yes," she replied, her voice taking on a more serious tone. "A Sturmgard is a protector of South Volstadtin. Our region—Old Brass—is one of the four regions. The others are Mount Brass, Wota Watini, and Ananci. Each region's contribution to the capital is determined by the number of Sturmgards it has."
She paused before continuing. "Our region is rich in minerals, and for centuries, we've been trying to prevent infighting that has destabilized the area. By having a certain number of Sturmgards, we can ensure resources are allocated accordingly and prevent conflict."
Kente nodded, absorbing the information.
Miss Wolo continued, "The destructive power of juju is not something to be taken lightly. It's something that must be controlled and used to protect the region and foster its growth. This method was agreed upon by all the regions hundreds of years ago."
Kente's eyes widened. So this isn't a game. This is serious. He glanced around at the other seven students—each of them a potential candidate for a Sturmgard.
He caught sight of the boy with the sharp features—the one who had spoken so confidently earlier. Kente didn't know it yet, but that boy would prove to be a key rival in the trials ahead.
"Remember," Miss Wolo said, turning back to them. "You are representing your region. Old Brass. You will soon understand the weight of your responsibility. This is just the beginning."