Shattered Sanity

(The Imperial Academy, Chadwick’s POV)

For a while, Chadwick let the students get increasingly excited, as he let the chatters build until eventually it was time for him to talk again.

"Silence...."

He demanded, raising one hand, as quickly the whole hall quietened down.

"That’s not all. Because, apart from all this, we also have three Black Weeks in this academy...."

He began, as the chatter died completely.

"Three times throughout each academic year, you will experience a seven-day period known as Black Week."

The projection behind Chadwick darkened completely.

"During Black Week, many of the ordinary protections governing relations between Houses are suspended."

Several red words appeared.

RAIDS.

ESPIONAGE.

CAPTURE.

RANSOM.

SABOTAGE.

"During those seven days, students may enter designated territories belonging to opposing Houses without permission."

Chadwick began.

"You may steal Academy-issued resources."

A few students stared.

"Sabotage designated facilities."

More expressions changed.

"Capture students belonging to opposing Houses."

Someone near the middle actually laughed in disbelief.

"And yes."

Chadwick said.

"You may hold those students for ransom."

The hall erupted.

"WHAT?"

"He’s joking."

"That can’t be allowed!"

Gary slowly turned towards Riven.

"I think I’m going to enjoy this place."

He muttered, as Riven simply scoffed and shook his head.

"You better pray we end up in the same house, or I promise, I will hold you captive for ransom."

Riven declared boldly, as Gary raised an eyebrow at those words.

"HAHAHAHA!"

He erupted into laughter, as before he could regain his bearing and conjure a response, Chadwick raised both hands demanding silence.

"Settle down."

He instructed, as the hall gradually quietened.

"Black Week does not mean law ceases to exist."

He explained, as several rules appeared behind him.

"Certain Iron Laws remain absolute."

His voice became considerably colder.

"No killing, no deliberate permanent maiming, no sexual violence of any kind, no attacks upon Academy employees, and no removal of captives beyond designated Academy territory."

Chadwick allowed everyone several seconds to read the remaining regulations.

"Break an Iron Law and House competition becomes the least of your concerns."

Nobody laughed at that.

"Academy faculty monitor Black Week continuously. We will not save you because three Sable students ambushed you, tied you to a chair and demanded twenty Merit Seals from Argent for your return."

A few nervous laughs followed.

"Escape."

Chadwick said simply.

"Negotiate your own release. Convince your captors that you’re worth more as an ally. Secretly communicate with your House. Lie to them. Manipulate them. Wait for your friends to rescue you."

His gaze swept across the room.

"But solve your own problem."

The atmosphere had changed completely from when the speech began.

"Some of you may consider these practices barbaric."

Chadwick acknowledged.

"Good."

He nodded.

"Real assassination attempts are considerably worse."

Silence.

"Some of you sitting here will inherit territories containing hundreds of thousands of people. Others will become Imperial officers, ministers, diplomats, generals, governors or perhaps establish noble Houses of your own."

His voice echoed throughout the hall.

"Do you believe your enemies will politely announce themselves before attempting to destroy you?"

Nobody answered.

"Do you believe rival nobles will refuse to steal your trade routes because stealing is unfair?"

Chadwick continued.

"Do you imagine rebellions will wait until you’ve finished studying the appropriate textbook?"

A few students lowered their eyes.

"A noble’s life is not safe."

Chadwick said.

"It was never intended to be."

He stepped away from the podium for the first time.

"You believe you have come here to learn how to become nobles."

Chadwick slowly walked across the stage.

"You are mistaken."

His footsteps echoed through the hall.

"You have come here to prove that you can survive being one."

Even Riven felt something stir inside him at those words.

"We could teach you governance from books and pretend that makes you governors."

Chadwick continued.

"We could teach military strategy upon chalkboards and pretend that makes you commanders. We could explain diplomacy through lectures, resource management through arithmetic and leadership through beautifully written essays."

He stopped at the centre of the stage.

"Instead, we will give you something to govern."

The four House crests appeared behind him once more.

"We will give you limited resources and unlimited wants."

The Argent crest illuminated.

"We will surround you with competitors."

Sable illuminated.

"We will occasionally place your interests directly against those of your friends."

Viridian illuminated.

"And then we will reward those capable of finding a way to prosper regardless."

Aureate illuminated.

"That is the Imperial Academy."

For several seconds, nobody spoke.

Chadwick eventually returned towards the podium.

"Of course, there remains one final tradition you should understand."

A considerably more cheerful smile appeared across his face.

"The Feast of Laurels."

The tension within the room eased slightly.

"At the conclusion of every academic year, the House finishing first in total points receives the honour of hosting the Feast of Laurels."

Images of enormous tables filled with food appeared behind him.

"The finest meals our kitchens can prepare. Music. Entertainment. Awards. Distinguished guests. Recognition before faculty and, occasionally, members of the Imperial Court."

Several students smiled.

"For one evening, the victorious House receives everything."

Chadwick paused.

"And the remaining three Houses serve them, wearing waiter uniforms and washing their dirty dishes afterwards."

The smiles disappeared.

Gary immediately began laughing, while Riven slowly turned towards him.

"Oh, that’s cruel."

Gary whispered delightedly, as Chadwick appeared equally pleased with himself.

"You prideful younglings will be made to carry trays, pour drinks, clean tables and spend the evening watching the House that defeated you celebrate its victory."

Chadwick leaned forward.

"I assure you that after experiencing the Feast of Laurels from the wrong side exactly once, House Points will suddenly become considerably more important to you."

Even Riven could imagine the humiliation.

Being forced to stand beside a table while lesser nobles ate because some other house had defeated his sounded intolerable already.

"And naturally, the victorious House receives first selection during the following year’s Draft."

Chadwick added.

"So your achievements do not disappear when the academic year ends. Victory gives your House the first opportunity to recruit the strongest members of the next generation."

The projection finally faded.

Chadwick returned both hands towards the podium and looked across the hundreds of students sitting before him.

"For three and a half centuries, this institution has produced some of the finest rulers, military commanders, Ascendants, diplomats, ministers, Forgers, scholars and administrators in the history of the Valdrak Empire."

His voice became solemn.

"The names whose portraits you passed while walking through these halls were once sitting exactly where you are."

Riven immediately remembered his father’s younger face hanging within the corridor.

"Some arrived with ambitions, some arrived with arrogance, and some arrived with nothing."

He explained, as his voice took a particularly low pitch.

"But regardless of how they came, by the time the three years were over, they either became a noble capable of ruling over the masses, or became a disgrace banned from ever holding office."

Chadwick said, as he smiled wickedly at those words, before glancing towards Riven in particular.

’Why is he looking at me?’

Riven wondered, as he felt slightly uncomfortable, however, before he could make much of it, Chadwick looked away and continued.

"Fortunately for you all, none of you need worry about graduation today."

A few nervous laughs followed.

"Today, you need only worry about making a sufficiently good impression that somebody actually wants you."

Several students immediately glanced towards one another.

Chadwick smiled.

"Because your first lesson in Imperial Academy politics begins within the hour."

Behind him, the four enormous House crests illuminated simultaneously.

ARGENT.

SABLE.

VIRIDIAN.

AUREATE.

Chadwick spread both arms.

"Young noble aspirants..."

His smile widened.

"Welcome to the House Draft."