“It is better to be hated for what you are than to be loved for what you are not.” - Andre Gide (Autumn Leaves)
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The Imperial Officers Academy, as more than one student quickly realised, was more than just a military institution. It didn’t just teach military tactics, combat, or diplomacy.
The Academy also trained their students in survival skills, and covered a wide range of subjects—culinary arts, music, negotiation, and electives such as healing, craftsmanship, and blacksmithing.
These electives were usually taken by the common-born students, though there are the rare nobles who joined those classes as well. Politics was one of the core subjects, spanning all three years. A student couldn’t graduate or advance to the next year without a passing grade in that class, as failing meant they lacked even a basic understanding of Alathia’s system of governance.
All homeroom teachers of the first years took a certain delight in informing their students that dance lessons were also mandatory, much to the horror of half the boys. As the instructors explained, even soldiers were occasionally required to attend balls or diplomatic functions, and it simply wouldn’t do for them to fumble all over the place.
Horseback riding was another core subject for all students, regardless of gender, as it remained one of the most reliable ways to travel across Alathia’s vast terrain. For soldiers, especially, learning to bond and care for their horse was essential.
“Why do we need to learn how to cook?” Nathan had grumbled during his first Culinary lesson, scowling at the blackened mass in his pot that was supposed to be a stew. Nearby, a group of girls giggled behind their hands. “Don’t soldiers have rations and things like that?”
“And pray tell,” came the dry reply from the third year leading the lesson—Nathan thought his name might be Jaden, “are you going to starve to death on an expedition that leaves you stranded for weeks in the wilderness?” Jaden raised an eyebrow as he jotted something on his clipboard that looked suspiciously like an ‘F’ beside Nathan’s name.
Lessons like Culinary, Music, and Craftsmanship were mostly led by the third years instead of the instructors. It provides graduating students with an opportunity to enhance their academic records ahead of graduation.
“Cooking is a basic survival skill that everyone must learn, noble or commoner,” Jaden told Nathan sternly. “I don’t care if it’s something as simple as grilling a fish over a fire. You learn how to cook, or you starve. It’ll be the height of hilarity if you get done in by an empty stomach instead of an enemy blade. Just imagine the inscription on your headstone: Death by starvation. What would your descendants say?”
Nathan flushed as half his class snickered behind their hands at the sarcasm by their senior, whom Nathan is almost certain might just be part of House Nightray, considering he had the signature dark hair with purple highlights. Though unlike Yuliana Nightray, his eyes were a deep blue instead of silver.
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Then, there were the blacksmithing and maintenance classes, which is another core subject for all first years. Students could later choose to continue them in their second and third years, or drop them altogether.
To everyone’s surprise, Leighton turned out to be especially skilled in this area. He was one of the few who didn’t get chewed out by their bear-like senior the moment the lesson began. Their first task had been to present their belt supply packs, that is an essential for all soldiers and students alike. These packs held critical emergency items: medical supplies, potions, daggers, universal antidotes, and even emergency flares.
Most of Nathan’s class had poorly organised packs, that it was a miracle they could find anything inside them. Some had simply stuffed everything in, taking an eternity to retrieve what they needed. Only a rare few, mostly commoners, had neatly packed kits.
The first few classes they have in blacksmithing and maintenance weren’t ‘Blacksmithing 101’, as Leighton likes to put it, but were instead focused on proper packing and supply organisation—how to arrange everything so you could access it in a crisis without dumping the entire contents on the ground just to find what they want.
“Your supply pack,” Their senior had barked during the first class, not looking all that impressed with how the majority of them had ‘packed’, “is your lifeline. You pack it properly and neatly so that you can get what you need at a moment’s notice. You’ll thank me one day. Trust me, I’ll be checking every lesson, and if it’s not up to my standards by the end of the year, you’ll be repeating the year until I’m satisfied! Don’t think that just because I’m graduating this year, you can get away with it.”
“Bet you wished you listened to Cassian now, huh, Nathan?” Rem had teased with a grin as Nathan grumbled and dumped the contents of his messy pack onto the table, painstakingly repacking everything in the order their senior had demonstrated.
Nathan glared at Rem’s pristine and well-maintained kit. “And how do you know how to do that?” he muttered grumpily.
Rem’s smile faltered. He looked away, pretending to study Leighton’s equally tidy pack. “…Yulia taught me. Long ago. It was one of the first things she ever drilled into me that I didn’t forget.” He hesitated. “I ignored a lot of what she said when we were kids. I wish I hadn’t.”
Nathan wisely didn’t press further. Instead, he focused on trying to figure out how to fit everything into his supply pack. For the first time, he genuinely regretted not paying more attention to Cassian, or even some of House Hunt’s bannermen at Halberd Reach before coming to the Academy.
With the steady rhythm of classes, assignments, and even group projects, Nathan was surprised to realise that nearly two months had passed since they had started at the Academy. One morning, while walking through the central wing of the Academy with Rem and Leighton as usual, he noticed a crowd of excited first years gathered around the bulletin board in the entrance hall.
“Hey, what’s going on?” Nathan blinked, tapping on the shoulder of a boy whom he recognised as one of his classmates. “Some kind of notice? Something happening?”
“Something like that,” The boy said. “The first Debate Hall is coming up. It’ll be this weekend at the Grand Auditorium on Level 5.”
“Debate Hall?” Nathan frowned, looking at Rem and Leighton who both shrugged, looking as perplexed as Nathan is, but were also listening with interest.
“It’s a bi-monthly thing for all years,” The boy explained. “Each cohort has their own. Ours is this weekend. Second years go next weekend, and third years have theirs the weekend after. It’s like a formal forum where students present arguments or findings on topics that they’re passionate about, and others can challenge them. It’s a way to train presentation skills, refine arguments, and encourage debate. If the topic is strong enough, it might even be presented to military commanders or Parliament. It’s not a mandatory class, but almost everyone shows up. You can present anything that’s worth discussing.”
“Huh. Sounds interesting,” Nathan mused thoughtfully, even as the boy moved away. “This weekend, huh?” He murmured. He stepped up to the board to read the notice, checking the date and time. “After dinner… What do you both think?” He asked Leighton and Rem as they continued down the hallway toward their classroom. “Should we go?”
“Sounds interesting. Why not?” Leighton shrugged.
Rem was silent for several moments before nodding. “I think I will,” he said. “It’ll do for good practice for Parliament meetings, and even meetings with military commanders once I graduate.” He admitted. “I might even come up with something to present. He did say any topic.”
Nathan grinned, nudging Rem in the side even as they arrived outside their classroom. He slid the door open with a smirk. “Should be right up your alley, huh, Your Highness? I want to see if anyone can actually out debate you.”
