Apparently algebra is hard. So are biology and chemistry, and physics isn’t that simple either. I can do enough maths to count whether all my fingers and toes are still on, which is all a king’s guard needs.
I also don’t pay a lot of attention to politics, or the news. Both are frowned on at the academy. The King’s Guard aren’t supposed to be political. They’re—we’re—supposed to serve the king without question. I hear things when I am out and about, though. Most of them indicate that things are bad and getting worse.
I think about this stuff as I stand naked in the middle of my little room. It must be maintained to military standards, so it has a cot bed with two starched sheets and one starched pillow and a blanket that’s so scratchy it’s often easier for me to take my wolf form and just curl up on the bed rather than sleep inside it.
They don’t know how much time I spend taking solace in my animal self. It’s frowned upon to do it publicly, but when I am alone, I like to melt into my simpler brain. I sleep better. My appetite is better. The academy meals actually seem tasty. And I don’t feel as lonely.
But I’m done with being a wolf for now. Now I’m turning my attention to appropriate attire for a city visit. We’re allowed to have a certain amount of street clothing, and I’ve pushed that limit the same way I push all the limits. It’s pretty impressive given the fact that I have no money.
I look out my window, checking out the guard configurations for the day. They like to switch them up, but I can always tell. The academy has a pulse, and I know it as well as I know any part of my body. This place formed me.
My window overlooks the rear of the grounds. Basically, the academy is a big square building with a courtyard in the middle. There’s the main tower at the front middle, then four other erections at each corner. A center courtyard is where most of the training takes place. From where I am, I can see guards walking the parapets, as well as down on the ground at the gates. It’s a light number, which makes sense. Nobody has attacked the academy since I’ve been here. The guards working now are students who are practicing for one day walking in circles at the palace.
The academy is located at the edge of the city, near the royal palace, in an area where people can’t afford to live unless they’re very powerful and corrupt. It’s a little weird, growing up as a glorified servant amid this much wealth.
That’s another thing I can’t say out loud. The kids who sign up for the King’s Guard believe in it fervently. They take pride in their training and their service. They bow when they pass the king’s portrait. There’s one hanging in this room, though I’ve slung a bra over his face. I don’t like the way he looks at me.
They have several different portraits of the king around the place. There’s the coronation one, which is the most common one. Then there’s the green one, where he’s wearing green, and the red one… again, another thing I can’t say is that I don’t care for them. Any of them. I think it’s weird to have someone’s face plastered everywhere, even if your whole life is technically dedicated to protecting and serving them.
Most of the guys in the academy are going to take some rank in the King’s Guard. Some of them will be grunts, but others will be his own personal attendants. It’s all very prestigious and exciting for everybody. I’m over it. I don’t have the same kind of purpose they do. Sometimes the director of the academy, Madame Kier, makes some reference to me becoming an instructor when I’m older, but I’m widely regarded as such a bad influence that’d never fly.
By now I’m dressed and ready to go. But it’s not just a matter of walking out the front door. I’m not sure I’ve actually used the front door in years. Do I still know how to use a door? Better not risk it, and go out the window. Windows are just doors wearing see-through clothes, if you ask me. I wrote an essay on that once. Got detention, but it was worth it.
I’m not allowed in the city at all really, not without special permission, but it’s sort of an open secret that I sneak out. Can’t change the rules; that would make them look weak, and it would mean they couldn’t enforce them when they decided they felt like it after all.
Sometimes, when you’re dealing with an institution that is all about rules, people get used to the rules being broken regularly and looking the other way. There are rules that are real rules, and rules that are more like guidelines, and other rules that only exist when someone needs them to.
The official reason I’m not allowed in the city without a leave slip is because it’s not safe. According to the director and general faculty of the academy, Eclipse City is a hive of scum, villainy, and street vendors who are harder and more dangerous than either of the previous two groups.
Also, I haven’t been given a leave slip in years, because I keep sneaking out. Chicken or egg? Anyway, I don’t care. I know dozens of ways out of the academy, and I find more every time they patch one of the exploits I’ve found. Sometimes I think they tolerate me because I’m a one-woman security assessment.
I slip down from my window, shimmy down brickwork, drains, ledges, gargoyles, and other bits and pieces that people inevitably attach to buildings. Then I drop the ten feet or so to the ground and roll into a bush that they should really get rid of. I’ve always wondered why people plant out secure areas. You need to be able to see what’s going on. I’d bring it up with the faculty, but that would just make my life harder.
I crawl out from the hole under the wall. It’s a tight fit, but I make it out. The back of the academy faces onto the river that runs through Eclipse. The Avon River is big and polluted and contains a unique ecosystem of fish that you absolutely should never eat. But it is useful for floating things down, so there are always boats and sometimes people paddling around. Or floating face down, if it’s a particularly bad day. Which it often is.
In spite of all the many reasons not to do what I’m doing, I’m not afraid of anything in the city. That’s because I’m a hero.
Nobody knows it yet, but it’s just a matter of time until they do.
I’ve always had that feeling that I was special. Some people say I’m just weird because I’m basically an orphan who was raised in an institution that wasn’t set up for it so I’ve never been parented and therefore have a contentious relationship with authority, but special is easier and quicker to spell.
Now that I’m out of the academy proper, I head into the city. It’s quite a bit of a walk, because I don’t intend to spend the littlecash I have on a ride service. My legs work just fine. Plus it’s not like I am in a hurry. I’ve got the whole day to myself.
I sneak down the river a ways, moving through what remains of the rushes, and then into the city proper. I go up fire stairs and onto the roofs of the nearby buildings. I have to be careful here, because there’s a lot of academy surveillance around. The more I move away from the castle and the academy and into the more commercial areas of town, the safer I feel.
I like to think I blend in with the locals in a way most academy students don’t. A lot of the time they go in wearing their uniforms, because they’re proud of them. And half the time, even if they’re in casual dress, you can still pick them out a mile away because of their short haircuts.
My hair hasn’t been cut short; it sits asymmetrically around shoulder length. They let me get away with that because I can tie it up. Because I’ve been sneaking into the city since I was about seven years old, I’ve developed a sense of style, kind of a mish-mash of various street trends. I don’t want to be too easily identifiable as one thing or another. I also want to be able to get away quickly if I need to, and I need something that hides my weapons.
That means I’m wearing tactical pants, which are not uncommon in Eclipse. Everybody here needs a lot of pockets, including some long enough to put an entire bottle of wine in. Ask me how I know.
I’m also wearing an oversized jacket with a hood that extends far enough out to hide my face from surveillance drones and hardwired cameras. Eclipse City rule #1: Don’t Look Up.
Unless you want to be immediately fed into a network of machines and databases that will track your every move, of course.
My favorite thing to do in the city is steal. That sounds bad, but everybody does it, and it’s pretty much a pastime at this point. Nile drones deliver cargo throughout Eclipse. If they don’t get to their delivery target on time, or at all, the customer gets a full refund and a re-delivery. So people don’t even mind when the drones are attacked.
The Nile Corporation minds quite a lot, of course. That’s why their delivery drones are now always flanked with armored offensive drones.
