May 14th, 3030
The gymnasium of the main training facility buzzed with nervous energy as Itus stood next to Lucas, surrounded by their peers in organized rows. Before them, the seven house leaders stood imposingly, their presence a stark reminder of the weight of the days to come. Commander Finch's voice cut through the tension as he paced back and forth, outlining the final days of their training.
"Students," Commander Finch began, his voice carrying across the room, "today, we are again welcoming the House leaders to our training session. Emi Mlakar of the Xictus house. Rolf Sampson of the Akalma house. Odis Ackerman of the Busan house. Nella Tyson of the Outro house. Luz Moore of the Exinade house. Don Morales of the Lutavira house and Marcus Valerian of the Garveil house."
Itus felt a twinge in his chest at the mention of his father's name. He straightened his posture instinctively, even though a part of him wanted to shrink away from his father's gaze.
As Finch continued his speech, Itus found his mind wandering. The last days of official training, he thought. Soon, I'll have to choose a house... or worse, be assigned to one.
The commander's voice snapped him out of his trance, bringing his attention back. "Those who will be having their house assigned to them will find out the day after tomorrow. The rest of you will be able to choose your house in three days' time."
As the students dispersed into their groups, Lucas turned to Itus with a playful salute. Itus managed a weak smile in return before joining his own group of five others. He paired off with his combat partner, whose name escaped him. As they began their combat routine, Itus tried to focus, acutely aware of the house leaders and Commander Finch observing them.
Time seemed to blur as they trained, with occasional interruptions from the leaders offering advice or praise. Itus felt a mix of relief and disappointment that his father hadn't approached him.
As Commander Finch called for a lunch break, Itus started to jog towards Lucas, eager to escape the scrutiny of the training floor. But then he heard it—his father's stern voice cutting through the chatter.
"Valerian."
Itus froze, his heart sinking. He turned to see his father standing behind him, face unreadable. With a sigh, he motioned for Lucas to wait and approached his father.
“Yes, sir," Itus said, unable to keep the weariness from his voice.
“Your work was very sloppy today. While everyone else seems focused, you seem to be off in dreamland and unable to take any of this seriously," Marcus said, his disappointment palpable.
Itus felt a surge of frustration. "I assure you, sir," he replied, "I am taking this very seriously."
His father's frown deepened. "Well, it doesn't seem like it from where I'm standing, and I'm sure the other house leaders would agree. Please get it together because there is a lot at stake here when it comes to your future."
The familiar resentment bubbled up inside Itus. "Is that it?" he asked, his voice tight with barely contained anger.
"Yes, you are dismissed," Marcus replied curtly.
As Itus turned to walk away, he couldn't help but mutter under his breath, “Always the critic.”
“What was that?”
Itus turned back, anger flashing in his eyes. "Nothing, sir," he spat out.
"No, what is it?" Marcus pressed, his own frustration evident.
Itus shook his head and tried to walk away, but Marcus grabbed his arm, pulling him back. Itus struggled to free himself, but his father's grip only tightened.
"Drop the attitude and treat me with respect," Marcus hissed, his voice low and angry. "I'm trying to have a conversation with you."
"Well, I don't want to speak with you," Itus shot back. "I'm just trying to go to lunch, so please, can you let me go? Sir."
Marcus's grip loosened, and Itus wrenched his arm free. He rolled his shoulder, flexing his fingers as if to shake off the lingering sensation of his father's grasp. Drawing himself up to his full height, Itus squared his shoulders and pivoted on his heel in a final attempt to leave.
"I don't know why you always make things so difficult when I'm just trying to help," Marcus said.
Something inside Itus broke. He whirled back, his voice rising with each word. "I'm being difficult? Did you know this is the first time that you've spoken to me since the ceremony? I didn't even see you, and then the first thing you say to me is how I'm such a failure."
"I didn't say that. I was simply saying—"
“And you don't even care," Itus interrupted. "It's like you don't hear a word I say to you."
"That's not true!" Marcus countered, his own voice rising to match his son's.
"And it's no one's fault but my own because I thought this time would be different and let myself get my hopes up. But the joke's on me." The pain in Itus's voice was raw and unmistakable.
Marcus stumbled over his words. "Itus... I... you know... I—"
"Dad, please," Itus whispered, the sudden vulnerability in his voice catching Marcus off guard.
Marcus's stern expression faltered. His eyes widened slightly, and for a brief moment, his rigid posture softened. He opened his mouth as if to speak, then closed it again, swallowing hard. His hand, which had been clenched at his side, uncurled, fingers twitching as if wanting to reach out. But before he could recover his composure or find the right words, Itus had already turned away, leaving Marcus standing alone, his arm half-raised in an aborted gesture.
Itus dragged Lucas behind him until they reached their sleeping quarters. As they walked, Lucas tried to speak to Itus, but Itus ignored him, lost in his own tumultuous thoughts. Once they were in their room, Itus let go of Lucas's arm and stood in the middle of the room, his body tense with pent-up emotion.
"Dude, are you okay?" Lucas asked, concern evident in his voice.
Itus stood quietly for a second before suddenly letting out a primal scream, not knowing what else to do. Lucas caught off guard, paused for a moment before joining in with a scream of his own. Itus turned to face his friend, confusion replacing his anger for a moment. Lucas motioned for Itus to join him, and soon, they were both screaming, the absurdity of the situation finally breaking through Itus's dark mood.
As their screams dissolved into laughter, Itus felt some of the tension leave his body. He laughed so hard that he fell to the ground, gasping for breath. Lucas walked over and stood above him, a mix of amusement and worry on his face.
"I would ask if you are okay again, but I think I got my answer," Lucas said wryly.
Itus chuckled quietly. "I'm just being stupid."
Lucas shook his head. "No, you're not. I mean, I didn't exactly hear what you and your dad were talking about, but I heard what you yelled."
Itus sat up, running a hand over his head. "He didn't really say anything that bad. I think I was already mad at him, and no matter what he said, I would still have gotten upset."
"Even if he said something nice?" Lucas asked, raising an eyebrow.
Itus sighed. "Probably not, but he never says anything nice."
"You got me there," Lucas conceded.
"I don't know why I care so much," Itus admitted.
Lucas nudged him gently. "Well, he is your father, so that might have something to do with it."
Itus chuckled weakly. "Yeah, you're probably right."
"Do you want to talk about it?" Lucas offered.
"No," Itus replied, shaking his head. "There isn't really much to discuss. He thinks I'm a disappointment and gets mad at me. I got mad at him. He tries to apologize but acts like he didn't do anything wrong. I forgive him, and then the cycle repeats—everyday father-son things."
"Maybe you try not forgiving him," Lucas suggested.
Itus scoffed. "Like that would do anything."
"You never know," Lucas shrugged. "And for what it's worth, your dad is wrong. You're great! You're like definitely at the top of the class. Plus, if it makes you feel better, he yells at me too."
"I don't think it does, considering that he kind of doesn't like you," Itus replied, managing a small smile.
Lucas feigned offense before laughing. "Never mind then."
"Thanks for trying to make me feel better," Itus said softly.
"No problem. What are friends for?" Lucas grinned. "Do you want to go to lunch now?"
Itus shook his head. "No, you go ahead. I think I'm going to lie down for a little bit."
"You sure?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just tired all of a sudden."
"Okay," Lucas said, not entirely convinced.
Lucas got up off the floor before helping Itus up. He waved goodbye to Itus before leaving the room, casting one last worried glance at his friend.
As the door closed behind Lucas, Itus felt a wave of exhaustion wash over him. He walked to his bed, laid on his side, and closed his eyes, grateful for the moment of solitude but already dreading the challenges that lay ahead in the afternoon's forest exercise.
Time slipped away as Itus drifted off. Later, he was jolted back to consciousness by the realization that he was late for the forest navigation exercise. Panic surged through him as he rushed to join his peers.
At the edge of the forest, Commander Finch was already addressing the group. Itus slipped in quietly, trying to blend in as if he'd been there all along.
"Remember," Commander Finch was saying, "stick to the designated paths. The forest can be treacherous if you stray. Keep your wits about you and use the skills we've taught you."
As the group began to disperse, Itus scanned the crowd for Lucas, but his friend was nowhere to be seen. Great, he thought. I'm on my own for this one.
The forest loomed before him, a maze of green and shadow. As Itus set off on the path, his father's words from earlier echoed in his mind. He shook his head, trying to clear the memory. Focus, he told himself. You can do this.
But as he trudged through the forest, Itus found his mind wandering again and again to the argument with his father. The trees seemed to close in around him, and he realized with a start that he had fallen behind the group.
"Come on, Itus," he muttered to himself. "Get it together."
He picked up his pace, trying to catch up, but no matter how fast he moved, the others always seemed just out of reach. An hour passed, then another. Frustration and fatigue began to set in.
Why can't I do anything right? he thought bitterly. Maybe Dad was right. Maybe I'm not taking this seriously enough.
Lost in his thoughts, Itus didn't notice the change in terrain. His foot caught on a root, and suddenly he was falling, tumbling down a steep incline he hadn't even seen.
Pain shot through his body as he rolled, branches and rocks scraping against his skin. When he finally came to a stop at the bottom of the ravine, every part of him ached.
Itus attempted to push himself up, but his arms trembled and gave out beneath him. As he lay there, the forest canopy spinning above him, a wave of despair washed over him.
I've really messed up this time, he thought. Dad's going to be so disappointed.
The last thing Itus saw before consciousness slipped away was a shaft of sunlight breaking through the leaves above him. Then, darkness claimed him.
As Itus lay there, injured and unconscious, the forest continued its quiet symphony around him. Birds called out in the distance, leaves rustled in the gentle breeze, and somewhere, far above, his fellow trainees continued their exercise, unaware of his absence.
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