Ballad of the Broken

[Chesa]

Cassandra Hope trudged through the streets of the city towards the school house. It was a rainy day, and she could feel the droplets soaking through the fabric of her cloak. Children ran, laughing past her, not minding the weather at all. She smiled to herself, watching the innocence of the young kids race for the school. There steps sent sprays of water that had accumulated on the cobble stone streets.

The city of Elywnn was the largest in the country, and the school one of the best. Separate classes for separate ages, a revolutionary idea that this school was employing by having students from all over the country actually live of the campus. Such an idea that had been taken from the fall of the Xanadarian Empire. Though it was expensive to send their child to such a school, the country was a rich one, and with many royals, nobles, and upper class citizens, the school was not fighting for students.

Cassandra was young to be a professor that the school, but she was more then qualified in her field of history. Most people asked her why she had chosen such a specialty. Why dwell on the past when so many new discoveries were being made in the fields of Science, Math, and literature. All these fields were changing and developing. History was the same boring material over and over again. Cassandra, on the other hand, believed that much could be learned from the past, and that without it, there was little to be done for the future.

As she entered the great halls of the school she let out a sigh, glad to be out of the rain. The lanterns that lit the halls flickered, reflecting off the great glass windows.The young teacher paused for a moment, looking at her reflection in the mirror. "I'm still the spitting image of mother," She muttered, lightly touching her cheek. She laughed a little and made her way to her classroom, being greeted by the students who stood on her entry. "Good morning professor," They said, speaking in unison, a ritual that was done by the students in all grades and all classes.

Cassandra smiled to the class. "Good morning," She responded, motioning for the students to take their seats again. She hung her cloak on the rack and turned up the gas on the the lanterns, making the room a bit brighter on the dreary, rainy day.

"Today we're going to study the destruction of the Springfield Institute and it's importance to the fall of the empire," She said, turning her back to the class and jotting it down on the chalk board behind her. The students took out their small textbooks and opened up note books. "Professor, what does a school have to do with the fall of an empire?" One of the students asked. She was a young girl, with thick red curls and a face covered in freckles. She was fourteen years old, the youngest in the group of upper students, but she was far from the least intelligent.

"The Springfield institute and it's students were the key to the strength of the empire. They may not have been large in number, but the students were by far the best trained in all of this world," She said. One of the kids scoffed. A young nobleman with stringy black hair, pulled back at the base of his neck. Another one of the students that caught her eyes due to his snide tone and unwillingness to accept the facts that anyone presented him. "How could a bunch of kids do anything to help a power house like that?" He asked.

Cassandra frowned a little. "The empire used strict discipline and absolute rules to harden the students, if you can call them that, and use their own fear and instincts to live to force these young men and women to do unspeakable and unbelievable deeds," She explained. "Seems like a utter nonsense," The boy grumbled. The girl next to him elbowed him in the stomach, shushing him.

"What was so bad about the institute?" Another student asked, sitting next to the little red head. Cassandra wrote something else on the board. The words 'three rules'. "The Springfield institute taught under three major rules. One, put their students in constant fear of death, purposely forcing them into threatening situations against their peers. This was called the rule of survival. Kill or be killed.

She underlined the that rule. "The second rule was the rule of punishment. Students were made to receive the strictest punishment in return for the smallest infractions. Skipping class meant death in most cases," She said, tapping the second rule on the board with her chalk. "The teachers and administraters were gods, so even if the students had the power to rebel, they were too scared to," She explained.

"The third rule, and the most important to it's down fall, was policy of 'breaking' students. By emotionally breaking them, they turned into perfect killing machines, with no feelings or remorse. By enforcing these three simple rules, they administration of the institute produced the most powerful warriors in an rapid fashion," She explained, turning to face her students.

They all looked bored, or tired. Cassandra frowned a little. This was such an important matter, and the students didn't seem to care at all. She let out a heavy sigh. "Now the teachers of the school were the best resource of the school. Some of them have reputations that I'm sure even your young selves have heard of," She said, scribbling a few names under the rules. "Ashirum, Nata, Kimsdale, and Thia," She said, turning to the class. "Does any one recognize any of these names?" She asked, trying to get a little bit out of them.

The red heads hand shot into the air. "Yes Elizabeth?" Cassandra asked. "Nata, didn't he recently pass away? His picture was in the paper, he was a teacher at the institute?" She asked. Cassandra nodded. "Yes he was. Nata was the latest of the four names. He himself had started as a student, and managed to work his way up through the ranks of the students, to the number one student amongst the top ten. Now the top ten were a group of elite students, and the only way to enter into this group, was to yourself kill one of the others. Their training was rigorous and there rules even stricter, but they had more missions, less school, and better rooms," She explained.

"Now Nata was by far one of the cruelest teachers at the school," She said, looking about the students. She'd caught Elizabeth's attention. She let out a small sigh. "There will be a quiz on this," She warned, tapping another name. "Kimsdale and Ashirum were the Springfield brothers who founded the school. They were the dukes of Klinkston in the norther part of Xandar. The Springfield family were renowned soldiers, and had fighting styles that had been the best in the country. The Emperor though wasn't happy with just that, and had ordered the founding of a school to create mass armies of these great warriors under the Springfield method."

"Where did the school get it's students though, were they emperial children?" The boy Next to Elizabeth questioned. Cassandra shook her head. "No, absolutely not. They had a strict policy against using their own. At first most of the students were Catlians, but then as the empire started to expand and their raids grew, they'd take any children they found, though there were rules about the ages of the child. The children all had to be between the ages of 0-3. Any children over, were killed," She said, her voice dropping a little. She shook her head. "When the institute started breaking their own rules, everything started to fall apart. When they accepted a little boy and girl who were older then they normally allowed. Celeste, who was 7, and Kiske, who was 9-"

She was about to continue, before the bell rand throughout the school for the students to go to their next classes.Cassandra sighed, looking at everything she had written on the board. As the students filed past her, she gently touched the names of the two students on the board.

[Chesa]

Elizabet Rotson was one of the most intelligent students at the school. She had come from the far end of the country to study at the school, money being far from an issue in her family. The Rotson family was known for the scholars, and the young girl was to be next in the long line. Like the rest of her family, she shared and unquenchable thirst for knowledge, and questions about the Empire had suddenly plagued her.

The fall of the empire had happened six years prior to her birth, so by the time her mind had developed it was already history. She had little chance to ask questions about it, and because of the long standing hatred between the Xandarian Empire and her country of Tirithia that when the empire had fallen to them, very little had been spoken about it's strong points.

Elizabeth wasn't satisfied with that. She yearned to know more, more about this Institute that her teacher seemed so passionate about. The bell had rung before she had even gotten started, and she was left with nothing but two names. Kiske and Celeste...

She was pondering to herself as she moved through the throngs of students in the halls. "Hey! Hey Liz!" She turned around to see her best friend, Legume, running towards her. He was a short kid with an outrageous amount of curly brown hair. He never was very graceful, and he stumbled towards her. She caught him before he fell flat on his face. She smiled brightly at him. "Hello Legume," she said. the young man smiled back at her. "Hey I was wondering, if you wanted to spend our study period together?" He asked. "Well I was going to go to the library during study period, " She said, clutching her books to her chest as they walked.y

A small frown grew on Legume's face. "Why are you going there?" He asked, trotting after her to keep up with her brisk, determined pace. "Do you remember that school that Professor Hope mentioned during her lecture? Well, it got me curious, and then she mentioned two people and the bell rang before we had a chance to find out more. I want to know why she got so upset when Christopher acted like the school was no big deal," She said, turning down the corridor to the library.

"You are too obsessed with knowing things..." He muttered. The way he saw it she only wanted to learn more for the sake of knowing more then others, like she took pride in just being better. He let out a small huff of defeat and forsook his free period to stay with his friend. "Do you mind if I come with you?" He asked. The young girl grinned. Not at all," She said.

The library itself was the largest one in the nation. Books, records, newspapers, everything. The library wasn't just for the schools benefit, but the first to be open to the public as well. The room smelt of dust, and the dark wood cast a stoic feel on the room. towering french windows normally helped light up the room, but on such a dark, rainy day it was necessary for the lanterns to be lit on the walls, as well as the desks were many sat and red.

Students and civilians alike sat amongst the maze of book shelves, in chairs or sitting at desks. Elizabeth made her way through the shelves to the large desk in the center. There were several men and woman, tending to damaged books and helping those find what they were looking for. Elizabeth took an open spot near the edge, and waved to catch the attention of the librarian.

The tall woman, maybe in her late fifties, shuffled over to the pair, patting down a wrinkle in her full dress as she did. "Yes, what can I do for you?" She asked in a clipped, down to business tone. Legume was a bit unerved by her tone, but nothing seemed to rattle Elizabeth when she was on a mission. "Yes please, can you show us where to find anything on the Springfield institute?" She asked. The librarian closed the book with a quick thud. "Those accounts are in the restricted zone," She said. "You must have permission to view them," She informed them, about to turn away. "We have permission from Professor Hope," Elizabeth chimed in quickly. The librarian fixed her eyes on the two. "Really now, Professor Cassandra Hope?" She asked. Legume looked over at Elizabeth, sweating a bit, then nodded quickly. He wasn't one to lie, not matter what for. His young counterpart on the other hand didn't bat an eye. "Is there another professor Hope in the school?" She asked innocently. The librarian adjusted her glasses and excited the circular desk. "Follow me."

Elizabeth's mind was racing with anticipation as they were led to the back of the library. A small mesh gate sealed off the room from the rest of the library, the librarian using a fat brass key to open in. "Be quick about it, and check in with me before leaving," She said, going back to her station.

"You lied!" Legume urged when the woman was out of ear shot. "Oh shush, knowledge shouldn't be restricted," She said, browsing the shelves of the books. "Lets see....Springfield.....Springfield..." She started browsing the books.

Legume's eyes though immediately caught sight of a book. "Nata Amole?" He asked, grabbing a small book out of it. "Isn't that one of the men Professor hope mentioned in her lecture?" He asked, holding out the book to her. "What is it?" She asked, taking it carefully. The binding was frayed and the leather faded. Pages were loose and some out all together. She slowly opened it and glanced at the pages. "It's a diary..." She said, flipping through it until she noticed a name she need, the name of a young girl by the name of Celeste.

[Chesa]

*~*
Today was a day like every other, as usual more children were brought, crying and screaming, barely even three years old, some even too young to walk by themselves. All I could do is just stand and wait, watching as the nurses take the little ones away to calm them. It was how these days went. I supervised, but what’s more was they were paraded in front of me, and I knew that from the twenty or so there, that a mere two would make it to see their thirteenth birthday. Though, amongst the mass of little children I noticed someone out of place.

A girl, I think about seven years of age, but it wasn’t just her age that set her apart. She wasn’t scared, shaking or crying like the rest. She was standing there, staring out into space as if she were asleep with her eyes cracked open. I addressed the soldiers, asking as to why they took someone so much older than the 'age limit' that was given to them. No children over the age of three. That was how the rule had been for nearly a century and it had never been broken. The soldier looked at me ready to defend his choice for his commission. “Yah shoulda seen ‘er sir!” he insisted. “We found ‘er locked in a shed. Up ta ‘er ankles in blood she was, just sitting there like she were broke or something!” He just about shouted at me. His loud and fairly obnoxious way of speaking upset the children that were there and they started to fidget and cry. The nurses panicked to hush them.

I had argued that we could not take her, for is she well above the age limit. “There is a reason we only take children under the age of three, I’m sure it goes above your mind’s ability to comprehend,” I said, but the soldier just grew angrier. “Take ‘er or not, I’m leavin ‘er here!” He shouted. I couldn't reason with that walking tree stump, so in the end, I was forced to call Ms. Thia, the ‘principal’ of this institute. Usually I would rather avoid confrontation with her. That woman’s greed only brings about problems, but this was one of those times when I could do nothing else. I sent off the young man who was in the room to go fetch her, and I told the soldier that he needed to bite his tongue when she entered. Ms. Thia was ferrous and known to jump when she wasn’t in a cool mind.

The clack of shoes proceeding down the hall could be none other than the principal herself. The woman was deathly pale, the color of a person who had been left in the snow for days on end. Her eyes seemed void of any color, and her hair was so blond that when the light shown, it appeared white. The woman was tall, lanky, and almost sickly thin, and with her at all times she carried a book. It was a heavy, leather bound book, in which all the goings on of the school were recorded. The lives of 472 students laid in that book.

When she saw the girl, she seemed to see something in her. She crouched down in front of the child, examining her. I wasn’t sure quite what her response would be. The child was small for her age, covered head to toe in dried, crusted blood. “She seems in good health,” Ms. Thia commented, I supposed talking to me. She seized her chin, tilting her head this way and that. The girl let her head fall with her grasp like a broken doll. “What is your name?” She asked. The girl just stared at her vacantly with no answer. Ms. Thia huffed a little. She had a tendency to grow impatient with children who did not fit the mental standard she wished them to, even if their time at the school was only in the minutes. “What is your opinion Nata?” She asked, looking up at me. I paused, pondering the girls fate. “Well,” I said, pausing for a moment. “These next few weeks will be crucial, but I believe we have caught her in time. If we can. . . . mold her, I do believe that we will be able to make her the best student this school has ever seen,” I said. With this she nodded. The woman had always taken my word with great consideration, which did at times confuse me, but not enough to spend hours pondering it.

I was about to leave, as Ms. Thia was paying the man for the girl, and the nurses were taking those who had been accepted into the back rooms of the nursery, but I did not get a chance to make it far before she waved for me to halt. “Nata, I think that this case would best be handled by your ‘special’ instruction,” She said. I tried to suppress a grown, for I was but a teacher, and making such a complaint was not my place. I could see where her reasoning came from. The child was unresponsive to her surroundings and we didn’t know if she was mentally stable. Putting her with the nurses would be like welcoming a costly slaughter if she were to be actually dangerous, but I was old, and did not wish to care for the child, but in the end my opinion was forfeit, and I found myself bringing the child to my room.