Ruby Fridays

Chapter 41: Courtyard's Haste

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N O W P L A Y I N G

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───── ❝ R U B Y F R I D A Y ' S P O V ❞ ────

║ Gregorian Calendar ║ 01 - 22 - 2027 ║

║ Friday║ Olympia's Cup 1st Training Day║

The courtyard fills up with students from the different houses, their chatter and laughter grating on my nerves. Each one of their words drips and seemed to be filled with both anticipation and expectation. 

But that's not the case for me. Buzzing with activity as students milled about, I stand alone, separate from the crowd, dreading the start of training for the Olympia's Cup. Every muscle in my body tenses at the thought of the rigorous exercises and drills that lie ahead. I have no desire to face the brutal challenges designed to weed out the weak from the competition. 

Damn this, but honestly... I would rather retreat to the shadows than join the throng of hopefuls vying for a chance for winning.

I watch as they pair off, chattering excitedly about tactics and glory. But to me, their eagerness feels misplaced, and naïve. For me, it feels as though they don't yet understand the brutal realities of the competition, where only the most ruthless succeed.

For the first time as I studied their expressions, it felt as if they're not widely aware that winning requires a dark willingness to crush opponents without mercy, to inflict pain without remorse. Their eyes displays that compassion is a weakness, and hesitation means defeat. And though, the rules of the game may claim honor and fairness, true victory just goes to those who embrace the most underhanded tactics, the cruelest of strategies. 

Yet above all, I knew better — glory awaits not for the deserving, but for the ruthless.

But, just like any other game day in this hell school, I tried to whisk away my observations for the students around me in a while, and instead, I tried to push down the dread rising in my stomach as I scanned the crowd for my house's teammates — my fellow Stonemaskers. 

Few seconds just passed as I rolled my orbs in the broad daylight, but as if my eyes are helping me this time, without any haste, I spotted them in a tight circle, already strategizing. I longed to join them but could not bring myself to step into the sunlight as something felt wrong this time, an ominous air hung over the proceedings. The sky seemed darker than usual, the chattering of students sounded more like crows cawing, and the Stonemaskers' circle felt less like teammates and more like cult members preparing for a ritual.

While the other house — the Wanderlusters, seemed exuded confidence, laughing and joking without a care. But I saw the calculating looks they gave each other, the sly grins and subtle gestures. They were sizing each other up, plotting moves before the competition had even begun.