“Viktorija Kazlauskas,” Duron shouted as Etienne Atspoguļo walked out of the exam room with a smug smile on his face. A small badge and necklace in his hand, a necklace that would bear his name and Soldat identification number. The badge had the Nestanha Village symbol on it, a snowflake with sharp points.
Etienne looked at her with narrowed eyes and Viktorija only rolled her eyes, he was the so called ‘prodigy’ of her generation. Of her class, but Viktorija had heard rumours from returning Soldat that the true prodigies lived in Sashan and wasn’t part of the Atspoguļo Clan.
Lancelot Atspoguļo had been a prodigy and Etienne was a poor shadow of the man his older brother had been. Sighing, she stood up and ignored the looks from her follow ‘classmates’, she was used to it and she didn’t care what they thought about her.
Viktorija only looked at Duron as she entered the room, the woman she didn’t know and Lasalle had always given her the creeps. She stood in front of them, she had to wait for them to tell her what she needed to do to pass the final part of her Soldat tests, this would be the elemental and general techniques part of her exams.
“Viktorija, transformation technique,” Duron told her. “Transform yourself into myself, Lasalle or Heloise.”
Viktorija knew that none of the three expected much from her, she was fourth from the bottom of the class. She had passed enough to stay in the Academy, but compared to the rest of her year, she wasn’t seen as the smartest and she was fine with that.
“Transform,” Viktorija whispered before transforming into a perfect copy of Duron, letting the transformation go, she looked at her teacher as he wrote down notes. Both Lasalle and Heloise didn’t look happy about her ability to pull it off.
“Replacement technique,” Duron requested.
Viktorija nodded her head before swapping places with Lasalle, she didn’t want to show off and they were the closet things near her. It was better if everyone thought she would be dead by the end of the year at most.
Dark violet eyes just looked at the man on the floor; bored before he was back in the chair and she was once against standing in front of them. The replacement and transformation techniques were basic, the ones she used the most. Using it time and time again to get away from the villages Soldat and Garde.
This was the third time she had taken this test, before she had taken it at the ages of eight and ten, but they always made her do the one technique she could never perfect. No matter how hard she tried, she didn’t have the chakra control for it.
She just wanted to leave the Academy, since none of the teachers like her and she could say; that the feeling was completely mutual on her end.
“Now, Viktorija, you must create three perfect clones and you’ll pass your Soldat exams,” Duron told her.
“Of course,” Viktorija told him before making three shadow clones, what many didn’t know was that there were two Shadow Clones. One a complete illusion and easy to spot, but the other one was completely solid. “Did I pass.”
Duron nodded as he looked at the clip board in front of them, her results from the last three days of their exams. Lasalle and Heloise just glared at her, like they were disappointed that she had been able to make clones at all.
“Take a badge and necklace,” Duron told her. “And the day you get placed into a team, your teacher will have them engraved.”
Viktorija nodded before taking a badge and a sliver necklace. Leaving the room, she started making her way out of the building. She looked at the edge of her bright coloured crimson top, even as she pinned her bridge to the sleeve and her long flowing black shirt.
The first thing she was going to do, was change her clothing. A pair of black pants and a black shirt would work for her new carrier. She wouldn’t stay in the Soldat unit, no, her aim was to eventually get into the Espionner or Chasee Units.
Viktorija knew that wearing something she could trip over wasn’t smart, nor would it do if she could killed because of the colour of her shirt. She knew that she would be dangerous the moment she wore darker colours, her hair was brown and didn’t stand out much against the dark.
“I did it, Mama,” Viktorija whispered to herself as she left the walked down the streets to her empty apartment building. Something pulling at her heart as she saw her follow peers talk to their parents, all of them so proud of their results. “Now I’ll show them the might of the Kazlauskas Clan, the Clan of the forgotten mountains.”
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