The Academy: Making of a Ruler (The Eagle King's Academy Book 1)

by C. C. Monö

  Axel swam back and forth under the water enjoying the spectacular view of colourful fish and sea horses. If only Mikael could have seen this.

  Exhausted, they crawled out of the water and collapsed into a few sun chairs around the pool. They lay there until Paul grew bored and dragged them down to the E.K.A. restaurant for dinner and drinks at the bar.

  To Axel’s astonishment, he felt excited when he returned to his apartment later that night. It had been a remarkable day. The other students were smart, well-educated, and attentive. They were all ambitious and driven, and not the Napoleon wannabes he’d feared. Maybe Mikael was right. Perhaps the chosen students were here because they wanted to help the world, not rule it.

  On Sunday morning, Axel called his mother. She was happy to hear his voice and kept him on the phone for half an hour, careful not to discuss anything related to the Academy.

  Next, Axel called Mikael.

  “I wish you were here,” Axel confessed. “I’m experiencing all these amazing things and I can’t share it with you. It’s so frustrating.”

  “Tell me about it.” Mikael sighed. “I’m dying to know everything there is to know. Have you met the teachers yet?”

  “I’m not sure if I can tell you that.”

  “Really?” There was a moment of frustrated silence. “This is silly,” Mikael stated with irritation. “Did you know I had to sign three different confidentiality agreements with the Academy?”

  Axel smiled to himself. “My parents had to do the same.”

  “So in theory,” Mikael continued, “should you happen to tell me things about the Academy, I wouldn’t tell anyone because I’m not allowed to talk about such things.”

  There was a faint click followed by complete silence.

  “Micke?”

  No answer.

  “Micke, you there?”

  Nothing.

  Axel waited a little longer but Mikael didn’t return. With a bad feeling in his gut, Axel hung up.

  A few seconds later, his phone buzzed with an incoming text.

  “Security Warning: Today at 9:43, security blocked your call with Mr Mikael Andersson due to the risk of breached contract. According to Security contract SA1.9, you may not disclose any information about the Academy to people outside the E.K.A. For more information, contact the E.K.A. Security Team.”

  CHAPTER 23

  Axel read the message for the third time. He hadn’t actually said anything to Mikael that could be considered a breach of contract, had he? This text message was just a way for the Academy to let him know they were keeping an eye on him. After a few minutes of wavering, he decided to give Mikael another call.

  He apologised for the abrupt termination of their previous call but didn’t give any explanation as to why it had happened. He then spent about half an hour talking about this and that until he felt there was nothing left to say. When Axel hung up he realised that keeping everything a secret from his family and best friend wouldn’t be as easy as he’d hoped.

  Later, while searching the bookshelves for something to read, his phone buzzed again.

  “Dear Mr Hallman,

  Report to Madame Garon on the 14th floor ASAP.

  Kind regards,

  The E.K.A. reception.”

  Fearing that this had something to do with his conversation with Mikael, he hurried up to the fourteenth floor. A man, no older than Axel, was waiting for him outside the elevators. There was something feminine about the way he held himself.

  “Please come with me, Mr Hallman,” the man said with a soft voice. “Madame Garon is waiting for you at the spa.”

  “Spa?” Axel echoed confused. “So Madame Garon isn’t part of the security team?”

  The young man let out a sound that could have been a cough, but was most likely a muffled laugh.

  “No, sir. Madame Antoinette Garon is the head of our exquisite E.K.A. Spa and Salon Centre.” He threw Axel an amused glance. “She is quite famous, you know.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yes. She’s related to the Monaco royal family.”

  “I see.”

  Axel’s lack of enthusiasm for the topic killed the discussion and he was led the rest of the way in silence.

  The E.K.A Spa and Salon Centre resided in a beautiful, Asian-inspired room with rose petals on the floor, burning candles, and a scent of incense so overwhelming it was almost hard to breath.

  It turned out Madame Garon was a petit, extravagant woman in her late forties. Even with her high-heel shoes she barely reached Axel’s shoulders. Fascinated, he peered at her copper-red hair, pulled back in a complex hairdo that must have taken hours to do. Who would spend hours on a hairdo?

  His thought was interrupted by a loud “humph”, and behind the thick layer of colourful make-up, a pair of dark eyes blinked.

  “Bonjour, Monsieur Hallman.” There was a distinct French accent in the almost childish, nasal voice. “Are you ready?”

  Without waiting for a reply, she made a sloppy hand gesture resulting in five glamorous assistants rushing forward.

  “Non!” Madame Garon barked as Axel moved back. “Stand still.” He obeyed and the assistants began circling him like vultures around a carcass. Madame Garon advanced, her eyes scanning him from top to bottom. “First impression is everything, Monsieur Hallman,” she explained. “You must radiate confidence like the sun in the Sahara, and glow like a full moon at night.” She stopped and let out a dramatic sigh. “But to make that happen, you must stand still.”

  “Oh, sorry.”

  Axel snapped to attention while the peculiar woman started to make her way around him.

  “Bon. There is potential,” Madame Garon declared after a while. “You are not a hopeless case, but this way –” she waved her hand in front of his face “– you are boring. We need to do magic.” She tugged his hair. “I want a lighter colour, Ileana; something that draws focus to his grey eyes. I want people to become hypnotized when they see him. Understand?”

  “Yes, Madame Garon. How about ash blond?”

  “Très bien. And Stephan, I want a more stylish haircut. This –” she grimaced and yanked Axel’s hair “– is what schoolboys wear. I want something that brings out the man in him. You know what I mean. And please, trim his eyebrows. Right now they remind me of the Amazon jungle.” Madame Garon paused, tapping a finger against her red lips. “Now his skin isn’t too bad. I think a classic facial will do, don’t you agree, Mario?”

  “Si, Madame Garon. What about the manicure? Should we…”

  “I think you look good,” Izabella said later that day. “That hair colour suits you.”

  She, Axel, Thabo and Paul had left the Academy to explore Bois de la Cambre, a public park situated near Avenue Louise. On this Sunday afternoon, the large park was full of people, from aged couples walking their dogs to groups of people out for a jog.

  The students were treading along a human-made lake where geese and ducks bobbed around like feathered buoys in the cold water. Axel ran a hand through his hair. He’d barely recognised himself after returning from Madame Garon. His hair was short and blond; his skin tanned and smooth. His teeth were so white they could blind you, and the eyebrows perfectly shaped.

  “Thanks,” he said, and moved to the side as they passed a couple with a stroller. “You too. What happened to your glasses?”

  “Madame Garon gave me contacts. She said I don’t have a face for spectacles.”

  “What the heck does that mean?” Paul wondered out loud. His hair was now short and a little darker than before. Similar to Axel, his teeth were whiter and his skin seemed polished in the light of the winter sun.

  Izabella shrugged and shoved her hands in her coat pocket.

  “Who knows?”

  “I don’t like Madame Garon,” Thabo concluded with a low growl as he gazed out over the little lake. “I told her this was unacceptable. I’m a Zulu prince. We don’t do make-overs.”

  “Still, you got your head shaved,” Axel gr
inned.

  “That’s acceptable. Zulu warriors can have their heads shaved.”

  “Do Zulu warriors also have their nails polished?” Izabella asked with a titter.

  Thabo glared down at his hands.

  “Madame Garon is not a nice person, but she can be very convincing.”

  CHAPTER 24

  TWELVE YEARS EARLIER

  “What’s this?” Sarah asked, as the waiter handed her a pineapple cup drink with a straw and a tiny umbrella.

  Lorena threw aside her newspaper and sat up in her sun chair.

  “Ah, that’s the alcohol,” she said with a grin, accepting her own drink from the silent waiter. “The first step in my elaborate plan to erase that gloomy face of yours.”

  Sarah tittered and began stirring her drink with the straw while admiring the gigantic pool around them. It was an amazing creation with narrow canals, wide openings, and great waterfalls. Curved bridges made of dark wood connected the small islands, where beach umbrellas and comfortable sitting arrangements were nestled in among the palm trees.

  Some distance away, a few of the students enjoyed themselves in the water, making a lot of noise in their attempt to impress one another. They’re no different from the young men and women in her village, she reflected; richer, but the same, nonetheless.

  Sarah took a sip of her drink, enjoying the sweet, cool liquid as it ran down her throat. Once in the classrooms, however, it was a different matter. Then they’d all pretended to be kings and queens. Sarah didn’t appreciate people who pretended to be something they weren’t.

  “So? What do you think?” Lorena asked and nodded towards the drink.

  “It’s very refreshing, but strong.”

  “I bet it is. It’s called a Bahama Mama, believe it or not.”

  Sarah found herself giggling.

  “You’re crazy.”

  “Nah, on the contrary, actually, I’m pretty damn smart.” Lorena paused. “I know, for example, that you mustn’t let them get to you,” she continued, her voice growing serious. “They don’t know you and, until they do, they’ll treat you as an inferior human being. You have to prove them wrong. You have to show them that you’re smart and won’t take any of their crap.”

  “That’s not how it should be. We should be helping each other, not competing against one another.”

  Lorena threw her head back and laughed.

  “Are you kidding me? If that’s what you expect, then you’ll be mighty disappointed, my friend,” she said, shaking her head. “People aren’t very bright, you know. It doesn’t matter if they’re rich or poor, black or white, educated or illiterate; they’re about as smart as a daft monkey on heroin. Do you think I became lieutenant colonel in the Spanish armed forces because people wanted me to succeed? Hell no! People were doing everything they could to ensure that I failed. Although we were there to learn how to fight together, they still didn’t want me there.”

  “Why?”

  “It appears male soldiers still don’t like the idea of being led by a woman. For some reason they think it belittles them; as if it makes their dicks smaller or something. No, I had to fight my way up, every bit of the way, until they realised they couldn’t break me. That’s when I gained their respect.”

  Sarah chewed on her straw and watched the other students goof around in the water.

  “That’s a depressing view of the world,” she said after a while. “I don’t think people are stupid, but I admit I don’t understand why they work against each other instead of collaborating.”

  “Oh, that’s simple, it’s survival of the fittest. Everyone wants to be at the top.”

  For some reason, and Sarah had no idea why, her heart told her that Lorena was wrong.

  “It just doesn’t make any sense,” she said while her fingers played with her straw. “It takes a lot of energy to fight and compete against others; energy that could be used for better things.”

  “I told you,” Lorena said, grinning, “people aren’t very smart.”

  “So isn’t true leadership about helping people work together?”

  “God, you’re philosophical.” Lorena laughed. “Of course it’s about helping people, and yeah, we want people to perform together.”

  “Then why aren’t we talking about anything but power and follower obedience? When will we study collaboration?”

  “Collaboration happens when followers feel that we’re in control of the situation,” Lorena said, and leaned back with a yawn. “Anyway, we’re getting off the subject. My point is that the others are well educated and knowledgeable in the ways of the world. If you want them to respect you, you have to prove yourself.”

  A warm breeze swept over the little island. Above them the palm trees swayed, allowing the sun to peek through the leaves. Sarah closed her eyes and felt the warm rays tickle her skin. Lorena and the other students were smart, but they had a very naïve perspective of the world.

  “Have you lived on the streets or been disowned by your parents?” Sarah asked, keeping her voice as gentle as possible, in order not to come across as provocative.

  “No.”

  “Have you held a child whose mother just died of AIDS?”

  Lorena shook her head.

  “Have you seen the sorrow in the eyes of a teenage mother who abandons her child because she knows there’s no way she can support that child?”

  “No.”

  “Ah, but I have. So have many other people. The world they live in is very different from yours, and they could argue that it is you who is not knowledgeable in the ways of the world. There are more poor people in the world than rich.”

  “You know,” Lorena said, after a long silence, “I think I finally know why the Academy chose you.”

  CHAPTER 25

  PRESENT MOMENT

  She saw the kick coming and ducked. Using her momentum, Nicole swept her right foot along the floor in a wide circle towards his leg. Wú jumped, looking like a raven at flight in his black Kung Fu uniform and outstretched arms. He cleared her leg without difficulty.

  Nicole was up in an instant as Wú advanced, his hands a blur of fury. Nicole blocked, ducked, and defended herself the best she could. Then she saw an opening, and quick as a striking cobra, she moved in, aiming for his ribs. To her frustration, the sinewy man slipped out of reach.

  “Too obvious,” he said and fell back into a cat stance. “Try again.”

  Nicole crouched before bolting forward. She did her best to hit him, but Wú was moving like the wind. No matter what she did, he seemed to know what was coming.

  “Too sloppy,” he concluded after blocking one of her wrist strikes. “You can do better.”

  Nicole grimaced and attacked again. Without a word, they fought. Wú was quick to change the game from defence to attack. Soon he was forcing her back, making her retreat towards one of the stone walls. Desperate to get away, Nicole ducked to the left and tried a round kick. Wú caught her leg mid-air.

  “Too slow, Ms Swan. Focus!”

  He pushed her leg away from him, spinning her into a dragon stance. With a growl, Nicole advanced again. This time she did better, forcing Wú to retreat a few steps until she tried to get him with a sidekick. She missed, thereby exposing her chest. With a smooth motion, Wú stepped in and snapped the back of his fist against her shoulder.

  “Throat,” he informed, thereby indicating where he would have hit her, had they been in a real fight. “Too slow, too obvious, and too sloppy. You are better than this.”

  “Yes, Master Wú,” Nicole replied, panting heavily while rolling her aching shoulder. Tomorrow, it would be black and blue. Not that she’d complain. Master Lì Wú was a phenomenal teacher. For the past eight years, they’d trained together, either early in the morning or late at night. Of course, Nicole was neither a guard nor a Watcher, and she didn’t report to Mr Nakata. In fact, there was no reason for her to train, other than that of personal enjoyment. Moreover, there was no reason for Master Wú to train her. He
did it out of kindness, and, for this, she adored the man.

  “You’re not focusing,” Wú continued and nodded towards the corner of the dojo where she’d left her things on a wooden bench. “You have too much on your mind; things that bother you.”

  How does he do that, Nicole wondered as the two of them left the training mat. How can he learn so much from watching me fight?

  “I’ve been working a lot,” she said, wiping her face with the towel she’d grabbed from the bench. “And I haven’t slept much the last couple of days.”

  Wú smiled.

  “You always work hard, Ms Swan, and lack of sleep has never bothered you before.”

  Nicole laughed.

  “Maybe I’m growing old.”

  Wú snorted.

  “You’ll never improve if you try to find excuses for your failure.” He sat down on the bench, his hands resting in his lap. “How are the new students?” he asked.

  Nicole eyed him before taking a seat beside him. Unlike the rest of the E.K.A. building, the guards training facilities were simple, just large open spaces with training gear and equipment. The dojo was no exception, a small window-less room with black walls and wooden floor. There was a large training mat in the middle of the room and along the walls stood simple wooden benches, like the one they were sitting on. It was this simplicity that she appreciated. Even luxury becomes routine after a while.

  “You’ve never asked me about the students before, Master Wú.”

  “There has never been any reason to,” her trainer replied, his Chinese accent evident in every word. “Your mind is distracted. It was not distracted four days ago, so I assume it’s connected to the new students.”

  “I wouldn’t say…”

  Wú raised his arm, cutting her off.

  “It doesn’t matter, Ms Swan, but if you want to improve, you must learn to empty your mind before we train. You cannot demand that your mind learns Kung Fu while it worries about other things. You have to focus.”

  He fell silent, allowing Nicole to consider his words. It was Axel, or rather her feelings for him, that occupied her mind. She’d read his profile so many times she knew most of it by heart. He’d started Talk Thirteen out of kindness, not with the intent of making money or becoming famous. Nor had he studied any leadership prior to E.K.A., which indicated he wasn’t interested in power. Nicole had always found kind and grounded men attractive, and Axel had it all; a kind heart, handsome face, and a dry humour that she loved. He was, quite frankly, a unique student.