《Twist of Fate》


 CHAPTER 1

    Death has a way of doing away with all pretense. That is the truth. A truth I did not get the full implications of until it no longer mattered.


    This story is mine, what I lived and witnessed, and I write these words with a heavy hand, burdened by reluctance to proceed, and a heavy heart fearing I might tarnish the memories of some.


    Many of the events and happenings I recount were to never be learned of by unconcerned parties, but I must reveal everything now as it is the only way, the only proof that we existed.


    To understand my motivation, you must embark with me one the story of my life.


    .


    My name is Giovanni Vittore.


    I was born as the first child to my parents who were part of a great family.


    Our family, the Vittore earned its name for numerous accomplishments. However, very few know how much we really did to deserve that title and name.


    I was told that I got my name, Giovanni, from my grandfather, not that it was his name, rather he gave me the name hoping that I would bring god¡¯s favor to the Vittore.


    Grandfather was a very religious person and for some reason my father who was much less religious, agreed to his wish of giving me the name.


    Sometimes, I wonder which god heard his prayer and how they heard that prayer because that might just explain why I can never rest.


    As I was saying we were a family of many accomplishments, all of which we earned from working for the Emperor. If you wonder why few would know of how much we really did, that is because we are a hidden hand, we did everything that was for the best interest of the Emperor first.


    We are the faithful ones, faithful only to the Emperor.


    The family profession involved a lot of things but among others, there was killing. As child of this family I had an education that I now know was very different from what others received.


    One thing is that as the child of this family, the great Vittore family nonetheless, I was exposed to death a very young age.


    It was when I turned five that I had to do my first killing.


    No matter how much of any vocabulary I learn, I struggle to find the right words to describe the feelings of that moment, the feelings of the first time a I took a life.


    Some might consider it odd since my first kill was just a chicken, but I had to hold it in place as I snapped its neck.


    I still remember my small hands, my small legs, the shaking¡­


    I did not get any tools for the task. Not a cutter, or even a stone, just my hands which were so small that they could barely circle the bird¡¯s neck.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


    I grasped at its neck in my hands as the soft feathers slid through my fingers and started squeezing hard.


    The bird started shaking and I struggled to control it when I heard my fathers voice from beside me.


    ¡°Don¡¯t let it go.¡± He said calmly.


    I brought the neck closer to the ground, and as I held it with one hand, I used the other to first bring its wings together before placing my leg on them. I did the same with its legs and the bird finally had less movement.


    But it did not die with just me squeezing its neck so I had to start twisting it continuously in one direction even as it kept struggling beneath me.


    It was unfortunate for both of us that it did not die with one twist.


    This was one of my most difficult moments in life. I was in a dilemma between doing what I thought was expected of me and doing what everything within myself told me to do. I wanted to stop this.


    I remember how it fought harder with each twist, after some time, the spine broke inside its neck.


    The struggles grew even harder from here and my hands trembled. Perhaps my father noticed my desire to let go, because I heard his voice once more. It seemed cold when he said. ¡°Hold it in place.¡±


    The bird¡¯s struggles slowly reduced in frequency, then the occasional spasms and finally¡­ nothing.


    I also remember how I felt after the kill. All the complicated feelings of the moment just left me as I only felt relief, and yet I was not happy.


    I just had this relief that it was finally over and that I had successfully done what was expected of me.


    All the children of house Vittore had to go through this at the age of five without exception, and no matter what your decision was or how far you proceeded in the task, you could not come out unchanged.


    As I stood up and started moving away from the dead animal, I felt a hand on my shoulder that brought a calming feeling to me and I heard my father¡¯s voice. ¡°It should never be easy to take a life, because all lives are important.¡±


    I could not bring myself to ask him why then we had to kill the poor chicken.


    The chicken I had killed was later prepared for me to eat and I could not ignore the fabulous smell that wafted towards me as the plates were brought to the table.


    In this way, at a very young age, killing, to me was associated with excellent reward. Something I did not immediately realize.


    .


    For the next few days, the compound far less lively than it used to be. It was so quiet that you could wonder if everything mourned for what we did.


    Looking back, I think it was to distract us from what we did that for the next months, we had intense study on various topics.


    The children were separated, remaining in their guardians¡¯ homes and tutors cycled the houses daily imparting knowledge on various topics.


    In a few months, I was introduced to arithmetic for counting as well as the lingua and glossa for speaking and writing.


    The lingua was what almost everyone used in the compound and glossa was less common, it was like a language the old people used for secrets.


    I found myself developing an interest in reading. I don¡¯t remember if I was looking for something or if I just wanted to further distract myself.


    I still wondered why if ¡®¡­all lives are important¡¯, did I have to kill the chicken.


    Since I was already a quiet child, it was not apparent that I was struggling with something, and since no one asked I set to find the answer to my own question.


    I turned myself to history. For someone who wanted to read, they just happened to be the books with the most words.


    There was a lot about how the Imperial army conquering territory in the name of the Emperor. This often-meant wars and in these wars, people died in great numbers.


    I came to know about responsibility and duty. That is how after almost half a year of my first kill, the five-year-old that I was concluded that, just like how the soldiers of the Emperor¡¯s army had to kill his enemies because he asked them to, I, Giovanni of the Vittore, had to kill the chicken because it was what was required of me.


    I was told to do it so it was a duty and I had a responsibility to fulfill that duty.


    .


    After some time, the intensity of the lessons progressively reduced and by the time it had been one year since the kill, the children were already meeting again.

 CHAPTER 2

    Looking back, the year I turned five marked the end of innocence. It was also the beginning of a long path that I never could have imagined.


    The years that followed were full of training and learning. There was a lot of moving around as well.


    In the first two months of the year I turned six years old, my study sessions were balanced with stamina training. The stamina training involved running laps around an open field following a training instructor.


    After this, I was moved to another place along with some other children where I went through speed training. This one was not much different from the stamina training in that it was still just about running. But here, we ran much faster for the same duration of the day. All this while, our study sessions were maintained and somewhat balanced with our training.


    Many children could not handle the mental strain added to the physical fatigue but nothing was done about that, and for another two months I got used to this routine. Then there was another sorting.


    Along with a few others, I moved to a place where we trained body movement. The goal of this training as our instructor put it, was to have our bodies respond to what we want the way we want it to. This time, the training focused on acrobatics.


    The third training ground was much bigger than the earlier two and it was separated into two sections, excluding the living space.


    It was much like a city if you did not consider the fact that there was no incoming merchant or nomads but it could barely be noticed since we had almost no time for to be idle amidst the constant training and studying.


    The region that served as living space was a set of five story buildings, which had their basement as a dining space. There was no need for a market or merchants since the only residents were the staff and trainee children, the oldest of them being 10 years old.


    One section of the third training ground had various wooden structures with beams, poles, rope ladders and suspended planks arranged in a parkour, and it was all for acrobatic training.


    The first time I really saw them, I was amazed at the inexplicable beauty. It wasn¡¯t a colorful kind of beauty or aesthetic thing, but just something about it that called out to me. They had a sense of splendor that only spoke to the heart and had me fascinated.


    I couldn¡¯t help but want to face this parkour myself, even more so after witnessing the performance by the seniors prepared for the ¡°new arrivals¡±. The confidence with which they approached the obstacles even as my heart almost stopped when I felt myself in their place, the elegance that came with how swiftly they moved. I was entranced by the whole thing.


    Unfortunately, after showing us the marvelous performance, we were brought to the other section of the training ground and told to face the obstacles separately first. We had to conquer all the obstacles before we could attempt the parkour.This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.


    Many times during our training, we fell down onto the sand which the structures seemed planted into but we kept struggling to conquer the obstacles. My desire to try the parkour kept my motivation to better myself even as I saw the others who arrived with me, some even older than me, slowly relax their efforts to balance between the harsh training the continued lessons on different topics we still had to learn.


    It wasn¡¯t that I was not getting tired or feeling the strain, no, I got tired like everyone else in the beginning but my body seemed to adapt faster to the increased burden each time.


    Thanks to this, with every practice, I became better at facing the obstacles. For climbing the trunk, I went from hugging with all my body, to slowly reducing how much of my body was in contact with it, until I eventually could climb it using my fingers in a grapple and my toes to push myself up. Climbing had become much easier after much effort.


    It was the same for other obstacles as well, I steadily became more proficient in affronting them to the point that I could safely say I had conquered them all.


    I had my chance, I could now face the obstacle course, the parkour.


    I remember being full of anticipation on the day the instructor called me out and said I could move on to the parkour section.


    The obstacle course was still as splendid looking as ever. With the performance of the first day as a reference, I knew how to approach the parkour and the order of the obstacles.


    I had two major issues in the beginning. Firstly, the fact that I could not smoothly transition between the obstacles, and secondly, I was too tired before reaching the end of the parkour. My attempts often looked clumsy and left my tired at the end.


    But I knew what to do and how to do it. So, I kept on trying and pushing myself. It still wasn¡¯t easy but I steadily adapted with every new attempt, I was faster and less clumsy in my transitions and this increased efficiency reduced how tired I was each time.


    Until one day, for the first time since starting the parkour, I completed the obstacle at the end and reached the top most spot.


    Standing at the top, I took in the sight, felt the breeze on my skin and the slight rustle of my clothes following the wind. Standing so high up, I took in a deep breath, and for the first time, I felt a sense of freedom like never before.


    I had never considered myself to be shackled or restrained, I had never even entertained the thought or pondered on the issue but standing up there, whether because of the breeze or the sight, I felt great freedom. The world from up here felt different.


    But then I had to go back down. The end of the obstacle course was not standing up there but sliding down a long rope that extended from the end of the parkour back to the beginning. A distance of 500 meters.


    As soon as I reached down, I wanted to return up there, right at the top. I looked at the place in the distance, but the obstacles that separated us made it clear to me that I could not return immediately. All the muscles in my six-year-old body could not take it anymore.


    Even though I yearned to return, my body lacked the strength. I simply did not have what it took to climb back up.


    This realization gave rise to a new thought and desire. I had not really earned the right to be up there all I wanted. I yearned to be at the top and even though I knew what I had to do to be there, I was not fully qualified. I would strive from then on to be have the qualifications to stand at the spot whenever I wanted.


    I yearned for the sky, and I was going to make it there no matter the effort I needed to put in. I was definitely determined to reach it.

 CHAPTER 3

    When you think about it, for anything that we know in one way or another, experience has always been the best teacher.


    ¡°Giovanni, check on you brother.¡± I set the book I was reading on the table when I heard mother¡¯s soft voice calling out from another room in the house. She always seemed to know when he woke up even before he made a sound.


    My training at the third training ground lasted six months, from the time I arrived until we were sent home, and it had been almost a month since I returned.


    Even without the daily lessons, I was always in books. I always seemed to have more questions and since I did not want to trouble anyone, I turned to books for answers. Lately, I had moved on from reading history books to reading more philosophical books.


    When I came back home from the camp, I found out that I now had a younger brother. The first time I saw him, I felt the need to protect him, that I had to make sure no harm came to him. Since then, I had only grown more attached to him over time.


    I went to my parents¡¯ room an found my brother. The moment he saw me, he started waving his hands excitedly and reaching out for me to pick him up.


    ¡°eauw~ o~ wawawa~¡± He babbled.


    I wrapped his cloth around him and carefully raised the little cherubic boy with practiced movements then gently arranged him into my arms before we moved out of the room.


    He always seemed so happy to see me and for some reason whenever in my arms he tried to touch a part of my face.


    We made our way to the veranda, where I often sat with him, and as usual I tried to think on the things I read but his happy cooing sounds always pulled me out of my thoughts.


    He wanted to play.


    He always seemed so energetic and I wondered whether all babies were like that.


    I arranged his cloth on my legs and started moving his arms around to entertain him. He laughed, making me think he enjoyed it so I continued thinking I found a new game to play with him.


    Then I heard mother¡¯s soft voice from the doorway behind me, to the side. ¡°Won¡¯t you smile for your brother, Giovanni?¡±


    Ah, it¡¯s true¡­ I didn¡¯t smile. Not even when playing with Garios. It made me wonder why this didn¡¯t seem to bother him, and he still played with me with so joyfully.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    It wasn¡¯t a choice to not smile, although I felt a warmth in my heart when I was at home, with my parents and especially with my brother, I did not force myself to smile and it never came as something natural to me, it never seemed to bother any of them either.


    Looking at my brother who was always so happy and energetic, I wondered whether I was different as a child, whether I was more like him, so I asked her.


    ¡°Mother, how was I when I was a child?¡±


    She chuckled softly at that question while moving to us. ¡°What do you mean, when you were a child? What are you now?¡±


    Looking at the confusion on my face, she sat by us and leaned my head on her side, and while caressing my hair she said still with a smile. ¡°You¡¯re still a child Giovanni.¡±


    She did not answer my question, but staying like this wasn¡¯t so bad.


    But I now had another question. If I was like my brother while I was younger, I wonder what made me change to be how I am now, and if I was always the way I am, I wonder why we were so different.


    I probably wouldn¡¯t be getting my answers today, so I just lived the moment.


    The two months I spent at home passed quickly, and as the new year began, I returned to the camp. I felt reluctant to part with everyone at home but I had to leave.


    Back to the third training ground, I slowly readjusted to living away from my brother and my parents while at the same time I continued to excel in my training.


    Time continued to move forward, and without realizing it, it was already the fourth month of the year. There were talks of a new group of students soon coming to join the camp and the way everyone talked about it, even a recluse like myself continuously heard about it.


    The rumors were confirmed when out of nowhere, the main instructor for the parkour section of the camp selected twelve trainees to perform on the parkour for the year¡¯s new arrivals. Being one of the top trainees, I was among those selected for the performance. I was one of the few who could effortlessly navigate the 500-meters obstacle course in around five minutes.


    There was no training and almost no preparation for the performance. As the instructor said, we already knew what to do, we simply had to show the newcomers what we were capable of.


    The only preparation they made was arrange for us to come to the field a little later than usual, and also to make sure no one other than the twelve of us were present in the parkour¡¯s vicinity.


    When the day came, just like those who performed for us the day I first arrived here, we showed a performance for the new arrivals and there was a great audience. The day of the performance also happened to be the only day when everyone was allowed to come to this section of the camp.


    I enjoyed every moment of conquering the obstacles and heading for the ¡°reward¡± that was the top most spot of the course. Each of my movements was done with a practiced swiftness that added a sense of elegance as I moved forward. The obstacle course that had once felt like a chore now felt almost entertaining. In that moment, I was only focused on moving forward and upwards. That was the way of the Vittore.


    Then I reached the top and felt the familiar sense of freedom. No matter how many times I stood up here, I still had that liberating feeling.


    However, like every other time, I had to return back down. I unstrapped the pulley and slid down back to the starting point.


    As I looked back towards the top spot, in a rare moment, I saw a flock of birds pass by and I couldn¡¯t help but wonder how it felt to be up there whenever. How free it was to be a bird.


    I did not notice it but my shadow rippled and almost bubbled at this time.

 CHAPTER 4

    ¡°Arrh~! I¡¯m definitely going to get a good hit in this time,¡± A boy with rough-looking brown hair said as he grumbled.


    ¡°Who do you want to hit so badly?¡± Another boy, also with brown hair and facial features that seemed to have never known a frown, asked in a calm voice with an ever-present smile.


    ¡°The trainer!¡± The first boy shouted as he turned to look at the second. ¡°Every day, all that he does is beat us up and tell us to get past him. Doesn¡¯t that make you mad, huh? What about you, miracle boy?¡± He turned to look in my direction.


    What was I supposed to answer to that? Maybe I took too long, but before I could reply, he continued.


    ¡°You two are annoying. I¡¯ll just get him myself.¡± In his frustration, he increased his pace and separated from us.


    ¡°Let¡¯s catch up,¡± The one with the smile said.


    Four months had passed since I arrived at the fourth training camp. After the performance for the newcomers of the third training ground at the end of the fourth month, I stayed for another month before we were sorted out again.


    One night, a total of 40 children, the top trainees of the third training camp, were moved out in carriages towards the fourth training camp. On the way, the carriages further separated into four contingents and I ended up in the same place as nine others who had performed with me a month earlier.


    The smiling boy is Stillivus. He was the one in the lead during the performance of the day I joined the third training camp last year. He is a calm person who always wears a warm smile on his face. The kind of person who approaches everyone and lets everyone approach him, and who seems to be friends with everyone.


    However. despite his outgoing personality, he rarely grew close to anyone, and his only companion was Boandros, the loudest person around. This made me wonder if Stillivus deliberately chose to befriend Boandros hoping for his high presence to further mask his loneliness.


    When my batch of ten trainees arrived at this fourth training camp, Stillivus extended his welcome to every newcomer but for some reason, he stuck close to me. Perhaps he saw a little of himself in me and thought he could hide me behind Boandros, just like he had hidden himself.


    When I first joined those in the parkour course a few months ago, Stillivus and the other performers were no longer there and it made sense now since at the end of the fifth month of every year, the top trainees of the third training ground moved to the fourth training grounds.


    So, for the past four months since I arrived in this place, every other day, the different groups of trainees were scheduled to try and get past the instructor by any means they could come up with while the others watched.


    The instructor in question was a somewhat burly man, with the characteristic brown hair of the Vittore but he was strong, very strong even. He had a good muscle definition that served as a good intimidation matching his deep voice. He always wore heavy-looking armor with an appearance that only increased the intimidation he gave off.This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.


    There was no fighting style taught or anything of the sort. We had learned acrobatics to have control over our bodies and now, we had to develop the fighting style that suited us as long as our purpose was achieved. With this reasoning, every day the trainees met up at the fighting ground while the instructor stood at a few steps before a line that we had to get past.


    The only rule was not to use anything that would count as a weapon but we had to use anyway we could think of to get past him. The catch was he would beat us to the point of incapacitation, and while we had no wounds on our body, we definitely felt a lot of pain at the end of each session.


    If you could not recover by the day it was your turn to fight the trainer, which was every other day, someone else who was ready would be put into your group to replace you for the fight and if the whole group was not ready, another group would fight in your stead. In this way, from the morning to mid-day when the sun was the highest, several groups would try to fight the trainer while the others just watched.


    The frequency of your group fighting the trainer depended a lot on how quickly you recovered. This also decided which group you belonged to. Friendship was not encouraged but it was not discouraged either. You were either in a group that excelled or kept being dragged down because you wanted to stick together.


    My group formed naturally. I was always the kind to push myself to be the best I could and my body recovered fast enough to accommodate this. Then there was Stillivus who was just excellent. He was already considered the best by everyone and before I came along, the standard of what a prodigy was but my rapid rise made me the miracle. He was three years older than me and unlike me, he did not have continuous rapid promotions.


    Most likely because he was a returning Vittore while I was my grandfather¡¯s first grandson. Grandfather was the current head of the family and I had preferential treatment since I was already so talented.


    A returning Vittore was a child whose parents did not reside in the grand family compound. All the training grounds and houses were part of this compound and your parents had to be out of this place for you to be considered a returning Vittore.


    Boandros was around the same age as Stillivus, but unlike Stillivus and me, he had no special talent and had the normal rise of a hard worker.


    While he was in the first training ground, through hard work he was transferred after his normal six months of stay. He did the same thing at the second training camp and after the normal eight months of training, he moved on to the third training ground where he met Stillivus.


    While Stillivus was held back at the top of the third training ground for the normal three years of duration, he caught up to him and they moved on to the forth training at the same time.


    Most trainees in the different sectors of the fourth camp had around the same fitness level and the same recovery in the beginning. However, the continuous beatings of the trainer made others want to try less and thus increased the gaps in performance. But Boandros never let up. For the past year he stayed in the fourth training camp, he was the only one that continuously matched the level showed by Stillivus, and when I came along, with a mix of talent and effort I quickly caught up to them and therefore joined their team in attacking the instructor. In this way our group of three became a stable team in attacking the instructor every two days.


    Three was an untold standard for the number of teams. Not that anyone told to form that specific number of teams but the more people there were in a team the more heavy-handed the trainer was in quickly reducing their numbers and hence dealing with them.


    If you came alone, well, that was very arrogant and he would take his time beating you thoroughly so that no one else would try that again.


    This only happened once and it was a new trainee who attempted this. The seniors knew what was coming when they saw a single child move forward with bravado towards the trainer, their expressions were clear indication of that, but no one stopped him. The trainer seriously thrashed him for a good five minutes and at the end he could not move even a finger. It took him a good week before we saw him come back.


    Time passed and soon came the tenth month of the year. Everyone returned home with no one having managed to get past the trainer.