When I opened my eyes, I expected to see the dull beige ceiling of my apartment, maybe the glow of my dusty gaming monitor. What I got instead was a wooden roof, the creaking of wheels, and a cold wind that seeped through thick military canvas.
"...Unit Twelve, make sure your tags are visible. Names are stripped at the Wall. You're Ash now. Got it?"
I blinked. My head felt like it had been split open and glued back together wrong. Across from me sat three others, dressed in rough leather gear and winter cloaks. A fourth—our squad leader—stood at the front of the wagon, barking orders with all the warmth of a glacier.
Ash?
It took a second. No, not just a second. A *lifelong* second. Because I wasn't Jake Miller anymore.
I was Leo Venus.
And somehow, I'd landed inside the body of the least impressive noble in the history of the Empire's most powerful magical family.
Leo, the talentless third son. Leo, the class clown. Leo, who could barely summon sparks in a family of fire-wielding prodigies.
Apparently, the Empire had a tradition: during winter break, every student at the Royal Academy was assigned a temporary military post for "experience and unity." Even nobles.
Hence, the name changes. Ash, Thorn, Flint, Wren... names meant to make us equal. Names to survive by.
And I was Ash now.
---
The Western Wall wasn't a single structure. It was a desolate chain of stone outposts stretching across the Empire's frigid borderlands. The kind of place you sent soldiers to make them stronger—or to make them disappear.
We arrived at Fort Vargis at dawn. Snow-covered battlements, howling winds, and a lot of grim-faced veterans who looked like they hadn't laughed since birth.
Our squad—Unit Twelve—was introduced quickly.
Sergeant Kellan, codename Thorn. A serious man with a scar running from temple to chin.
Tessa, codename Wren. A fire-user with a constant scowl and sharper tongue.
Darnel, codename Flint. Stocky, wind-aligned, and way too cheerful for someone stationed in a frozen hellhole.
And Mina, codename Lark. Healer. Small, deadly, and allergic to incompetence.
Then there was me. Ash. Technically still a noble, but that meant nothing out here.
Especially since I had no magic.
---
The first week was brutal.
We woke before dawn, trained until dusk, and collapsed into our cots with muscles screaming. Thorn made it clear: this wasn't a summer camp. It was survival.
Running laps in armor. Carrying packs through snowfields. Sparring until you bled.
I hated every second.
But I kept going.
Maybe it was Jake's body inside Leo. Maybe it was spite. Maybe it was the first time anyone actually expected *something* from me. Not as a noble. Not as a joke.
Just as Ash.
---
Training didn't just mean swinging swords and dodging snowballs.
Flint taught me how to track in the snow—how to tell the difference between animal prints and monster signs.
Wren grudgingly showed me how to hold a stance that didn't make her cringe.
Even Lark tossed me a spare healing crystal and muttered, "Try not to die. You're heavier than you look."
We weren't friends. Not yet.
But when we sat around the campfire eating hard bread and soup, I started to feel... something.
Something warm.
Something real.
---
Then came the first patrol.
Nothing dramatic. Just a sweep of nearby woods to check for signs of activity. Standard procedure.
We moved in formation. Thorn at point, Lark behind. Wren covered the rear with Flint, while I—still green as spring leaves—stayed center.
And yet... something stirred.
A rustle in the snow. A shimmer of eyes in the dark.
Thorn signaled us to stop.
Out of the trees came a low-slung, furred beast with tusks and six legs. A frost-tusk boar.
Not dangerous on its own.
Unless you were unarmed, slow, or stupid.
I wasn't any of those—not anymore.
When it charged, I moved.
Not with magic. Just instinct.
I rolled left, grabbed a branch, and jabbed it into the beast's side.
It squealed, turned, and before it could recover, Flint sent a blast of wind that knocked it off balance. Wren followed with a quick fireburst. Down it went.
And me?
I stood there, panting, surprised I was still alive.
Thorn gave a grunt that might have been approval.
---
Back at camp, Flint clapped me on the back.
"Not bad, Ash. Next time, try not to trip on your own feet before stabbing something, yeah?"
I smiled. My legs were still shaking, but something in me had shifted.
Maybe I wasn't a noble. Maybe I wasn't even a mage.
But I was learning.
And for the first time in two lives... I wanted to be strong.