Rise as a Ghost
934 Words
The soldier ranks in Kael's pack were more than titles. They were earned through grit, strength, and spirit. Every newcomer started as a Trainee, a position of nothingness. No room, no respect, and definitely no name. Only those who climbed had the right to be called something more.
Arya, still hidden behind a false name and a new face, was no exception.
The Rank Order:
1. Trainee
2. Scout
3. Warrior
4. Lieutenant
5. Captain
6. Commander
7. General
8. Elite General
9. Beta (only one at a time)
10. Alpha (unreachable-except by challenge)
Arya started at the bottom. Trainees were given dull, wooden weapons, and thrown into mock battles that were more about humiliation than learning. Most days she was ignored, but that suited her. The less attention, the better.
She trained early in the morning when no one watched, drilling herself relentlessly-muscle memory from her past life kicking in. Quiet strength began to seep into her movements.
A month passed before she was promoted to Scout after taking down a senior Trainee in a routine spar. Scouts were given minor patrol duties, often sent to the outskirts for supply watch or border alerts. Arya used the time to memorize the terrain and observe the ranks above her.
Her first real test came when a group of warriors challenged her after she blocked one of their pranks with a move too precise for a Scout. They accused her of being arrogant. She said nothing. Just stood her ground.
The match was set. One versus three. In front of a crowd.
She didn't hold back.
It took her three minutes.
Bloodied and bruised, her opponents limped off. And Arya was immediately promoted to Warrior.
From there, she drew attention. Some mocked her size. Some called her lucky. But most started watching. Especially Lucas, the Beta-in-training, who had sparred with her once and found himself smiling afterward-a rare thing.
Even the Gamma, Mira, was watching now. Her suspicions hadn't faded.
A Warrior typically took months-sometimes years-to become Lieutenant. Arya did it in three weeks. She challenged a Lieutenant during a field test. The Lieutenant laughed-until she was flat on her back, winded, in front of half the patrol unit.
Now her presence stirred discomfort. A soldier rising this fast was either gifted or hiding something.
The day Arya challenged a Captain, whispers turned into gasps.
The Captain-a seasoned fighter named Dren-was well-liked and proud. He fought to humiliate her. She fought to win.
Their fight lasted longer. But Arya's patience and skill told. A sharp throw, a feint, and Dren was on his knees. She offered him a hand up. He spat on the ground instead. She didn't flinch.
Commander came next, after a joint mission against border rogues. Arya led a small group when their actual commander fell in the ambush. Her instincts kicked in-quick calls, silent signals, and not a single life lost. They returned, and she was handed the promotion without a challenge.
General took a little longer. She studied her opponents. Waited. Watched. And when the time came, she chose one-an older General known for underestimating "green fighters."
He made the mistake of taunting her.
Arya didn't speak once during the match. She just moved-fluid, sharp, and devastating. The match ended before most knew it had begun.
She was crowned General, and the entire training ground went silent.
Now only one step remained before the final challenge.
Elite General.
There were only two. And if she wanted it, she had to beat one. But whispers spread-Kael himself had been watching. And if a soldier made it to the final tier, they had the right to challenge the Alpha.
Arya wasn't ready for that-not because she lacked skill, but because her mask wasn't ready to face Kael's full attention.
So, she went after the Elite General... and won.
But when Kael stepped forward the next day, challenging her to a spar-not as Alpha, but as a warrior-she hesitated.
The field was quiet.
The soldiers circled, whispers already buzzing like insects.
Kael's gaze locked onto hers. "If you win," he said, "you will have earned the right to stand beside the best of this pack."
Arya's stomach twisted. She couldn't afford to expose herself, not now.
They began. Their clash was brief-Arya deflected, dodged, flowed like water. But never once did she strike at full strength. Her feet danced, her body moved, but her fists held back.
Kael noticed.
He pushed harder, testing, watching, wondering.
And she... forfeited.
The crowd murmured in disbelief. Kael lowered his guard, something unreadable in his eyes. She gave a respectful bow and turned away before anyone could look too close.
Later that night, Lucas found her alone near the edge of the barracks.
"You could've beaten him," he said quietly, not accusing, just... knowing.
She didn't answer right away. Her hands were bandaged. Her back ached. Her heart even more so.
"I didn't come here to lead," she finally said. "Not this time."
Lucas frowned. "Then why?"
She looked up at the moon. "I used to be someone. Someone who had everything ripped from her. My pack... my title... my life. I was an Alpha's daughter once."
Lucas didn't speak, but something shifted in his eyes.
Arya turned to face him, her voice softer. "I don't expect you to understand. But I'm not here to take over. I just needed to prove something... to myself."
He nodded, slow. "You've proven more than you know."
And as he walked away, she felt something she had started feeling whenever she was around him.
Not power. Not triumph.
But trust.
- Writer
