Jabari and I leapt out of our seats. With him leading the way, we rushed to the Commanding Officer's office, sweating and exhausted. Well I was exhausted, though I couldn't say the same for Jabari.

I hunched my back over heaving for fresh air like a fish out of water. It seems my lack of training is finally taking a toll on me. Curiously, I looked up just as Jabari turned around. He smiled proudly back at me. There was not a sign of fatigue on his face. To him, it was just a morning stroll.

The office stood above a sandy hill, only a few barracks away from the canteen. It was the incline that made the hike hard. To be fair, which sadistic architect thought it was a good idea to build an office at the top of a hill? Couldn't they have been located next to the training ground like everything else? I thought.

Anxiously, I gazed down to the clock tower, its hands were barely visible, but it seemed we were just in time.

“Can’t believe the punctual Seth was almost late.” Jabari joked, slapping my back.

I shook my head. “Don’t blame me. You are equally at fault.” I panted. I took a deep breath as I tried to stand back upright. “And that boy, Tarik, don’t invite him next time.” I added.

Jabari tilted his eyebrows.

“Why? Do you not like him?” He asked.

“It's not that. Men like him aren't ready for what we do. You know that right?” I asked rhetorically.

Jabari chuffed before looking out into the sky somberly. An awkward silence then fell upon us as we both knew it was the truth.

“Man, you really need exercise if you get so easily out of breath.” Jabari laughed off, purposely playing ignorant to my comment, "What would your men think if they see you in such a pitiful state."

I nodded smilingly, brushing off the whole conversation as a joke. Afterall, we have more pressing matters to attend to.

As we stepped on the wooden deck, the familiar sounds of creaking planks brought back the uneasy feeling. Briefly, I glanced at the wall outside the office, decorated with motivational quotes and propaganda. Ironic, considering the man inside was anything but positive.

Hesitantly, the both of us stopped a few meters away from the door. There we stood rooted to the deck as we were reminded of our days in the academy. Just inside was Major Isfit, our commander back when we were officer cadets. His code name, Eefrit, the demon of fire, was proudly brandished on his cap and armor. A well deserved and fitting nickname — the number of grown men who have cried whilst under him could create a whole platoon. So imagine my shock when he was assigned to oversee our battalion, just as Jabari and I were promoted to Lieutenant.

“Hey, open the door.” I suggested, probing Jabari with my elbow.

“Wait, why me?” Jabari argued.

“Hurry, we don’t have much time.” I yelled under my breath before forcefully pushing him towards the door.

Jabari clicked his tongue. With much hesitation, he reached for the handle, shaking. But as he did, the door was forcibly swung open. The wind from the door nearly blew our jockey caps off our heads, causing Jabari to jolt back. From the depth of the dimly lit office an imposing man, 7'2 in height, with a build that seemed to be chiseled by Michelangelo himself, greeted us with crossed arms and a fiery glare. It may have been my imagination, but I could have sworn I could see smoke coming out of his nostril.

"You are late!" His low voice boomed, sending shivers down my spine. I shot up straight with my arms firmly by my side. Only Major Isfit could make officers look like recruits.

"Sorry sir!" Jabari bowed, pushing my head down along with him.

"Do you want me to demote you back to sergeant Jabari?!" Major Isfit barked.

"No, of course not. I will be sure to be mindful of the timing next time!" Jabari pleaded.

Slowly, I looked back up. The Eefrit's eyes then rolled over to me, almost like a predator stalking his prey.

In my frozen state, I watched the Eefrit storm up to me with his chest against my face. "And you… Lieutenant Seth…" He growled, "Just because you were recently promoted doesn't give you the right to miss out on timings either!"

I winced as his spit flew all over the place. Like a rabid dog, he shifted his glare towards the cowering Jabari, and then back to me. You could tell he wanted to give us another round of verbal lashing, but he didn't. Instead, he pinched his temple, pacing back and forth, sighing. It was brief, but for a moment, he felt human. "Whatever, it doesn’t really matter…" He groaned.

Jabari and I looked at one another, relieved but puzzled. The typical Eefrit I know wouldn't stop, period. He would scold, shout, brutalize our ears long after the sun has set.

“Your turn.” Jabari suggested softly before I could.

“What… you didn’t even open the door just now!” I whispered angrily.

Jabari didn’t react. He simply stood still like a statue, even after I poked him in the arm. There is no way I am convincing him to take the initiative this time.

I sneered before swallowing a mouthful of spit. “Sir, what is it that you call us for?” I asked, somehow without stuttering.

The air around us turned still and cold.

Major Isfit headed to the bench outside the office, stepping over a dead bug before kicking its carcass away. With a long sigh, he pulled out a cigarette and lighted it. Looking more closely this time, his face was pale like a ghost, emphasizing his dark eye shadows caused by the lack of sleep. Whatever it was, it must have been eating at him for quite a while.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

“It's… It's Grand Apostle Ra. He has a mission for us.” he muttered before resting his head on his fist, cigarette dangling lazily on his other hand.

A faint uncomfortable numbness settled in my intestines as another unpleasant memory began to resurface. I bit my lips till I could taste my own blood. Grand Apostle Ra. A name I didn't want to hear.

Jabari seemed equally uneasy. “Is it going to be like last time?” he asked with a slight tremble in his voice.

Major Isfit remained uncharacteristically silent, as he nodded his head.

My legs nearly gave in as I stumbled back, speechless. It all felt so surreal, like I was revisiting a nightmare. I thought I had already gotten over the guilt of that day, but I guess it is not so easy.

Jabari stared at me. I know he was thinking the same thing. He hovered his hands over my shoulder, but backed off at the last second.

“As your CO, I want to formally apologize for recommending you two for this mission.” Major Isfit, bowed his head. It was a strange sight to see the draconian Major Isfit act so humble. Then again, it spoke volumes on the gravity of this matter.

“You two have already been through the events of that mission. No. Let's not beat around the bush. It was a massacre." He hesitantly lifted his head, meeting us eye-to-eye. "You two are the only ones who are able to deal with this mission…”

“Emotionally and mentally you mean?” Jabari interrupted.

He nodded silently.

“WHEEEE!!!”

The sound of steam engines approached from the foot of the hill. Major Isfit lifted himself off the bench, with his complexion still just as pale.

"You two… follow me." He commanded. Although he was clearly reluctant, his footsteps were still fast and urgent, a sign of an experienced and dedicated soldier. Jabari followed soon after. However, my legs just couldn’t move. It was like I was numb, staring helplessly into the corner. Even the sound of wheels screeching to a halt behind me was barely audible.

When Jabari realized I wasn’t trailing behind, he turned around and stood by my side. “Seth, it’s our duty,” he said glumly patting me on my back before walking away once again.

I clenched my teeth. I know.

I stood back up, nearly falling over due to nauseating thoughts in my head. Parked next to the office was one of the Isstormur Kingdom's latest inventions, the horseless carriage. It was my first time seeing one. The carriage itself looked pretty standard with a steel rectangular cart and a curved roof above. The true magic lies in front, as a rusty steam engine dragged it in the place of a horse, being steered by a set of linkages hidden below the carriage. It looked fairly accurate to the drawings in propaganda newspapers with the only inaccuracy being the ugly Khamaseen Army flag vandalized at the side.

The coachman opened the door for us. Jabari thanked him with a forcefully big smile, as if trying to trick himself into being happy. Major Isfit was next, he awkwardly contorted his body as he tried to fit in the tiny door frame, moaning and groaning. I was last. A heaviness in my chest could be felt as the reality of the situation began to sink in. With slow breaths, I willed myself to enter the carriage, knowing full well it would be a decision I would regret.

The ride was a bumpy one. I had stayed in camp for so long, I nearly forgot how poorly maintained the roads in the city were. Bumps, cracks and potholes were generously sprinkled on the streets. We found ourselves hanging on to dear life as the carriage shook uncontrollably. But what made the trip more unbearable was the heat. Under the desert sun of Khamaseen, staying in the carriage was like cooking in an oven. When I tried to open the window to alleviate the stuffiness, the putrid smell of sewage stormed in and Jabari leapt from his seat to close it. There was a disappointed look on Jabari’s face. Is this the state of our country? He probably thought.

Unlike in camp, there was no picture of Grand Apostle Ra in the entirety of the street. The buildings were run down, the shops were left vacant and the kids ran barefooted on the gravel roads even as they stepped on the raw sewage that littered the streets. Somehow, it looked worse than I remembered. Calling living standards poor was an understatement, especially considering our huge natural supply of steel and coal, two vital commodities during the steam revolution. If we had even a semblance of a capable Apostle, maybe things would be different.

Perhaps that’s why the recruitment office is always busy. With so many dilapidated infrastructures and blatant mismanagement of public funds, the military is the only place one could find work. I mean, it was my reason for enlisting.

"Oh no… here they come…" the coachman whined. With all his might, he pulled the braking lever, halting the carriage. In front, a line of men and women, children and elderly, barricaded our path. Bowls and cups in hand. With their exposed cyst-covered skin and scurvy-ridden teeth, they looked more dead than alive. They were known as the “Untouchables”, the majority of Khamaseenians. The group consisted of beggars, swindlers and prostitutes, all trying to make ends meet. A fancy steam carriage like this is like ringing the dinner bells for wild beasts.

Slowly, the Untouchables approached, surrounding the carriage till there was nowhere for us to run. They pushed their bowls against the windows, trying desperately to claw it open. As one of them glanced over to me with pitiful eyes, I covered my face with my cap, ashamed.

"I will deal with them," Jabari said as he got off his seat. But Major Isfit stopped him, shaking his head.

“Don’t waste your breath on these people.” He muttered coldly. He then opened the windows, just barely enough so that they couldn't fit their hands through. With his pistol in hand, he fired a round through the slot and into the sky.

“BANG!”

The gunshot echoed inside the carriage and the Untouchables scurried like rats into the dank alleyways.

The coachman gave a jolly laugh as he started the engine once more.

Jabari and I looked at one another. Not a word needed to be exchanged.

Soon, as we were heading down the streets, a huge shadow casted over the carriage as a single wall stood between us and the sun. The wall was as tall as mountains, and stretched wider than any road. It is called the Dhahab Barrier, the first line of defense for the city of Dhahab. Finally, we were here.

“Halt!” a group of royal guards emerged from the gates. They gestured with their rifles, demanding we step out for a customary check. We complied.

As I did though, I felt an unsettling feeling of being watched. Jabari tugged at my sleeve and pointed to the slots in the wall. Though distant, the military has taught me to make out the shape of gun barrels from anywhere — especially if it was pointing at us. They were snipers.

I looked behind at the ramshackled buildings behind us, teeming with the Untouchables. “I was wondering where all our snipers were transferred to. To think now they would be pointing at their own people.” I commented.

Jabari shooked his head while Major Isfit stayed silent.

After the check, we hopped in the carriage as it took us through the gates and into Dhahab, the capital of Khamaseen, the home of the Apostles and surprisingly Tarik's hometown.

Dhahab is the only city the Apostles are willing to renovate. After all, even they wouldn't want to wake up in a city of crime and poverty. And it shows. The difference between inside the wall and outside was like night and day. People here were plump, roads were cleaned and well-maintained and the bakeries cut their prices as they made too much bread. Society here wasn't just functioning, it was thriving. Perhaps that is where Tarik’s positivity and patriotism comes from.

But even with the general upgrade in build quality, a single building put all the others to shame. At the center of the city, a grand castle towered over. The shadow it casted turned the whole city into a giant sundial, dwarfing the surrounding infrastructure; perhaps representing the inflated ego of those who rule the country. That is home of the Khamaseen’s Apostles — the Castle of Kabir, our destination.