Dorian and his father had quite the distance to travel. It would take them at least three weeks to reach the city on horse. The Aethling empire was as huge as its army. Their population exceeding billion, its numbers hard to imagine.

The empire stretched across the land. It could take you more than a year to reach the nearest city from the furthest outposts of the empire. The Aethling legion consisted of around the six million soldiers. A number that may seem small in comparison with the sheer amount of people living in the country, But the country was not at war, in wartime the amount of soldiers would increase exponentially.

There was also a separate group that monitored the streets and took care of civilian safety and waged their never ending war against criminality. The group was simply referred to as 'The Guard' and could be seen at any of the larger towns or cities.

The army was separated into divisions. A Company consisted of ten Battalions, Each Battalion consisted of two Cohorts, and each Cohort consisted of ten Centuries, a single Centurie consisted of a hundred soldiers. Which meant that each Company had 20.000 Legionnaires.

The Aethling Empire commanded three-hundred of these companies. Dorian knew the numbers of the Aethling army in his head but he could just not imagine such a vast amount of people gathering in one place. And all of them soldiers, Armed to the teeth. His head turned blank at the financial costs an army of that size must entail.

He could almost see the rows upon rows of legionnaires crashing down on their enemies. The file and rank of the Aethling Empire visible as far as his eyes could see. To be a part of such an army filled him with a strange sense of pride. He could feel his mind slipping away into daydreams of glorious battle.

The empire may be huge, and their armies powerful and intimidating yet the Aethling Empire did not have a lust for war. Despite the size of the empire there was no wish to expand. They already had all the resources and land they could occupy. 

Having no need for conquest the army was mostly stationed at key points to defend against raids or attempts at conquests from other neighbouring countries. Not that there were many of these brave enough to do so, most of the raids were done by rogue tribes not affiliated to any country.

The travel along the road got boring quick. His father was cutting through area's to take the shortest route they could, instead of travelling by road. He often heard that monsters attacked any traveller brave or stupid enough to do this. 

After two weeks of making their way through forests and grasslands he started to doubt these stories. After all this time he had not seen even a single monster. Animals he had also seen very few of. It was as if all creatures steered clear from this area.

He and his father barely talked at all during the trip. Both of them were men of few words and since they were father and son, they had spent Dorian's entire life together so there were not many topics they could discuss which hadn’t been discussed before.

Finally his father told him they would see the city soon. Honestly his fingers where itching for something else to do than hunt and travell. His father had already told him he would take him straight to the cities Enlisting Station, help him enlist and then be on his merry way back home.

Soon enough Dorian saw the towering granite walls of the city appearing before him. It was humongous. Nowhere near the size of his village. The city far expanded beyond the limits of what his imagination had been capable of. The walls moved out to both sides as far as his eyes could see.

"So the Capital is this big!" Dorian exclaimed.

"Don't be so ignorant." His father said smirking. "This is just one of the normal cities. The capital is many times larger than this. In the capital it will take you near a week to reach one edge of the city from the other."

A city that took a week to pass through? Dorian couldn't even begin to grasp the sheer size of the capital. This ‘minor city’ was already larger than he had imagined. The capital huh. Now that was a place he yearned to visit.

Once they got on the road that led to one of the city gates he saw other people again. The sheer number of them was insane. It was mind-boggling how many people could be together in one place.

At second glance he noticed that he couldn't even call all of them people. There where many other races he could see. The pointed ears of the elves, the small bearded frames of the dwarves. A couple of towering Entmen  stuck out above the crowd.  Beastmen crowded the roads. But the Aethlings themselves far outnumbered any of the other races.

Dorian himself was human half human at least. Although humans were not an uncommon race to be found in nearly any empire or country. Norverns were far more rare, although Norverners had near the same appearance as humans their physical capabilities far out-ranged those of a normal human. Distinctive marks of a Norvener were their copper hair, and a band of red around their pupil. Those that came from the old tribes themselves often had the tribal marks that came with it. The empire was a mixed country and did not have any separate laws for the separate races. That does of course did not mean that there was no discrimination. Racism had all but died out however, the races having lived together for hundreds of years.

As long as there were differences in people there would be people who would look down on others. These cases had become rare over the years however. It took Dorian a few moments to get used to the press of bodies. Even the smell was nearly enough to overwhelm him. Nobody had warned him about the stench that accompanied such a huge number of people living so close to each other. He could feel the sweat of thousands of different individuals penetrating his nostrils with their unpleasant oder.

Then something strange happened, his vision went hazy for a second as he looked at a particular man walking down the street. The sides of his head were shaved and he had the rest of his hair tied back in a tight braid. A magnificent bronze coloured beard decorated the mans face, accompanied with some savage and tribal looking tattoo's. A Norvener.

A strange sense of recognition grasped his heart as he stared at the man. He felt like he knew the Norvener. He felt connected in a way that he could not explain, he felt trust. The word 'brother' came to mind when looking at the man, a brother not of blood but forged in battle.

Before he could approach the man the sweeping of the crowd took him away, leaving him with many unanswered questions. He tried standing as tall as he could to gaze over the crowd but he did not spot the man again. His father dragged him further through the crowd to avoid being separated from him.

Following the flow of people they eventually came to the gate. The gate itself was humongous standing at over 25 meters tall. The flow of people were allowed in without needing any identification or pass.

Once in a while guards would pull over a random cart or ask a citizen if they could look through their possessions. Random searches for contraband being their choice of approach. It would indeed require a considerable amount of manpower to check every person who wanted to enter this city.

The city guard, his father told him, Were not even under the same command as the men of the legion. They were separately conscripted men and women who lived in the city itself. Much like the militia his own village had.

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Although the city guards were not as well trained or armed as the average legionary, they were not to be underestimated.

Getting into the city without any problems his father led him through the streets as if he knew exactly where to go. In truth his father DID know exactly where to go. He had been in the city multiple times for some special requests he received. Sometimes he would be gone for a month or so at a time. But he would never accept more than one of these requests a year. He wanted to spend most of his time with his family.

The buildings of the city were pressed close together. There was no space between the houses at all as there would be in the village. Also all the houses had multiple floors. Something he rarely saw in his hometown. Why build up when you could just build to the sides, it was after all considerably easier.

The architecture of the city was nowhere near as awe-inspiring as the size of it all. There were no real points of interest on the majority of the buildings. Just dark grey blocks that people lived in. It was a bit disappointing really, Dorian expected the city to have a vast arrange of architectural wonders he could not even have dreamed of. Then Dorian started to wonder what they did with all the sewage.

But then he saw the metallic pipes running past the houses and over their heads the pipes seemed to have some kind of enchantment engraved on them and he assumed that magic was being used to pump waste through the pipes and into wherever it was headed.

An invention he realised, that was sorely necessary in a city of this size. He imagined what would happen if the people had no way to remove their waste and it just gathered on the streets. The image growing in his mind turned his face pale. He quickly brought his mind to more pleasant and enjoyable pastures.

At long last they reached the Enlistment Station. The building was a good deal larger than the others around it and had a squadron of proud legionnaires posted outside. The legionaries each had a spear in one hand and a tower shield in the other. A short sword in its scabbard on their hips.

The armour they wore was dark plate with copper or bronze linings. The plates had no sleeves and hugged the torso tightly. They had gauntlets to protect their fore-arms that came attached with leather gloves. They had boots of the same leather that was attached to the same dark plate and bronze greaves.

Each Legionnaire stood straight and proud and swept their eyes over the crowd. They had a professional aura that was a great deal more intimidating than the city guard. He noticed that each of these Legionnaires was an Aethling. 

Aethlings looked a lot like humans except for their slanted eyes and their blue, grey, or even green hair. Their skin was also a bit peculiar. You could see a soft outline of their veins pulsing beneath the skin. Their slightly ash coloured skin almost transparent.

His father stepped into the Enlistment Station not giving any particular attention to the guards. The guards didn't pay him any attention other than a quick up and down to asses the threat. Once inside the Enlistment station he saw that it was quite a large room. Although it hadn't looked very big on the outside, once inside it was larger than expected. 

Wooden counters with both male and female clerks behind them took up most of the space. Each of these booths had a line. The lines were filled with young men and women who wanted to enlist into the legion. On second glance he noticed not all of them were young. Some of the people looking to enlist had already passed the age of his father.

The legion did care who entered its ranks. If they did not manage to pass the training then they were not ready to be enlisted. Any of them who passed was good enough for the legion no matter age,sex or religion. This was the simple doctrine that the Legion followed. If they could be trained, they could fight.

The line slowly moved forward, there was a little space behind each person that was at a clerks desk. People preferred to have a little privacy in moments like these. A small yellow line drawn in the floor indicating where the line should start. The line slowly yet steadily moved forward as the clerks took their jobs seriously and worked diligently. 

Soldiers discipline he supposed. At long last it was their turn, the clerk that helped them was a younger lady maybe twenty years of age. She was pretty, with her dark eyes and thick lashes. The dark curly hair that framed her head doing her face justice.

There it was again, that strange sense of familiarity. He felt like he could trust this woman, like he had fought with this woman. The unexplained feelings made him a bit uncomfortable , the woman spoke up and he snapped out of his line of thought.

"Name, age and place of birth please." The clerk asked them as soon as they stepped forward.

Dorian opened his mouth to answer but a gesture from his father stopped him.

"His age is 16, Place of birth is Walmont Village, Name is Dorian Storsworn." His father told the clerk. Storsworn? Who the hell was Storsworn? The family name was Liftfuor not Storsworn. Dorian knowing that his father always did things for a good reason tried to keep his face blank . Luckily, the clerk wasn't paying him any particular attention

"Ok, a minute please while i fill in the forms" The clerk told them. After a few seconds of scribbling the clerk looked at them again and asked. "Preferred area of expertize?"

"Excuse me what?" Dorian asked the clerk.

The clerk didn't even blink at the question and immediately started explaining what she meant. "The army has groups specialised in different areas. Here read this form that will explain the different positions and what they do."

Dorian took the piece of parchment that the clerk handed him and started reading.

Infantry : The foot soldiers of the Legion they form the proud backbone of the empire. They will be the first Into the fray and the last out. They will clash with the enemies of the Empire face to face. With their comrades by their sides.

Archers : Pelting the enemies from a safe distance with sharpened projectiles. Raining death on the enemies that dare attack the Empire. Using the infantry as a shield they increase casualties in the further ranks of the enemies reducing the amount the front lines would have to face. The empires hand strikes swift and hard.

Calvary : The mounted fighters are specialised and trained together with their mounts. Fighting together with another creature has its advantages. Especially when large groups of them drive themselves into the core of the enemy forces. Pay increased by 0.5x , training twice as long as infantry.

Administrative duties : Even the army needs to keep its finances and other paper work in order. The clerk you are speaking with now is someone who has chosen administrative duties. Clerks make sure the items arrive at the right spot at the right time. If you have any further questions about this job please address the clerk.

Logistic Duties : If supplies and working in a warehouse is more your forté than fighting the enemies in the field then this this is the place for you. You do not have to fight, to do your part for the empire!

"Well i would like the infantry then" Dorian told the clerk. His reasoning was simple. He had never worked with a bow so archery was out of the question, he would prefer fighting on his own feet in the dirt like he did with his father than on a mount. He did want to engage in battle so there was only one option left.

The Clerk nodded and started scribbling some things on her parchment again. After a minute or two of writing she finished and looked up. "Dorian Storsworn you may now exit through the door there in the back" She told him, pointing at a door in the back of the building. 

"A legionnaire will take you and the rest of your group to the bunks were you will stay until training starts. You happen to be in luck the training will start tomorrow so you will not have to wait long."

Happy to hear that he could get started soon he looked at his father once more. His father looked him in the eyes and stuck out his hand. Dorian grasped his fathers hand and gave him a firm handshake. 

"Do me proud boy." He told him.

Dorian nodded and headed out through the door. Although the question about the change in his surname still swam around in his head he didn't ask his father about it .He would simply call himself Storsworn from now on. The reasoning didn't matter. He had more than enough faith in his father to follow the things he did without question.

Following instructions without question was the mark of a good soldier after all, was it not?

Walking through the door he saw the legionnaire that nodded at him and told him. "Very well you are the last one, everyone follow me!" The legionnaire said striding away without looking back obviously expecting everyone to follow him.

And so follow him they did, pacing through the alley behind the building they were led through the streets and eventually they headed out of the city. After a good while of walking some people had started talking to the ones walking next to them.

The Legionnaire discouraged this with a gruff remark about how they should start learning how to be silent. Glancing at each other they just shrugged and followed the grumpy legionnaire.

After about an hour of walking they finally reached the camp.