Mataram gathered with the other recruits in Akar's port at Badai. The port was small, and he could see a forest not far beyond. Mataram had seen the man he had spoken to a week earlier but had kept his distance ever since.
"Recruits!" a knight yelled. "Gather up."
Mataram followed the other recruits, who began standing in an orderly fashion. A few knights walked around the formation, eyeing each recruit and handing out different-coloured armbands.
A knight came up and stood before Mataram. The knight did not take long and immediately gave Mataram a black armband. Judging by the other recruits with black armbands, Mataram already knew what it meant.
Once everyone had received their armband, the knights gathered before the recruits. The knight in the centre raised a hand in a gesture that meant 'silence.'
"Welcome to Badai," the knight said. "I am Commander Ezra, and we will begin marching towards the front lines right after this."
Murmurs began among the gathered recruits. A few expressed surprise at how soon they would start marching. Most were talks of despair and soft prayers.
"Silence," Commander Ezra said. He did not yell, but his voice boomed. "I'm sure you all are looking forward to facing our enemies," the Commander said sarcastically. "But getting there is another battle itself. We march in two lines. And DO NOT stray from the path unless you want to disappear and never be found. We've cleared the tunnels in our territory, but new ones keep popping up. Our backlines still get harassed until this very day. For those without weapons, you may pick up the standard-issued swords by the rack over there. Understood?"
"Sir, yes, sir!" the recruits replied.
"Good. We're marching in one hour."
Mataram put on his black armband as he lined up with the other recruits to pick up their swords. When it was Mataram's turn, the woman handing out the swords saluted. Unsure why that was the case, Mataram returned the salute.
"What was that about?" Mataram muttered as he formed in line.
"That's cause you're a rat," the woman standing next to Mataram replied. Judging by the woman's dirty armour, Mataram reckoned she was not one of the recruits. Her face was covered in scorch scars, and one of her eyes was white.
Mataram raised his eyebrow.
"Haven't heard, have you? Rats get an automatic promotion to a knight," the woman said. "And that woman is only a squire."
"I see," Mataram replied.
"Don't get too comfortable," the woman turned to face Mataram. "Rank in the meat grinder means nothing unless you're a commander."
The woman had a stern expression. And her scarred face made her look imposing.
"I understand," Mataram gulped.
"No, you don't," the woman said. "You'll understand when you survive our enemies."
"I guess I will," Mataram shrugged. "Mataram Rakur, by the way," Mataram offered his hand. "Knight of the Akar Empire."
The woman snickered as she accepted the handshake. "Isha Batuswadi. We'll see how long that confidence of yours lasts. Now, stay alert. The enemies could be anywhere at any time."
Mataram copied Isha as they marched through the forest. He stayed alert, shifting his eyes from side to side. The whole column was quiet except for the occasional orders from the Commander.
Over an hour into their march, Commander Ezra's voice boomed. "Make way!"
Their column split in half. Mataram stood on the right edge of the path. His ears twitched as he struggled to hear what was coming. Mataram reckoned Commander Ezra was a wind elementalist. He was able to amplify his voice the same way Dean Anders could. And Mataram was sure the Commander was transmuting tenaga to amplify his hearing.
Mataram tried to do something similar. He transmuted tenaga into the air, controlling the wind to bring him sounds from afar. At first, he heard nothing, but his ears picked up slight movements in the air. He did not know how many sorcerers there were, but something long was flying through. He was amazed by the skills of those sorcerers to fly so quietly. He would have never detected them if he had not known they were coming.
It did not take long for the Akar sorcerers to arrive. The smell hit Mataram first. A few of the recruits gagged, while others covered their noses. Mataram transmuted tenaga to filter the smell. The sorcerers were carrying large wooden boards through the air. The sight shook Mataram.
Bodies were laid on the board. Their eyes were closed, and bandages covered their wounds. None were moving. Almost all were missing limbs. One of them had their lower jaw missing, and Mataram could see the woman's upper teeth.
"Are they dead?" Mataram muttered.
"No," a knight next to him breathed. "These are the lucky ones."
The knight stared at the wounded being carried as they passed without flinching. His eyes were hard and filled with hate. The knight then turned back to face the path. He pointed to the back of the oncoming convoy. "That's the dead."
Mataram turned to face the back of the convoy. The blood drained from his limbs as he paled. The wounded had been laid flat on the board with care, but the dead did not receive the same treatment. Mataram could see why. There were too many dead.
Bodies were piled on top of one another. Lose limbs hung off the sides of the boards. The bodies were in various degrees of mutilation. Mataram saw one with an open belly, and their intestines hung out to one side in a long line. Another was missing their head, and one had their face caved inwards.
Mataram turned around and wretched. The sight of the bodies had caused him to falter, and his transmutation failed. The smell ran deep into his nostrils.
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"Look back when you're done," the knight said to Mataram, his voice devoid of emotion. "That's how we pay our respects."
Mataram returned to the line, where he saw that most of the recruits were also vomiting. Even the highborns. Yet none of the experienced knights look away. Some held their gags while others were vomiting but refused to turn away. Mataram decided to do the same and watched the bodies pass. If he were going to wretch, he would do it while paying respects.
Mataram tried to count how many of the dead there were. He lost count after five hundred, and there was a long way to go. Some were only heads, and he did not know if their bodies were even there or not.
"Why aren't the wounded tended by healers already?" asked Mataram
"Healers are to remain at the docks. They're a protected rare species," the knight answered as devoid as he had spoken earlier.
"Wouldn't more of them survive if they can be healed immediately?" Mataram whispered.
"We move them every day," the knight answered.
"But-"
Before Mataram could ask again, the knight turned to face him and gave him a death glare.
Mataram shut his mouth and looked away. He noticed the other knights were giving him similar glares. He looked down at his feet, hoping the other knights would leave him be.
After a moment, Mataram looked back up at the bodies passing. The knights had ignored him and instead returned to pay their respects. It only took a few more moments for the convoy to finish passing through.
"Return!" Commander Ezra ordered.
The column reformed and began marching shortly after.
"I wouldn't sweat it," Isha teased. "I got the same treatment when I first arrived."
Mataram did not find the glare bothering; the sight of the dead did. He had thought he would be fine.
"How many die each day?" Mataram asked.
Isha's face darkened.
"How many lives could have been saved if our healer was close by."
Isha's face turned grim. "We don't talk about it," she muttered. "We pay our respects, and we don't talk about it. Least said soonest mended," she hissed her last sentence.
Mataram exhaled the breath he did not know he was holding. "Understood."
After another two hours of marching, they finally arrived at the camp. Tall brick walls surrounded the camp. Hundreds of knights stood on the battlements with crossbows at the ready. Inside the walls, it was no different. Hundreds of earth elementalists covered each section of the entire camp. Staying alert for any surprise attack from below ground, Mataram was sure.
"I'll see you when I see you, Mataram," Isha said before leaving. "I do hope that I'll see you again."
"Recruits! Gather around the flag," Mataram heard someone speak to him in his mind. Mataram knew it was an ally visioner's power. But it still made him uneasy when he considered how the enemies could use similar powers against them.
Not all the recruits received the message at the same time. And it took a few minutes for all the recruits to arrive.
There was a knight by the flag pole waiting for them. She had long brown hair, but what was most notable was her prosthetic arm. There was a blue gemstone on the back of the hand. Lightning sorcerer.
"Those of you with a black armband," she began reciting her planned speech. "You are now part of our Underground Hunters division. Congratulations, by the declaration of the Monarch, you are now knights of Akar. Step forward and receive your papers."
Mataram stepped forward first and received a paper. The form was blank, and his name was not even on it. The only section that was filled was his squad number, which led him to barrack number 58.
Not receiving further instructions, Mataram made his way to the designated barrack. The cube structure was made of wood and built for purpose. A knight was sharpening his knife on a wet stone on a bench by the entrance. The knight had a red cross drawn on his forehead. Two others were facing the man and smoking rolled leaves.
When Mataram approached, the man sharpening his knife nodded his head upward, and the other two turned to face him.
The knight put down his knife. "There's the new guy," the knight drawled. The other two knights giggled.
Mataram approached the three. They seemed friendly, he thought.
"Take a seat, lad," the knight gestured at the bench he was sitting on. "And let me see your papers."
"Thanks," Mataram said, sitting on the bench and handing his paper to the knight. Mataram looked up at the other two knights. They were older and had similar ugly grins. One of them had a scar running from the edge of his lips to his neck. The other had missing teeth, and what was left was black. They were friendly.
"You ain't scared of us, son?" The knight with the scarred smile asked.
"He's known for having the scariest smile," the other one joked. "We call him Cutie for it."
"Shut up, mate," Cutie said, grabbing the back of the other man's neck. "This one here is Buttercup. Because rumours have it, he can suck it-."
"Shut your mouth, lads!" the knight that held Mataram's paper yelled. "Boy, here looks eleven."
Mataram could not correct the man, as Cutie immediately cut in.
"Says you, Guppy," Cutie explained.
"And why are you called Guppy?" Mataram asked.
Cutie grinned wider and opened his mouth but was immediately jumped by Guppy, who tried to cover his mouth. Cutie dragged Guppy to the ground, and Buttercup answered instead.
"Because Guppy here has a thing for fish. Found him kissing one with tongue and all," Buttercup chuckled.
"That never happened!" Guppy exclaimed.
"You were drunk. You didn't remember it, that's all," replied Buttercup.
Since the cat was out of the bag, Guppy let go of Cutie.
"Don't believe them, lad," Guppy said to Mataram. "I remember everything even while drunk."
A smile broke out of Mataram.
"Well, it's nice to meet you all. My name is-"
"No," Cutie cut in. "We don't use those names here. We'll give you one when you do something stupid. It's only a matter of time."
Buttercup picked up Mataram's papers from the ground and began to read them. The only problem was that the papers were upside down.
"Mmm, interesting," Buttercup began to mumble.
"Stop pretending like you can read," Guppy said.
"Neither can you," Buttercup retorted.
The door to the barrack opened, and two women came out. One had black hair, while the other had blonde hair. Both of them had their hair cropped short.
"I see you boys have made your introductions," the woman with the black hair snorted.
"Ah, Scissoring," Cutie said. "Glad you could join us."
Mataram swore he heard the black-haired woman's vein pop.
"Cutie," she said with a bright smile, pulling out a small knife. "Would you like a makeover? I'm sure you'll be called beautiful once I'm done," she hissed the new name.
"Ah, no, thank you," Cutie said and began to run in circles around the barrack. Scissoring chased after him.
"Why is she called scissoring?" Mataram asked the other three that remained.
"Because she crushed a man's head between her legs," Buttercup said, receiving a jab from Guppy.
"Isn't that pretty cool?" Mataram asked the blonde woman.
"Oh, you sweet innocent child," the blonde exclaimed. "These boys are going to ruin you," she said.
"Hah!" Guppy laughed. "If anyone is going to ruin the lad, it would be you, Eunuch."
"Eunuch?" Mataram raised an eyebrow.
Eunuch covered her face with her hands and shook her head.
"Rumor has it," Guppy began. "That Eunuch here castrated the last man that tried to ask her on a date."
"You made that story, you fish fucker!" Eunuch screamed, pulling out a knife. She pointed it at Guppy. "Cause of you, I've been living like a monk!"
Eunuch turned to face Mataram and gave him a small smile. "They told me it was because I turn enemy Knights into pussies." She turned back to face Guppy and gave him a devilish smile. "But it seems the rumours might be true once I'm done with him."
Guppy raised both hands in surrender.
"It's pretty cool, though, isn't it?" Mataram asked with a thinking posture.
"Huh?" Eunuch asked. Scissoring also stopped chasing Cutie to look at Mataram.
Mataram continued. "I mean, Eunuch makes you sound like a woman nobody wants to mess with, and Scissoring has a pretty cool back story."
"Oh, you are so innocent," Scissoring sighed.
Eunuch nodded in agreement.
Mataram smirked. The men looked confused but soon realised what was happening and grinned. The woman paled in anger.
"When I first heard your name was Scissoring, I thought it was because you two-."
"Oh, you're a right bastard!" Scissoring barked, pointing her knife at Mataram.
Eunuch shook her head in disbelief and disappointment.
"Run, lad!" Guppy yelled, and Mataram ran.
----------
The six gathered by the small lamp in front of their barracks late in the evening after supper. Mataram learned that the leaves they smoked were called zoots.
"So, you're a sorcerer?" Guppy asked, passing the zoot to Eunuch.
"Wind elementalist," Mataram said.
"Who did you pissed off to end up as a rat?" Scissoring asked as she took a hit from a second zoot.
Unsure of what she meant, Mataram asked. "What do you mean?"
"You're a bloody sorcerer, son," Buttercup explained. "Sorcerers don't become rats unless you pissed someone high up."
Mataram felt a tap from his side. It was Eunuch offering him a zoot.
"No pressure, child," Eunuch said. "Just don't want you to feel left out."
"No more sweet and innocent?" Mataram joked, accepting the zoot.
"Should've known you're a bastard like everyone here," Eunuch chuckled.
Mataram inhaled the zoot and immediately went into a coughing fit. The others laughed. His lungs struggled for air, and he could not breathe. Panicked, Mataram transmuted tenaga into the air and pushed them into his lungs. His breathing was easier, but it was still difficult.
"That's what you bloody deserve," Scissoring chuckled.
Mataram's head felt heavy, and his eyes started squinting.
"That's enough for you tonight," Cutie commented, plucking out the zoot from Mataram's hands. "You'll need to build up your tolerance."
"So," Buttercup asked. "What'd you do that got you ended up here."
"Trust me," Guppy added. "You ain't got to fear any highborns around here. We got each other's back."
Mataram shook his head in an attempt to tell them it had nothing to do with any highborns. He wanted to talk, but he needed to focus on transmuting tenaga.
"Lad doesn't want to tell us," Guppy snorted. "Must've done something real bad."
Mataram shook his head harder. He tried to speak but coughed instead.
"Aye," Cutie concurred and smiled. "Did you mess around with a highborn's missus?"
"Yeah, that's it, innit?" Buttercup smirked.
This was not good. Mataram knew precisely where they were heading with this. He shook his head harder. He was about to speak when he felt Cutie slap his back, which caused another fit of coughs.
"Don't worry, mate. Your secret is safe with us. I swear it," Buttercup giggled, trying to hold his laughter.
"I think we have just the name for you," Eunuch said with a devil's grin.
"Whore."