For a place named Castle Black, there’s actually surprisingly little of it, Nathaniel mused, taking in the sight of his new home. In fact, the only black object that he could see was a lonely flag that flew the Company’s standard from a flagpole, a malicious grin painted in white contrasted against a background of pure jet.
A singular sprawling structure that was more squat than tall, the castle was built almost entirely of squared blocks of grey stone. While worn smooth by weather and time, occasional bits of it were patched up by a darker, rougher material, contrasting wildly with the original colour. Looking eerily like phantoms, sentinels in black patrolled heavily on the ramparts in the light of dusk, with scones being lit by torch-bearing runners in preparation for the coming night. Aerial patrols mounted on griffins or the occasional dragon ringed a wide circumference around the castle, adding to the appearance that the castle was preparing for battle. Not that it was out of place, given that war was one of the Company’s many services.
Their party slowed down to a stop in mid-air as a bell rung thrice. Each note reverberating crisply and clearly, the sound washed over Nathaniel like a cold shower. Idly noting that the bell was likely to be enchanted, the boy twisted around to look at Dice.
“Why are we stopping?”
Dice gestured with his chin. “Security. Look down, Nathaniel. We’re being warned to stop and wait for a greeting party or the guards will attack us.”
The boy stretched out as far as he dared, craning his neck. And sure enough, Nathaniel saw the guards were all in high alert, with multiple of them aiming either ranged weaponry or what he assumed to be wands and staffs towards their general direction. Frowning, he combed a hand through his locks, brushing away windswept hair from his face.
“But we’re more than two hundred metres away! And it’s so windy too.”
Chuckling, Dice reached under Nathaniel’s arm, scratching a spot on Barbecue’s long neck as the dragon grumbled his annoyance at being made to hover.
“I’ve seen them hit smaller targets in worse conditions, kid. See all the battlements the castle has?” The knight pointed. “We call them crow’s nests, just like on a ship. Our snipers like to camp there when on duty, and they aren’t called snipers for no reason, kid. Nowadays, the castle apparently has multiple rings of magical floating wardstones, courtesy of one of our arch magi when he was bored. I’ve heard rumours that lightning spells can chain off them to cover massive distances when they were still experimental. Don’t wanna risk it, really.”
“Oh, and here comes the greeting party. That’s a fire dragon; see the colour? Red’s fire, Barbecue here’s an ice dragon. Don’t know if you’ll see a lightning one today, but you can always ask the headmistress…” Trailing off, Dice raised a hand in greeting to the the two people who came up to meet them.
“Is that Team Golf I see? Back from a kidnapping mission, eh? Does the poor boy know what you’re getting him into?”
Riding on a slightly smaller red dragon but with larger wings, a man in similar armour to Dice returned the gesture lazily, pulling up to a hover right before Barbecue. Wearing an easy grin that was obvious even with his full beard, the fellow knight had long, reddish brown hair tied up in a loose bun, showing off a slight widow’s peak. Pronounced cheekbones and a huge fang hanging from his left ear painted him with a air of youthful rebellion. Coming up behind him, a tawny griffin carried another man dressed in robes with the hood up, slouching into the saddle with the reins in one hand and a long staff across his shoulders in the other.
“Hello to you too, you wanker. Nathaniel, this is Outsider and his dragon, Smaug. The mage on the griffin is Messy. Lads, this is Nathaniel.” Dice snorted as he saw the boy wave distractedly, engrossed as he was in admiring Smaug. Riding a dragon for the past ten hours or so have not worn off the novelty of them for Nathaniel, it seemed.
Messy shook his head amusedly. “Cutting it close to the start of the term, aren’t you? I’ll signal the all-clear, you guys can head down and stable your mounts now.” Catching Outsider’s eye, the mage jerked his head to the side.
Tapping on the base of Smaug’s neck, Outsider yelled something to the dragon that Nathaniel didn’t quite catch before it spat out three breaths of fire to the side, two short cones and the last one longer in duration. Both raising hands in goodbye, the red dragon rider and the mage drifted off downwards towards one of the taller battlements of the castle.
The boy blinked. “Does that mean anything?”
Dice made a hum of affirmation. “Two breaths means that the other party is not hostile, and the additional long one at the end means we’re Company.”
“What if they’re aggressive? What signals do they give, then?”
Laughing, the knight angled Barbecue towards the castle, the rest of the party following suit.
“Well, then the greeting party would be attacking them, wouldn’t they?”
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Nathaniel hid a sudden yawn behind his hand as he followed Weaver up a flight of stairs situated behind a portcullis beside the stables. Smiling amusedly at the sight, the priest stopped before a closed wooden door at the top of the stairs.
“Sleepy, love?” Placing a palm flush onto a squarish metal plate bolted chest-high to the thick wooden door, Weaver flared her mana through it.
“A little, yes.” Nathaniel rubbed at his eyes while the door unlocked. Was that a magical lock of some kind? This place is cool!
Pulling the dark-haired boy into a one-armed hug as they walked through the door, Weaver made a sympathetic noise. “Just a little more till everything is done, okay? I need to get you to register at the office before we go anywhere, followed by a check-up at the medical wing. It wouldn’t drag too long, hopefully. Dinner bell should be ringing in a bit, I think.”
Nathaniel let his gaze wonder as he absent-mindedly nodded his head. The interiors of the castle was a lot more well-lit than he expected. Braziers littered the corridors regularly couple of paces for light and warmth while lamps were installed either on the walls or the handrails of staircases where there wasn’t enough floor space. Giving out a warm, yellow light, the lamps were bright but not overly so, keeping from blinding the boy even as he peered at them curiously.
“Are these magical lamps? Is that why they don’t flicker?” Nathaniel poked a few times at the glass of one with his finger, the lamp feeling surprisingly sturdy instead of hollow.
The priest reached for his hand before pulling him along, an exasperated smile on her face. Nodding her head at the various people passing them by, she weaved her arm around his, tugging softly but firmly each time Nathaniel’s curiosity got the better of him. “Yes, the lamps are lit by a small piece of a magical crystal that glows whenever its dark. The thick glass diffuses the brightness of the crystals by a little bit, and it protects them from the itchy fingers of young boys as well.”
Moment away from touching another lamp, Nathaniel withdrew his other hand abruptly. Grinning sheepishly, he pointedly stuffed his hand into a pocket of his trousers.
“Don’t worry, you’ll see them up close soon enough. All cadets do chores like replacing the crystals when the lamps get dimmer; it helps cut down the amount of tasks the castle staff has to do. It is also effective punishment detail for misbehaving cadets.” Snorting, Weaver led him into a hall. “Saintly, Robin and Dice practically took over lamp duty when we were still cadets.”
A huge, wide-open space, the hall was lengthy and rectangular. With another set of doors mirroring the grand entrance which they came in from, four massive windows were built into the long wall on his left, stretching so huge that Nathaniel was sure a dragon can fly through without much trouble. That, the boy thought, might have been the whole point. Opposite the windows, three long tables were arranged into the border of a half-hexagon without the longest side, their sides cut and angled in such a way that they formed the shape seamlessly. Multiple high-backed wooden chairs were tucked in from the outside of the half-hexagon, facing the windows with the remaining wall standing plain and unadorned behind them. Much like the corridors of the rest of the castle, multiple braziers lit up the hall with warm flickering light while desk lamps stood aloof on the tables, each one marking the position of a chair.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
It was also empty, save for a lone woman lounging in a chair with her feet propped up on the edge of a table. An elaborate crossbow, impressive in both size and design, was left leaning within easy reach against the wall behind her.
“Sappy!”
Weaver let go of Nathaniel’s arm, bounding forward. Standing just a breath shorter than the priest, Sappy was a gentle-looking middle-aged woman willowy in figure. Slightly greying at the temples, her long auburn hair was styled in a thick braid, showing off slight crows feet at the corner of her eyes. With deep laugh lines on her face, Sappy looked like the very definition of a radiant mother. The older woman laughed as she caught the priest into a hug, picking her up and twirling her around once. Releasing her, she held Weaver at arm’s length, looking at her from head to toe.
“Goodness, girl, you’ve lost weight!” Sappy pinched Weaver on the cheek gently, her expression mock-stern. “Have your boys been stealing your food again? Do you want me to have a word with them later?”
Giggling, Weaver shook her head. “No, Sappy, the boys were very well-behaved this few months. Well, maybe except Saintly, but you know how he is. It’s just that I’m wearing full leather under my robes instead of half-and-half this time.” Turning towards Nathaniel, Weaver gestured for the boy to come forward.
“Nathaniel, I’ll like to meet Sappy. Sappy here is one of the Company’s general staff and is the head of the administration department. She was also part of the team that brought me here, much like how Team Golf and I brought you.” Smiling softly, she put an arm around Nathaniel’s shoulders. “Sappy, this is Nathaniel. The boys and I found him at the imperial orphanage at Starrwyn a day or two ago.”
Eyes crinkling, Sappy smiled at Nathaniel. “A pleasure to meet you, lad.” Frowning abruptly, she peered closer at the boy’s face, causing him to nearly flinch in surprise.
“You’ve been mage-touched, and recently too.” Sappy turned to Weaver. “Was it you, girl?”
Shrugging, Weaver nodded. “He got caught up in a scrap before we met him at the orphanage. Traded the other boy two black eyes and a broken nose for a split lip and was so proud of it too. I think the boys have already corrupted him.”
Sappy snorted. Walking back towards the chair she was previously in, the older woman rummaged through a pile of folders before letting out a soft sound of triumph, pulling out a folder. Opening it, she took a sheet of paper out before taking a seat, dipping a pen into an inkpot.
“Well, come over here then, Nathaniel. Can’t register you if you don’t sign the contract.”
Puzzled, Nathaniel tilted his head to look at Weaver. “Contract?”
The priest parked herself on the edge of the table, sitting in deep enough for her feet to dangle. “Mmhmm, a contract. It’s basically to show that the Company has given you an offer to take you in and train you. Signing it means you accepted the offer willingly and agree to abide by the rules and conditions of the Company.”
“Can you tell me a little more about the rules and conditions?” Nathaniel asked, hesitant. It wasn’t like he wasn’t going to sign it, given that he was already here, but it was always good to know.
“Hmm…” Eyeing the boy in approval, Sappy turned the contract to face him. “Think of it like… an apprenticeship, if you will. You are already a legal ward of the Company, which, as promised, means that we will feed and clothe you while providing you a home, but that’s it, really. You’re a Black now, but not a member of the Company. Upon signing this contract, you will then be part of our academic program, in which we will educate, train, and provide you with all the equipment and facilities you might need.”
The older woman then pointed to a particular paragraph. “In return, you will agree to be bonded to the Company for at least four years after you successfully graduate into a journeyman, which is the stage after cadetship. Also, the Company reserves the right to take the lion’s share of the mission fee, with a suitable percentage returning to you as a bonus for the successful completion of a mission. The bonus varies according to your rank within the unit. The higher it is, the more you get as a bonus.”
“Ah,” said Nathaniel, face wary. So that’s the catch. Matron Abby was right, there’s no such thing as a free lunch.
Catching his expression, Sappy chuckled. “Don’t worry, boy, the Company’s not out to gouge you. Think of it as providing for the family. Payment for amenities, animal feed, meals, armour and weapons… it takes a lot of gold to keep an outfit like this running. In addition of the bonus, the Company will also pay you a very generous salary every month, which is also dependant on your rank.”
Sappy scratched her nose with the back of her pen. “Did you understand everything I just said, Nathaniel? Tell me if you need me to repeat anything.”
I… think I’ve gotten all of that. Do I sign here?” Nathaniel asked, pointing at the bottom of the page.
Nodding, Sappy passed the pen to him butt-first. “Remember to sign your last name as well, boy.”
Grinning, the dark-haired boy scrawled his name in full on to the bottom of the page. “So, what now?”
“Now, off you go to the medical wing. If you hurry, you might be able to complete your medical examination and get settled in before the dinner bell rings.” Tidying her desk, Sappy paused long enough to wink.
“Welcome to the Company proper, Nathaniel.”
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“Why can’t you do it? I mean, you’ve healed me, right? Don’t you already know how healthy I am?” Nathaniel asked as Weaver and him made their way to the medical wing of the castle.
Shaking her head, Weaver explained. “It’s not the same, love. I’m only a priest, not yet a doctor. While learning how to heal requires some medical knowledge, being a doctor is much more than that. Healing is like a quick, convenient tool, but it can’t replace the real thing.” Pausing slightly as she thought about it, the priest flared her mana into a hand, looking as wisps of mana shimmered between her fingers. “In fact, it’s kind of like cheating, actually. All I do is to channel mana and cast a miracle.”
As she spoke, the blue shimmer on her hands condensed into a single point at the tip of her index finger, glowing a green so bright that it almost hurt to look at it directly. “The miracle then converts the mana I channel into healing magic. At the easiest stage, I don’t really need to know how the body works to fix it, because I need to do is to just boost a person’s ability to heal itself. However, knowing how the body works is essential in higher levels of healing. Miracles can only heal physical wounds and combat dark magic, so it’s actually more limited than you think. A healer can do a lot, but healers that are proper doctors can do even more.”
“And we’re here, love.” Weaver stopped before a pair of double doors and knocked in an odd cadence. While exactly the same in design as every other set in the castle, the doors to the medical wing seemed to be fashioned entirely out of a dark metal, reflecting the surrounding braziers with a dull sheen. Though oddly muffled, the knocks had apparently alerted someone inside as there was soon a shout from behind the door.
“Coming! Be there in a jiffy!”
Nathaniel glanced questioningly at Weaver, who only winked at him with a finger on her lip and knocked again with same cadence as before. Almost immediately after, one side of the doors swung open, creaking to reveal a man babbling excitedly with his hands held wide.
“Oh sweetheart, I’ve been aching to see you the entire— Shit. You’re not Peggy.”
“Evening, doctor,” Weaver grinned. “We’re here for your last appointment before dinner bell rings.”
Sinking to his knees with a drawn-out groan, the doctor pretended to weep dramatically, shaking his fist at the ceiling. “Curse you, Murphy!” he cried. “Curse you and your stupid relevant law!”
Helping him up, Weaver snickered. “So its sweetheart now, sir? Not calling Miss Peggy by her name anymore?”
“Hush, you. Now, who’s this here? Your secret, illegitimate son with Oy?” The man eyed Nathaniel speculatively, stroking his chin as the boy blinked. “I knew he was sweet on you, Weaver, but I didn’t think you two would move that quickly. For shame,young lady. I thought I always told all my students to use protection— Ow!”
Flushing, Weaver punched him in the arm again, angling her fist slightly this time so she could dig in with the first two knuckles.
"OW!"
“For the last time, Poker, Oy and I are just friends! Stop making people think that we’re involved, idiot mentor!”
Wincing, Poker rubbed at his arm. “Methinks the lady does deny too much. In fact— Nevermind. Now, what can I do for you, young man?” Changing the subject hastily as Weaver held up a threatening fist, the doctor stepped aside, letting them into the medical wing proper.
“Evening, sir. My name’s Nathaniel and I’m here for a… medical exam?” Nathaniel looked hesitant at Weaver, who nodded encouragingly at him.
Nodding his head, the doctor then walked over to a chair, patting the top of the backrest with a hand before wandering off deeper into the medical wing. “Alright then, kid, take a seat and hold on for a moment. I need to grab some papers…”
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Nathaniel huffed, pulling on the straps of the knapsack he was carrying. While built wide enough to not cut into his shoulders, the sheer amount of gear he was humping in his bag was starting to wear him down.
“Ugh, how many sets did you say the quartermaster’s office would issue again? Because I’m pretty sure they gave me almost double the amount.”
“Eight sets, love,” Weaver’s amused voice floated down to him from the top of the flight of stairs they were currently climbing. “You did say you didn’t want any help.”
Wiping away at a bead of perspiration from his brows, the boy stuck out his bottom lip to pout at the priest. Once Poker was done with him at the medical wing, Weaver had brought him to the Company’s supply office to collect his ‘kit’, as it was called. Consisting of multiple sets of clothes, two pairs of boots and other sundries, he was a little surprised when what looked like a slightly puffy padded jacket was added to the pile. The quartermaster’s assistant, who was a girl about the same age as him, had explained that it was called an arming jacket, and that it was meant to be worn as either light armour or under plate. Apparently it also doubled as a winter jacket as well, or at least according to Weaver.
Nathaniel paused to buck the knapsack higher up his back. “Well, the girl gave me fourteen sets!”
“Come on, you,” Weaver laughed. “It’s not that heavy, you big baby. You’ll be carrying more during training, and maybe even double of that if you choose to wear plate like the knights. Just take it as… hmmm, a little acclimatization before the academy starts, okay?”
Pointing to yet another flight of stairs leading upwards into the castle as Nathaniel finally reached the landing she was on, Weaver pointed to yet another flight of steps that lead upwards higher into the castle.
“This is where we part, love. Up that way are the cadet quarters. I’ve got to meet the rest of my team at the missions desk for a debrief and then head down for dinner. I’ll see you later, okay?”
Waving goodbye as she left, Nathaniel looked up at the steps he has yet to climb before sighing. You know, this seems more like that military college Matron Abby once told me about than a fearsome mercenary company.
Shrugging his shoulders, the boy started climbing the stairs. Well, onwards to glory, eh?