Birds greeted a new day as the sun peeked over the southern ridge of the valley, piercing the dew of morning that clung to the sprawling grass.

“GOOD MORNING RECRUITS!” Captain Lurron bellowed at the wall of grey standing before him.

The morning air was cold, and the bottom of Ren’s feet were still sore from the hike up to camp the previous day. But a thrill passed through him, a churning in his gut, an intensity to the beating of his heart. He stood there like the rest of them. Still. In formation.

“You’ve all come here for your own reasons. Some fools for money, some for glory, some for the benefits, some for the chance at one of these.” The captain held up a tiny red orb—a spiritual pill—and the silence grew intense and hungry amongst the recruits. “Some of you came for love of your country, for pride, to protect those you love, to learn and see more than what your backwater town can show you.

“Some came here because of family. Some came here to escape family. It doesn’t matter now. While you are in the service, this will be your family. You are all nameless until you are discharged. Your brothers and sisters in red and grey are who you will eat and sleep with, fight with, and who you may die with.”

The words hung heavy in the air. A few others in the audience shifted and paled, proving to Ren that he wasn’t the only one afraid.

“Not all of you were born here. Not all of you signed up for love of this land. But if you are going to be one of us, you need to be loyal. You need to see past the flaws of this country and into its heart. For a hundred years refugees have poured across our borders from the shattered empire. From the warring city states. From slavery. From towns that are now little more than memories. The Republic of Ardus is a shelter and a beacon of hope and freedom.

“Now that you have signed your contract, you are one of us until we tell you otherwise. You are a sword, a spear, a shield of Ardus. You are what stands between this great land and destruction.” Captain Lurron’s eyes traveled across the faces of the recruits, piercing.

“You may think my words dramatic or overblown, but I tell you they are not. It has been five-hundred years since the collapse of the Red Dragon Empire. Longer still since the great empress sat on the gilded throne. The wards that kept us safe from spirit beasts on the road, and the trade lines that ensured prosperity and opportunity, are fading. This is not new. We have seen this coming for many centuries, but now we face more threats. Our harbors have been cut off from trade by a surge of sea beasts and piracy. Scarcity of safety and resources has driven our countrymen to defect and prey on one another. These bandits pillage and murder, eating our great republic from within.

“You may have noticed shortages in the markets. Some goods are hard to find, others are gone entirely. This is only the beginning. The northern mountain pass to the spice road has been cut off by an incursion of the barbarian tribes who have descended from their peaks to prey on us. Many rumors pass throughout the taverns and tea shops of the Republic. I’ve heard stories of men ten feet tall who don’t bleed and clear city walls with a single bound. Unfortunately, these rumors aren’t as far from the truth as we’d like them to be.”

How could that be possible? Ren steadied his breathing and focused on keeping his Qi moving to push back the shadow that was creeping out of its corner in his soul to feast on his fear.

“That is why we are raising up worthy recruits to train as cultivators. Our best weapon to fight back. But these opportunities will be reserved for the most worthy of you. Assessment and Selection begins today. We will test your minds, your spirits, your hearts, and your power as warriors, for only the best belong in the red and grey. If you fail utterly you will be sent packing, and will have to find your own way home. If you distinguish yourself you will earn merit points to purchase these.” He held up the pill once more. “So give it your all!”

***

Ren’s feet scrambled and scraped through the sand as he dragged his body under the nest of barbed wires.

His head throbbed and his breakfast of barley soup threatened to spill from his mouth. But he kept pushing. The ground pressed the butterfly pin into his leg, a constant reminder. He couldn’t stop. He couldn’t turn back.

Grains crawled into his tunic and pants, sticking to his sweaty flesh, but he made it to the end of the sand pit and stood on quivering legs.

“Run Recruit!” shouted a demon in red and grey.

And he ran. Every step rubbed sand against his skin and ground his now surely popped and bleeding blisters against his sweat filled boots.

A big man passed him, bumping shoulders and knocking Ren to the ground. He spat a mouthful of dirt and grass and stood.

He ran.

He reached a horrible matrix of rings and bars hanging above the ground followed by a vertical net.

Flaming horse cock!

He leapt up and grabbed the first set of rings, swinging and launching to a beam, landing in a stumble that he salvaged by leaping to the next set of rings, only this time his hands slipped free and he plummeted to the ground.

Fuck!

He took it slower the next time, making it to the net and pulling himself over it, muscles screaming, before plummeting to the earth once more.

When he made it to his feet, one of the demons told him to run again. And though his lungs screamed and his limbs stabbed him with pain and his feet bled in his new military boots, he ran. He ran and ran, waiting for the demons to tell him he could stop, praying the demons would tell him it was over. He focused on the faces in his mind, on Mako and Asana, and Mom and Dad, on that extra weight in his pocket. When was this hell going to end?

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

“Stop.”

Ren collapsed. The demon—no, the examiner—knelt over him.

“You’re weaker than a desert mouse, but you’ve got spirit kid. Get yourself over to the refreshment station and rest. You have a couple hours before your written exam.”

Ren forced a smile at the man and, his legs failing him, was forced to crawl off of the testing grounds. Humiliating.

But at least it was over.

As he neared the refreshment station another pain spiked into him. The serpent’s shadow.

Blood Cleansing Wheel. He pushed his thrumming Qi through his meridians, breathing in a circle, pushing and pulling internal energy with each breath. His lungs complained. They wanted air, they wanted to pant and huff and puff. But he kept it up and soon enough the pain receded and the serpent’s shadow coiled up again.

At the recovery tent they toweled off his sweat and brought him tea. Ginger and cardamom and a hint of mint soothed his urge to purge his guts, and by the time he had finished and a bowl of barley soup was placed in his hands, he was ready for it.

Thankfully, he found the written exam that followed much easier than the physical one had been.

***

After a week, all of the thousands of men and women who were part of Ren’s recruit class had completed their testing.

“Recruit Rinja, physical: sixty five, mental: fifty four, spirit: thirty seven.” Captain Lurron stood before the recruits once more. “Thank you for coming. You are dismissed.”

There had been no official test for spirit, yet this was the twentieth recruit failed for having scored low.

Ren prayed to the Holy Light, the Cleansing Fire, the Great Spirit of War, to Whoever was listening. He couldn’t fail.

“Recruit Ren.” His attention snapped back up. “Physical: fifty one.”

A few chuckles passed through the group. So far, his was the lowest passing physical exam score.

“Mental: eighty nine.”

At least that shut up some of the laughter.

“Spirit: ninety one.”

What? That had to be wrong. That was one of the highest scores he’d heard. There was no way he scored that high in a category in which he didn’t even know what was being tested.

“Welcome to the Northern Brigade, Recruit.”

He made it! He made it! Ren couldn’t hide his smile. Now he just had to make sure he didn’t get kicked out. Hopefully basic training would be considerably easier than the exams had been.

***

Ren was feeling so good that he finally worked up the courage to offer to cook for the group.

“We all made it!” Bahmul was more talkative than usual tonight. Probably something to do with the flask Gunney had been passing around.

“Of course we did,” said Hamsa. “I’m in this group after-all. No son of swords leaves their allies behind.”

Gunney just laughed and clapped the haughty boy on the back.

“Okay,” said Ren. He was nervous. “Food’s ready.”

He filled everyone’s bowls, saving his own for last, and waited, looking at Hamsa.

The boy sniffed it and raised an eyebrow, before sipping some of the broth.

“Bless the Light! An edible meal!” He dug in like Ren had never seen him do with any other meal.

There were moans and groans of pleasure filled agreement from Bahmul and Rhami.

Gunney got a spoonful with meat in it and took a bite. “Honestly can’t taste a difference. My stew is just as good. If anything, I think the meat is a little undercooked.”

“Ye don listen ta tae rock-swallower, dish ish a damn fine gruel,” said Rhami through a mouthful.

Hamsa was noticeably friendlier to Ren the rest of the night, and he felt rather hopeful for the first time since the serpent had attacked.

“So what units are you all aiming for?” asked Gunney. “We of the north are always brought in to the scouting teams.”

Hamsa opened his mouth, but the rough man cut him off. “We all know your track, son of swords.”

The handsome boy reddened, a vein pulsing on his neck, and visibly pushed down his anger. “You dare-”

“Yes, yes. We all know you’ll soon be in the shiny armor giving orders, but until then I’ll talk to you as I please.”

The two men glared at one another.

Rhami finished licking her bowl clean then her gruff singsong voice cracked the silence, “I was touched by tae light.”

“A Paladin then? Wow. You don’t seem the pious sort, Rhami. I suppose that means you’ll be receiving one of those fancy pills then.”

She just shrugged and scraped at the pot for dregs of stew.

They were all shocked, if the slack jaws said anything. Even Hamsa.

“Intel,” Bahmul finally said between bites of stew, pushing up his spectacles and flicking through the pages of a book with his free hand.

They all looked to Ren, who looked to his stew. “I- I’m going to try to be a medic. Hopefully a surgeon some day.” It was a no brainer. He needed a specialist role to make enough to even put a dent in his family’s debt, and he’d hopefully learn enough to be able to take over his father’s treatments when he got out of the service. The serpent had made the decision even easier. He’d already escaped death once, he didn’t want to risk it again on the front lines.

Besides, he’d never been the strong type, nor had he ever loved Ardus. Sitara had been the only thing that he liked about his life in Katarn when they settled down there.

Hamsa took a look at Ren’s shaky hands, but said nothing.

Gunney was never one to hold back though. “Damn. That’s some ambition. You some kind of medical genius?”

Ren reached into his pack and pulled out the large medical tome. “Trying to be.”

“Well, good luck to you, kid. I’ve heard that’s a hard test. Something like one in every hundred pass.”

One in a hundred, how was-

Hamsa mercifully interrupted his thoughts. “Well I guess none of us is aiming for the simple life of the spear and shield and loot.”

“Loot?”

“Oh ya. Foot soldiers don’t make much in wages, but if they ever get posted to a raid, there are always the spoils of war.” His face screwed up in disgust. “Hardly better than banditry if you ask me.”

The conversation continued for some time, as Ren pondered what was to come. He had to make it into the med squad. If he didn’t-

No, thinking like that wouldn’t help anything. He’d just do his best starting tomorrow when basic training began. He’d prove himself.

His night was still full of bloody dreams, of gaping maws and pitch black scales, of bodies, and that pressure that stopped even his heart. But mixed into the mire of crimson and shadow was a glimmer of light. Things might be okay.