The sun restored its position over the lush valleys, dispersing the gloom that had before plagued the night, as the morning assembly had begun. The air resonated with the resounding shouts of instructors along and the vibrating thuds of heavy footfalls, all emanating from the stone walls that belonged to the weary fortress.
As the boys, donning their tunics, formed a line and then joined it in turn, with Vasil’s group trailing behind, each member showing signs of immense fatigue. Yet, amidst the weariness that weighed upon their heads, Vasil stood out, his eyes wide open despite the evident lack of sleep. His gaze wandered, looking beyond his allied mercenaries, and staring off into the sky.
However, his thinking wasn’t as vacant as his stare suggested. ‘Where is he?’ His mind echoed with that question. He was the only one to return from the harrowing event of the previous night, and the uncertainty bore its roots in his mind, refusing to release its grip.
Regardless, the march proceeded, with the sound of their footsteps echoing through the weathered stone walls. As they approached the underside of an overpass, they proceeded with no trouble, with the exception being Vasil. A chilly sensation was felt like water droplets trickling down his back, with the source coming from above.
Vasil hesitated briefly, witnessing a horrid sight, standing directly before a young boy’s bloodied and severed corpse. A horrifying image was imprinted into his mind; the torso bore a big sign meant to represent the word ‘mutiny’, scars marred the back, with arms missing just above the elbow, sliced in a jagged manner, and the legs twisted at inconceivable angles. Despite the disfigurement, there was similarity to the face’s features with the boy from the night before.
The boy behind him grew impatient, and with a push on Vasil’s back, he spoke out with annoyance, “Move it, grunt-” however, he was cut short.
“DON’T T-TOUCH ME” Vasil managed to utter the words before even turning around, his voice trembling with fear. He looked at the boy with a frightened gaze, his eyes portraying disgust in every direction. Shivering, he rubbed his arms with his opposing hand in a futile attempt to seek self-comfort.
The boy’s confused look betrayed all of his emotions, but before he could react, the line began to move once more, forcing him to follow along.
- - -
As the march came to a halt, Vasil became ensnared in a maelstrom of thoughts and emotions. The voices of the instructors once again drowned out by the tumultuous clamour emanating from his mind, obscuring his surroundings. Vivid images of the events from the previous night and the horrid aftermath were on the forefront of his mind.
The cacophony continued to rise, and his heart became entangled in the strings of guilt, eventually concluding that he was to blame for the tragedy, further deepening the depths of his psyche. The relentless waves of self-doubts would bring his world to a halt.
In due time, he became motionless with the noise around him fading, becoming ignorant to all distractions surrounding him, and preferring to forego thinking for the sake of serenity. Yet in spite of his attempts to shut out the world around him, he would find himself unable to ignore the shocking sensation of a hand grabbing hold of his own.
His confusion swelled as he was forcibly dragged towards an unknown location, with his left hand strongly firmly grasped. The abductor’s short black hair had made it unable for Vasil to discern his face, further heightening his apprehensive anxious state. Despite Vasil’s attempts to escape the man’s grip, they were soon rendered futile by his outmatching strength.
Within moments, they traverse through a doorway that acts as the entrance to a dimly lit chamber. As they entered, Vasil was abruptly hurdled against the stone wall that stood behind them as they entered, compelling him to promptly shut his eyes tightly as a shock of pain jolted through his back.
The accent that formerly suffused his surroundings was now replaced with a deafening quiet.
“...You will tell me.. What happened last night, now.” The man broke the silence with a piercing tone, his voice resounding in the empty room.
Vasil’s eyes gradually relaxed, eventually becoming unsealed. The face that laid directly in front of him was a familiar one. “Reiziko..?” He asked, puzzled by his actions.
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A loud bang resounded.
The chamber reverberated with a powerful thud as Reiziko’s fist collided against rough wall. Vasil shuddered, his body trembling in response. “TELL ME-” His voice began loud, its intensity dulled slightly by a hefty breath, “Tell me, what happened with Thomas..” His voice, now soft and sorrowful but it still carried a hint of rage.
Vasil's expression brimmed with confusion, “...Who’s Thomas?” he whispered with a lack of confidence. The chamber became quiet once more.
Reiziko interrupted the stillness once again and with gritted teeth he frustratingly remarked, “THOMAS.. He was within our group…” He paused briefly to gather his thoughts and slowly pressed on “Last night, after William inquired you.. He chased after-”
Reiziko’s sentence was cut short as his remarks roused the vivid imagery that had left an imprint in Vasil’s mind. His stare harborbed a new terrible complexity, and his eyes became devoid of any glimmer. He then spoke, his voice carrying a sinister tone “Thomas… Yes, I r-remember that fellow…” he paused briefly, and laid down on his bum “H-he saved me, really… or rather I killed him…”
Reiziko’s eyes widen with shock, unable to grasp the words that were spoken directly in front of him before Vasil spoke again.
“I mean.. If only I wasn’t so weak…” he clamped his lips tight and said, “I’d-d be the one hanging right now, huh?”
He had finished speaking with Reiziko remaining motionless after hearing those words. Vasil abruptly let out a discreet sniffle which quickly grew into an endless stream of tears.
Reiziko observed, having grasped the bare minimum, but deeply he knew that Vasil was not to blame. He clenched his fist but his grip started to loosen as soon as his anger dissipated. He let out a big breath and spoke, “Listen Vasil..” the solitary walls that surrounded them made his next words heavier upon his soul. “I.. knew Thomas and knew that he probably caused his own doom…”
Vasil lifted his head from his cramped position listening intently to Reiziko’s words. The light bouncing off the crevices in the walls revealed bloodshot red eyes that were the result of his tears. Reiziko's face was illuminated by the morning sun rising from the doorframe as he held an open hand in front of him.
“Whatever may have happened… Your inability is not at fault.” His face contrasted vividly against the dark room, yet despite this, Vasil’s gaze remained fixed on the person standing behind Reiziko. A beautiful young maiden dressed in a brilliant white chiffon that complemented her slim figure; her curly blonde hair stood at shoulder’s length but in a cruel twist, the shadows obscured her face.
When he blinked, the figure disappeared, confusion took over him and yet he paid no heed as there were more pressing matters. Reiziko remained on the verge of reverting his offer before Vasil reached outwardly to grab his open hand.
Reiziko studied the young frail boy as he lifted him up, attempting to comprehend the rationale behind Thomas’ reckless behaviour, his heart harbouring the same quiet rage he felt mere seconds before. Nonetheless, his calm demeanour was maintained intact in front of the tormented boy.
“Vasil… I need you to tell me everything that transpired last night.” His voice was tinged with aimless wrath.
- - -
Another day of training pursues and the same troubles persist. Once again, the boys fall in line. Standing shoulder to shoulder, the difference in physique became apparent between them and Vasil. His frail body will make for another day of tortuous training.
The group's hierarchy had cemented, and Vasil's place had been determined to be near last, yet in spite of that, his anxieties appeared to ease slightly. His usual pale visage had been replaced with brilliance in contrast to his grim surroundings. After shedding the burden of seclusion, his spirit yearns to aid his ally, even in the most menial activity.
“Attentiiiion!” roared the man, clad in full plated armour save for a helm, addressing the gathering. “From today and onwards, I- Gethin Farson, shall be your new general instructor.”
The man, whose blonde hair swayed with the wind, stood proudly before the group. Regardless, the boys were preoccupied with a more dire matter. Murmurs arose from within the ranks, all centred on William’s absence and Thomas’ mutiny.
There were several names spoken in the chatter, but one jumped out to Vasil: his own. After all, William's final inquiry from the previous night was directed at him. But Vasil kept his ground against the rising tension for as long as it held.
"Silence!" Gethin exclaimed loudly, slamming a wooden stick into the ground with a crash. "I will have no one speak without permission!"
The gathering went silent once more, the eeriness of today’s happenings would have to permeate in their minds for a while longer. Still, their tasks beckoned, and their training required to begin.
“We shall commence with sword training.” Proclaimed the persistent instructor, determined not to squander another second. “Everyone behind me.”