The train whistle blew and the locomotive ground to a halt. Simon tapped Lukas on the leg as the other passengers disembarked. His smile was reassuring and warm. "Ready?"

Lukas smiled with faux bravery. "I guess I have to be." Simon ruffled his hair as he stood up.

They departed the train station in a bustle of grey uniforms and steam. The soldiers and officers reminded Lukas of flocks of songbirds, drab grey wool coats slashed with colorful belts and armbands that showed rank. Simon’s belt was deep blue with a single gold strip.

Vendors lined the corridor hawking food, trinkets and personal luxuries, eager to grab any last coins from a soldier returning to base. Simon kept a hand between Lukas' shoulder blades, guiding him around the muck puddles and wagon ruts.

It smelled like chaos. Mud and manure mixed with sweat and oil, spices and steam. Each Alpha and Omega had their own scent as well, as unique as a fingerprint. So many discordant scents made his nose numb.

Simon's hand on his back grounded him and kept him from panicking within the crowds of people. He listened intently as Simon pointed to landmarks. "The first thing to do is to get deloused, outfitted and get your pretty new tattoo." Simon pointed at a large tent complex on the edge of camp. "My Alphas say that the lice soap actually helps cut down on all the other smells in camp, because it stinks so badly that you can only focus on it. Look forward to that, I guess. They'll give you a mage test too and depending on the results they'll choose which unit you'll be assigned to."

Lukas stopped dead in his tracks, causing a few soldiers behind them to almost collide with him. They spat a few muffled curses and walked around. Lukas clutched at the throat of his homespun shirt. "I thought I was going to be in your unit! You said that I was yours."

Simon clicked his tongue and pulled Lukas to the side of the busy corridor. "If you're not a mage, then yes, you're mine to train and command. That's the privilege given to an officer during recruitment leave." Simon held up his hand to stop Lukas' next question. "If you have the mage spark, then the mage corps will take you and I can't challenge them." Simon smiled as Lukas fretted, tangling his fingers in the laces at his throat. "I'm sure you're a magic null just like I am. Don't worry."

How could he not worry? The idea of being thrown headlong into this chaos and confusion without Simon's guiding hand, without his calm instruction was horrifying. If he wanted to stay alive and well, he needed to stay by Simon's side. "But what if I'm not? I don't want to be a mage. I want to be with you! That’s the only thing I want!"

“Well then.” Simon's eyes softened and he turned them away from the crowd, shielding Lukas from prying eyes with his body behind a vendor's tent. "I'll tell you how to get past their test. This is a secret that only two people on base know.” Simon lowered his voice. “The crystal they'll hand you is bullshit. It's just a pretty crystal. They're looking for that bright mage glow." Simon touched Lukas' eyelids with two fingers of his hand, closing Lukas’ eyes. The lids fluttered underneath his fingertips like baby bird hearts. "The test proctor is going tell you to close your eyes and think about your favorite cow or something dumb like that, then they'll order you to open your eyes after they root around in your brain. That’s when they’ll see the glow."

"In my brain? They can read minds?" Lukas gasped, pinned to the tent wall by two gentle fingertips as effectively as iron manacles.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"Yes. The highest level mages can do that. They don't want people to know that they can do things other than simple blessings and curses." Simon murmured in his ear, the heat of his breath searing into Lukas' soul.

Some men didn't need magic to be dangerous, Lukas thought as he thickened in his breeches.

"They can't control what you think about. Think about someone you want to protect, concentrate on how much you want to keep them safe. If you have any magic spark that will put up a barrier that the proctor can't see through and it will mask any eye glow. If you’re a magic null, it won’t matter." Simon took his fingers away and blew on Lukas' eyelashes. Lukas blinked his eyes as Simon gestured with a flourish. "No glow, no mage." Simon smirked as if amused by a small mischief. "And as a fun aside, it will really piss him off."

"Do I want to make a dangerous mage mad at me?" Lukas ventured, a bit flustered by the sudden intimacy of the lesson.

Simon shrugged with one shoulder. "If you're going to be with me, then you better get used to being hated by mages."

"Any other words of wisdom?" Lukas snapped, still swamped with anxiety at the thought of being separated.

"The tattoo gun does sting a little. Don't wiggle or you'll have wavy numbers like I do." He tapped his own chest below his right clavicle. "Look I know I dropped a lot of new information on your lap. It's okay if you're scared or nervous.” He hooked his arm around Lukas’ shoulders and propelled them through the crowd towards the large tent flying the Imperial Crest. “I'll be waiting here if you have any questions. If anyone gives you shit, direct them my way. Now line up, take a deep breath and welcome to the army, my lad." Simon smiled and flipped him a jaunty little salute as Lukas stepped through the tent flaps into his new life.

A grumpy man sitting behind a desk with ink stained fingers and a stack of papers gruffly barked, "Name, designation, sponsoring officer?"

"Lukas Braddock, Alpha, Major Simon du Trops." He was happy that he didn’t stutter, but at the sound of his accent the clerk rolled his eyes. He scribbled with his fountain pen and ripped a form from the stack of papers.

"Okay hayseed, take this form and head to the medical and delousing tent."

"The what?"

"The medical and delousing tent. The green one. Over there. Next!" The clerk hooked his thumb over his shoulder.

"Oh, thank you sir." Lukas said, immediately forgotten by the clerk.

The man staffing the entrance at the next tent was just as abrupt. "Strip. Throw your clothes into the basket. Grab the lice soap bag and get in the showers. If you don't scrub like your mama told you to make the kitchen floor shine, we'll do it for you." He let his gaze drag over Lukas and the predatory promise gleamed in his eyes. "After you get all squeaky clean, show the medic at the other end of the showers. He'll look at your body, give you your uniform and boots. Then he’ll send you to the tattoo tent."

Lukas was already stripped out of his boots and homespun shirt, he hopped on one leg as he struggled with his breeches."Yes sir, thank you sir! Should I salute too?"

The man snorted. "Goddess, aren't you adorable? Get moving sweet cheeks."

The lice soap worked wonders to clear his nose after his retching stopped.

The uniform was the finest thing Lukas had ever worn. Even his smallclothes were finely woven, not that he’d ever worn them before on the farm. He wriggled his toes in the boots as the tattooist applied the last touches to the tattoo beneath his right clavicle. It hadn’t hurt as much as he’d feared, perhaps Simon had underestimated his tolerance for pain. Nothing quite felt as bad as stepping in a buried hornets’ nest while plowing the vegetable plot. The tattooist nodded in approval. "Number 47854. Nice job holding still. Keep it dry until the pigment paste and bandage falls off. Your skin is so dark I had to use extra strength ink, so it's gonna be itchy. Report to the mage test tent. The blue one."

Lukas buttoned up his fine new undershirt and gulped back his anxiety. This was his new life. Simon had given him the trick to fool the mage proctor; he had to trust that it would work. Maybe the mage would be as bored and uninterested with the test as the rest of the intake tent staff had been.