The original course for the first years was simple. They were meant to clear the remnants of battlefields after the Stone Lotus Guard and the other stationed Centurions battled and assumedly won. None of them would be fighting anything other than small fry as Sigmar had once told Ryke. A few Fera, mostly beasts, nothing beyond their prowess. With nearly fifty people no less, they’d have the manpower to cover quite an expansive area within the stone forest, now known to them as the Saorla Forest. It would be easy with few risks.
Even then, leaders would have to be chosen. They’d be split into groups ten to eleven and then they’d be given small regions of the forest to cleanse. Now? They only had twenty three people. Just as much space to cover. Just as many groups. One group of seven, two groups of eight. Leaders were even more important. Darriwil would lead the group of seven, but the other two groups were left to find their own leaders. This was the conversation the youth were all having with the instructors while Ryke quickly fell asleep. Now it was the one they were having with him.
Most of them immediately gravitated to the people who had led them back to the Bastion after the fall. The second group remained peaceful so more debate occurred over just who would be leader, but most of Ryke’s group unanimously decided it was him. They had just come over to deliver this good news when they heard his screams.
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“But why are they even still sending us out-”
“I’m not sure. There was quite the argument going on when we left.”
“About?”
“The regions we’d be sent to. Sigmar insisted he got the choice, the Stone Lotus Praetorian agreed even though some of his men didn’t.”
Ryke and Caius talked back and forth in the canteen, the duo scarfing food down as they spoke. The meat was all bland and the grain was rough, but it restored their energy. Better yet, they still received the Fera meat allocated to them, causing the only smile Ryke’s had since coming down here. Apparently their Lanista had quite the sway.
“Some of the Stone Lotus Guard insisted we should fall under them as Centurion Candidates, while Sigmar insisted we were his men until we graduated. We didn’t want to get involved so we left before we could ask why we’re not just staying safely here.”
“Right..”
Ryke happily swallowed down the last of his food, picked up the portions meant for Fromir and left with Caius to return to their rooms. The smile on his face grew wider when he saw Lycus waiting anxiously at his door.
“Lycus!”
The hug was brief, but the relief he felt lingered even as they spoke inside. Part of him felt he couldn’t be sure who was left until he saw for himself. A weight suddenly lifted from his shoulders. It was a miracle that those he knew a little better survived, but those he didn’t know that did die..
He felt the guilt.
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Numerous first years stood in the small room, cramped against the walls. The distinct scent of disinfectant and iron filled the space as they waited solemnly. Ryke, Caius, Lycus, Maximus, Ofrir, Kievra and two of the survivors from Ryke’s group, Ravi and Drisnae. The two were both bowmen like Sol, but didn’t use his distinct set of dual daggers. They each instead stuck to a shortsword when range stopped being an option. This left their group rather balanced in terms of composition, and they were all luckily familiar with each other. Mostly.
Ravi and Drisnae appeared to be twins. Ravi, the brother, had short brown hair while the sister Dirsnae tied hers back. The duo sported an unfamiliar set of grey eyes, though they seemingly retained perfect sight. Knowing the circumstances of his own unusual eye colour, he didn’t pry at all even with the incredible curiosity biting at him. Their features seemed rather sharp and gaunt overall, which further confused him considering they’d definitely be allowed to eat their fill at the Ludus.
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Thus, the eight people who went together to meet Sigmar had been chosen. Finding him waiting the next day, none of them bothered asking why they were still being sent out, only what they were meant to do. The Ludus currently was their only method of survival, and jumping from that boat would be a death sentence.
“This will be short.” The older man laid out a map across the table, a rather general depiction of the Saorla Forest and it’s regions. “You are meant to bring your squad towards these locations.” Sigmar pointed to three places. “The closest is this small clearing. Battle cleanup. You might not have to fight at all, only a few Fera..”
His expression shifted slightly when he pointed somewhere else. “This battle was between the Stone Lotus Guard and an unknown Devil. The remnants there will be stronger. Keep your mind clear.” Sigmar stated, his gaze lingering on the last place. “This place is for herb gathering. The heat will be nearly unbearable, but don’t take off your armour and certainly don’t take off the masks.”
“Masks?” Ryke piped up.
“Yes. Masks.” Sigmar tossed the boy a small sack filled with odd shapes. The inside revealed eight smooth curved masks, oval shapes that fit over the entirety of the face. Dark grey and sleek, he flipped them over to see the fine runes and carvings on its surface.
“Air there is toxic to both the skin and lungs. This.” Sigmar handed them a paper depicting a nine-leafed, scarlet herb with patterns like flowing water. “Is the Ignar Peony. Do not consume it. Ryke, if you feel a fight you cannot win is inevitable-” Sigmar paused, moving to stand over the golden eyed boy, his stern figure looming.
“Eat one and only one.”
“Understood, sir!”
“Lastly. You keep what you bring back.”
Ryke beamed, though no one was quite sure why. The group quickly returned to the Residence Wing, took an hour to refine the vitality from their prior meal and then took up their arms and armour, energised for the hell that was to come. The fresh air in the lungs outside the Bastion filled them with vigour, the cheery greetings as they left the Bastion gate almost made them forget just what happens beyond it.
They were very quickly reminded.
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“The left! They’re coming from the left!”
“Fera on the right!”
“Caius, handle it!”
Ryke slashed out with his glaive, the blade meeting the Fera's thick hide as he bought time for Caius to move. Stepping back to avoid a stomp from a hoof, he spun the haft of the glaive and slammed the flat of the blade into the side of the beast's head, forcing it back and giving Caius the chance to leave freely to engage the third Fera. Dozens of beasts had surrounded them, led by the three Fera circling them. They had revealed themselves one by one, tricking the first years into using less strength than needed.
If they had all focused on the first one, it would be dead. Instead it’s hardly injured and two more arrived. Ryke frowned as he knocked the base of the glaive through a creature’s skull and sent the body flying at the Fera’s eyes. The beast swiped the carcass away from its face, only to be met with the glaive flying through the air behind it. It’s head jerked and the blade cleaved through it’s eye socket, just barely leaving the beasts vitals intact-
An arrow flew through the sky, pushing the glaive deeper. The tiger-like Fera roared in pain, slashing out at anything near it for its last few moments before it collapsed to the ground amidst the pile of bodies it left behind. He pulled the glaive out from its skull, rushing towards the turtle like creature fighting against Caius.
Ofrir made his way over at the same time, the three of them working together to get around the beast’s defences and to its flesh. Caius finally thrust his sword forward, piercing its skull and rooting it to the ground. The rest of the group managed to cleanly kill the last Fera, leaving the clearing filled with death. The only life that remained was that which took it.
This was the first location they were meant to go to, arriving after two days of travel. The trip itself was easy. Difficulty came only when they had entered the first clearing amidst the Saorla Forest where a Fera lay in wait. It was bait; which led to the half a day long battle as the squad slowly killed off the beasts so as to afford an attack on the leaders. The lack of any death was luck, and hardly anything more.
Ryke set up his tent in the middle and motioned the rest to circle him with theirs as he stepped inside. Fromir lay beside him eating from one of the Fera carcasses, the creature benefitting the most from their trip. He could hardly afford to take most of their meat with them this early on, so the scraps and leftovers got eaten by the Trainees’ companions.
Sitting down, the boy breathed out. His vitality surged like waves as it flowed towards his lungs. It seeped in with the air he breathed. Just a little more. One more push. The vitality gathered into one tidal wave, crashing over his lungs and encompassing them totally. The ever persistent energy slowly overcame the flesh.
Ryke breathed out, and felt as if he had entered a whole new world.