Night had come again, several to be sure as the weeks had passed. The Lunar Guard once more found themselves in the large empty throne room. Neal was, on time for a change. In fact, he had been on time for the last several shifts, surprising all who were present, not the least of which was himself. His armor seemed to be properly polished and by all appearances he looked to almost be a model guard, aside from his bad posture, made worse by the sudden strikes and blows on the back of said armor.
“You seem sturdier, human!” The minotaur boasted between repeated strikes to Neal’s back.
As much as the impact annoyed him, it was becoming almost impossible not to smile at least a little when she did it. The minotaurs were a very physical race. There was really only one choice when dealing with them and their antics. You had to laugh and smile when they included you. Because If you didn’t, they’d just strike all the harder at it next time.
“Yeah, I guess my exercise routine is paying off.” Neal smiled at his hard work. It had only been two weeks, but he already saw some improvements. His legs were just a bit stronger, his speed a bit higher, and his gut tucked in just a pinch more than before. At least, that’s how it felt in the armor. It could have been wishful thinking on his part too. It was after all only a bit more than a dozen days, but the way he stood showed the world that he was at least a little proud of himself for trying. It was a pleasant change, he thought.
“Ha! Maybe I should join you.” Mith gave her usual smirk that made it hard to know if she was being serious or not.
“Exercise, you mean the weekly training Sable put’s us though?” Hastam, the other wolf in the squad, seemed strangely interested in the conversation. It was peculiar since he never talked or interacted with much of anyone, at least not that Neal had seen.
Since they never interacted, Neal had never noticed it before, but Hastam had two different colored eyes. It was subtle, and hard to catch in the moonlight. But, here and now, one was clearly green and the other an off shade of blue. For a moment, Neal’s own eyes began to water as a whiff of nostalgia came over him. Something about Hastam caused him to remember the husky he had in high school, the dog he left behind when he went off to college. The nostalgia quickly grew a bitter note as he remembered, he’d never see that dog again. Shaking his head, he tried to remove the unpleasant thoughts.
“No, not at all.” The human briefly rubbed at his eyes while continuing to shake his head. “What I’m doing is different. I focus mostly on stamina. You know like running further or being able to do multiple pull ups without tiring myself out. Things like that.”
The wolf cocked his head ever so slightly, again, another pang hit Neal’s heart. “But why not just focus on strength? Why would you need to do the same thing over?” Hastam asked.
Neal forced a small laugh, “Hah, I feel like I’ve had this conversation before. Strength is important, sure, but if you can’t keep it up then it doesn’t matter. Wars aren’t won in a single punch, they’re a slog and slow march. They take stamina more than just raw power.”
Now several of the other guards were staring at him. It was an uncomfortable feeling, being the center of attention in a crowd that didn’t quite favor him to begin with.
Still, Neal swallowed his trepidation and continued, “I know things are different here, but it just feels too lax. Like it’s all about appearances and looking strong over having real strength.”
A loud and aggressive huff came from down the formation. It was the kind of sound that could only come from someone stocky and small. “Then you should bloody quit, human.” Like venom, spittle dripped form Toss Carraige’s words and mouth, particularly the last one. Dwarves were a proud race, they didn’t appreciate being lectured to at the best of times, and any interaction they had with a human was often a bad time to start with.
The dwarf huffed again and took in a deep breath, “I’m not going to be told that the Guard isn’t doing things, ‘the right way’. Not by some damnable human. You don’t like the way the Guard operates then leave!”
At first Neal was taken aback, he didn’t expect that level of vitriol from a simple and benign statement, at least from his perspective anyway. He knew he wasn’t the smartest, and certainly didn’t have all the answers. But he was at least entitled to an opinion, wasn’t he?
“Attention!” Teuta called out, effectively ending the conversation. Sable moved to the front of the formation.
The captain glared down the line straight towards Neal. It seemed like he was destained to be chewed out about something again. Instead, Sable turned to face the whole of his squad. “Princess Luna is indisposed for the next few days at least, possibly longer. There will not be a night court. Guards you will handle your normal patrols and routines around the castle.”
“Rookie Neal, since you mentioned enjoying endurance activities I have a special assignment.” The strangely happy tone in the captain’s voice caused a shiver down Neal’s spine. He wasn’t going to like whatever was coming.
Nor did he in the end.
The next afternoon came, and the human rubbed at his sore lower back. It still hurt from Sable’s special assignment last night. The captain had given him the all-important task of scrubbing the titles in the great hall by hand, with an undersized brush. A part of him was grateful it wasn’t an actual toothbrush, but these repeated demerits were getting almost comically cliche at this point. ‘But that was last night’, he thought. With a twist he popped his back out and shook his head, it was ‘time to leave that behind and focus on today’. He had hoped that if he continued to improve himself and clean up his act, that Sable would accept him as an actual guard. Begrudgingly perhaps, but still, that would have been enough.
The fact is, he still had no idea what the point of all of this even was. Just that it felt right. In a way that he couldn’t really explain.
A breeze blew by him, as he stood on the track head in his normal grey hoodie and canvas-like pants. Clouds speckled the sky, occasionally their passing blotting out the sun, causing the cool day to quickly turn cold and then back again once they passed. It wasn’t a bad day to focus on running, though he did want to get some other exercises afterwards, back pain permitting.
Like most days during his off time, he was wearing the same hoodie he came into this world with, a simple gray affair. It had the fading and cracked letters “ROTC” on it, along with the other subtle signs of a well-worn piece of clothing. He hadn’t seen anything quite like it in this world and didn’t know what he would do when it finally gave out. Perhaps a tailor here could repair it or duplicate it? Though, he hadn’t seen anything resembling polyester here.
Neal’s head turned about looking around almost longingly for someone. After duty last night at the sleeping pig, Mith reaffirmed she was still interested in joining him. Yet, his promised partner was nowhere to be seen yet. He’d give her a few more minutes. Like him, she tended to be late on occasion. With the minor pain in his back, he could use the extra time to stretch out, pulling at his legs, his arms and of course his back. He’d have to be careful not to overdo it, but at the very least it felt good.
Bending over he pulled his back muscle, subtle popping and crunching echoed in his ears. Thankfully it wasn’t the sound of his joints but rather crunching of grass and gavel. It was a familiar sound, like a creature that was heavier than she was tall. Relaxing his mind and muscles he braced for what he knew was coming. A loud thwack cracked along his upper back, with enough force to shift him forward as it struck again a few more times.
Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.
“Nice view, human.” Mith snorted as she hit him.
A slight warmth filled his cheeks as he pulled himself up. If they had been back on Earth, Neal was confident that it could have brought her up on harassment charges and maybe even a court marshal. They were not however, and there was little he could do but glare at her cocky smile. At least his gaze was enough to get her to turn her head away with an embarrassed blush.
“So, what did you plan to do? Some heavy lifting? Strength training?” Mith rambled on several activities that she already excelled at, with that same cocky expression she always seemed to have.
With a sigh and his own twisted smile, he told her exactly what she didn’t want to hear, “I was going to spend most of the day running and working on my stamina.”
“Of course you were.” The slight drop in her face accompanied the dejection and apathetic acceptance in her voice. It wasn’t what she wanted to do but was still willing to try and learn from the recruit. Plus, any time she could spend with him was welcome in her eyes.
The first lap was easy enough. More than once Mith pulled ahead of him, before slowing back down to match his pace. “Damn it all. I think it hurts more to go slower. I don’t know how you do it.”
“You get used to the pain. Eventually it becomes a burning. Then, just a discomfort. Finally, it just blends into the background like a tingling static.” One of the way Neal had learned to ignore his own fatigue was to create a mantra in his head he would repeat. What he said was true, but it was also a constant thought that ran though his mind.
‘Embrace the pain. Feel it burn away. Fading into the background. Embrace the pain…’ He rarely said it aloud, but this thought would keep him moving, matching the beat of his steps. Left foot, ‘Embrace’; right foot, ‘Feel’; left foot ‘fade’, and then repeat. A metronome of defiance at his own body’s weakness.
A mile and four laps later, Mith had enough. “Void and mist take you human…” Mith slowed to a lumbering walk before collapsing to the side of the track, not far from where she had the week earlier.
“You should at least keep walking. It’s not good for your body to just stop like that.” Neal called back as he kept moving. Though, as he thought about it, he knew that warning was true for humans. Was it also true for minotaur’s and other races? He didn’t know, but it still seemed sound. Looking back, he saw her lumbering forward, forcing herself to walk while mumbling some curses under her breath. A few no doubt aimed at himself.
With a smile, he ignored them and continued, eventually lapping her.
“Damn you human.” She called out, picking up her pace a bit as he passed.
“Come on! You had a chance to catch your breath. Try and do another lap.” He encouraged her
From the distance, he could almost hear her cry and whine. It was amusing, and if he was honest to himself cute to see the otherwise strong warrior breaking down over a simple run. Still, she did try, he’d give her that. With a light jog Mith picked up her legs and began to pace with Neal once more. His pace slowed slightly allowing her to catch up.
“Gods. I can’t do this.” She continued to whine.
“Sure, you can.” He encouraged as she slowly caught up to his pace, “You’re doing it now.” He continued watching her get closer, “Come on guardsman. You going to let a pathetic human beat you?” Finally he was yelling next to himself as she caught up and matched his pace.
“I don’t think I can make another lap.” She wheezed, yet beyond the blush and pain filled face, there was a smirk of defiance. Despite her own words, she’d make another lap; Somehow.
Hours later and again, the Lunar Gaurd squad was assembled. It would be another night sans the princess.
Sable walked down the line of his squad, pausing to stare at, “Mithril Hammer. Why are you barely standing?”
Mith stood or attempted to stand on legs that felt more like something between dough and wet noodles. She couldn’t be sure which, but she knew it had to be one of those two. Possibly dough filled with steaming meat and potatoes. That would explain why they also felt hot and lumpy. Maybe that’s just what her stomach was thinking. She was unfathomably famished from the earlier run.
Sable glared at her dazed and drooling expression before she realized he was waiting for some kind of response. With a quick wipe she rubbed the drool away and apologized, “Sorry sir, my legs are just a bit sore today, I was… practicing earlier.” She glanced around, afraid he’d see through her lie. Though, was it really a lie, she wondered.
The dark furred wolf’s ears twitched at that and his eyes relaxed. For a moment, it almost looked like he was, smiling? Did he do that?
“Excellent work, Mithril Hammer!” The black wolf’s black muzzle was broken by a sudden white streak of teeth. Against all prior experience, he was in fact smiling. At her.
“The rest of you could learn a thing from our guardsman here!” His smile up turned into a scowl as he glared at Neal, “Particularly you, Recruit.”
For her positive pre-work performance, Mith was given a relatively light role for the night in guarding the empty court. She wasn’t sure if the ease was worth the boredom as she struggled to stay awake. Though, she did appreciate watching Neal scrub the floor around the room. “Hey, you missed a spot.” She smirked at the annoyed guard.
Night dragged on this way. Given all the cleaning work he’d been doing, Neal was starting to wonder if they hadn’t fired the castle’s cleaning staff. Certainly, they could have reduced the numbers.
When morning light finally hit, and the first bells tolled both he and Mith were exhausted. One from a night of doing nothing, and another from doing things of no importance.
The minotaur was so exhausted she couldn’t even bring herself to pick up her fellow guard, though clearly she still had enough energy to drink. As she pushed the human forward. Like always the sleeping pig was packed with Lunar Guards, most of their squad was there, sans two members.
“Zowl, help me though this pain.” She gripped and sighed as she sat on the first open stool. A sleepy smile crossed her lips as she felt the please of relaxation. She didn’t even notice the fat elf bartender, Lyaeus had snuck up with a tankard of rock ale. “Thanks! Hey, can I also get something with a lot of meat in it? Maybe some bread too?” She wasn’t picky, anything meeting those standards would work. Stew, a large sandwich, a half cooked city rat between day old bread. Anything, really.
“So who’s Zowl?” The rookie next to her asked the question so carefree, it was like he really had no idea. No semblance of the great goddess of life.
More than a few patrons turned their ears and heads towards him. Their gaze was not a friendly one. Even members of their own squad seemed to look towards him with a mixture of distain and uncertainty, as if they couldn’t believe someone would just ask that. Well, someone who wasn’t a child.
Sensing the faux paus, Neal attempted to walk the statements back, “Sorry, I didn’t mean offence. I won’t ask again.” He pulled out a few irregular copper coins, two more than needed for his drink and handed them to Lyaeus. The fat elf glared at him, causing Neal to apologize once more, “I said I was sorry. I can leave if you want.”
The elf shook his head and sighed before taking the coins and leaving a tankard of that dark beer he had been drinking the past few night. ‘Fern Grove Mash Beer’ or just ‘Fern Beer’ as most called it.
For a moment, the two sat and drank in silence as the rest of the bar went back to their various discussions. An oversized sandwich was soon dropped in front of Mith, who greedily took chunks out of the savory creation.
Neal would swear she was moaning through a few of the first bites.
After taking enough in to calm her stomach, she leaned over and in an almost whisper, Mith asked “Do you really not know who Zowl is?”
He could only shake his head, no. “I know most of you don’t believe me, but I’m not from here. I don’t mean any disrespect. No, I don’t know who that is. Is Zowl a bad, thing?”
She sighed and took another bite, “No. The opposite in fact, Zowl is very good. She’s the goddess that gave us all life. The goddess of life.” Taking a few swigs of her rockale, she continued, “It’s just… very insulting for someone to say you don’t know her. It’s a curse, like saying you don’t know your own mother.”
His eyes lit up for a moment, and his head tilted downwards. “I really am sorry then. I didn’t mean anything by that.”
Mith waved it off. “I don’t take offense to it, but others do. Be careful saying stuff like that. Especially being a human. Someone might take you for an Oma worshiper.”
“Ok, so who’s…” Neal looked back and forth, ensuring no one was listening as he whispered very quietly, “Oma?”
“We call him the god of death.” She scratched at her head, this conversation was deeply uncomfortable for her, along with anyone still ease dropping on them. “Look, I’ve said it before, I’m not a priest. I shouldn’t be the one teaching you this stuff. Just know he’s bad, and you shouldn’t say his name. It’s not as bad as what you said about Zowl though. Still, it’s not good.”
“Noted” The human took another few sips of his beer, “I’m sorry.”
With that silence returned to them as they each drank the morning away.
She chugged down the last of her ale and gave his back a quick slap, “Eh don’t worry about it, you’re just a dumb human.”
A loud thunk echoed in the room as she slammed the tankard back on the bar top, “Let me get another one!” Mith shouted down to the bar tender.