‘Everyone from squadron W line up on your left! We are about to land! I repeat, everyone from squadron W line up on your left!’ the voices of squadron O’s crew echoed in unison. Their synchronisation impressed Gin more by the second.

As he waited in line for the next instructions, he peered over the bough. The boats themselves floated about two hundred metres away from the piers that lined the beach. However, he could see wood growing out of the side, creating a ramp over time, ready for everyone to get off. The ramps soon splashed into the murky waters and the edges of the boat degenerated, leaving a gap for people to walk through and down.

‘But still,’ he contemplated, turning to Joan who stood beside him. ‘Aren’t the ships missing the landing? Why are the exits going to hit the sea?’

Joan just shrugged. ‘I’ve never been at a naval-based squadron either.’

‘Ah, then you haven’t seen such a beautiful sight either before then?’

She shook her head again. ‘I’ve seen a different sort of natural beauty but nothing like this.’

They both looked further beyond the beach where the greenery met the sand. From there, flowers of all different colours and shapes decorated the land, although the white ones did irk Gin as they reminded him of the night he met Artemis.

However, the main attraction were the Rezahs. They looked taller and wider than the lone tree squadron W owned and they also had a more complicated structure: Windows, pulley systems, animals zipping in and out of holes, the tree itself growing and decaying in real-time, you name it. If squadron W’s home left a lasting impression before, squadron O’s outdid that hundredfold. And there were several trees to boot!

‘Everyone off! Single file!’ the crew barked new orders all of a sudden.

‘We’re finally ready!’ Gin couldn’t help but be excited, followed by Joan giggling at his childishness.

Everyone moved one by one down the ramp and took their first steps into the waters. When Gin took his turn, he shivered, not because of the cold water that began filling his shoes, but rather a leafy organism kept rubbing against his legs. Seaweed? he guessed but dared not to look down. Why do we need to walk through this anyway?

His battalion members began to spread out (though Joan remained relatively close by). Some of the bulkier members managed to wade through the goop with ease while others struggled to move an inch. Surprisingly enough, the water didn’t reach a level where people could drown, yet it still made the journey excruciating. For what purpose? No one appeared to know except for those that waited on the shore.

‘All surfacing squadron W members, please make your way to your left where our stone elementals will take care of you,’ a few mages, who looked quite manush-like in appearance, instructed everyone. However, knowing the mages, Gin guessed they had some ability up their sleeves.

His observing took his mind off of the arduous wading and, before he knew it, he reached the shore himself. He looked down at his trousers where he found that the “seaweed” turned out to be brown mud. Yet, it wasn’t quite mud as he soon saw it harden within seconds. Gin tried to scrape it off but it wouldn’t budge from its hold on his legs.

‘This way, sir and madam,’ one of squadron O’s mages called out to Joan and Gin.

They followed one of the mages to a couple of the so-called stone elementals (who again looked too manush-like for Gin’s comfort, even in height). They had no noticeable physical traits but that didn’t stop them from smiling brightly.

‘Gin Julius Gale and Joan, right?’ one of them started to which they both nodded in confirmation. ‘Please take a seat.’

With no obvious place to sit, Gin crouched down into a cross-legged position on the sand. Joan followed him soon after.

‘Ah, straighten your legs please,’ the mage corrected. ‘And please place your finger where my comrade tells you to.’

The other stone elemental extended her hand. She secreted a brown goo from it then said, ‘Here please.’

Gin complied, first straightening his legs, then pressing his finger into the goo. It felt like soft clay that hardened, leaving a copy of his fingerprint behind. The first mage on the other hand secreted a white liquid from his fingertips on his right hand and from the entirety of his left. It, too, hardened, turning his left hand into a hammer and his right into a series of chisels and nails. He soon began whittling away at the stone that grabbed hold of Gin’s legs. So, this is what stone elementals are like at higher ranks, Gin mused, remembering how Michal would carry his own stone around everywhere rather than make his own.

‘Your code is Two-Five-Three-Two, Mr Gale. And Two-Five-Three-Three, Ms Joan. Please remember that for security purposes,’ the man gave final instructions as the carvings got finished. Upon closer inspection, they made lines like a barcode. ‘Now head over to your commanding officer where my comrade is taking you. We’re done here. Welcome to squadron O.’

‘Thank you,’ Joan offered her gratitude before teasing Gin, ‘Don’t worry, I’ll remember the codes for the both of us.’

‘Of all my bad qualities, I don’t think my memory is one of them,’ he retorted as he got up and followed the guide.

‘Oh, good! Then I’m sure you won’t forget about taking me to your village, telling me personally more about you and your past and various other things you're promised,’ she smirked.

Wow. I walked into that one. Hasn’t even been a week since I made that promise and she’s already in reminder mode, Gin rolled his eyes. ‘Yeah, well you haven’t offered anything yourself. At least Brim told me his, Syndra’s and Jake’s side of things.’

‘I…’ Joan stayed quiet much to Gin’s surprise. She knew he said that as a joke, right? However, before he could make amends, they arrived at their location where, in the middle of the flowery fields, stood Gargarensis, the man who was supposed to take charge of his battalion.

Gin’s jaw dropped. He didn’t expect it but he met the man before: a man of large stature, much larger than other already tall mages, with a focused glare in his eyes that took seriousness to the extreme. Black spikes grew out of the small gaps in his vine-based clothing and his hair grew in a buzzcut except around a scar, or rather an indent, on the back of his head and a cut on his chin. Not to mention the aura that just screamed an air of awe and arrogance. Gin could not mistake him even if he tried.

‘Everything ok?’ Joan whispered after seeing his expression.

Her silence didn’t last long, Gin thought to himself before saying, ‘I’ve met this man a while back. Let’s just say I don’t have the greatest opinion of him.’

‘Behave. Remember, we represent our squadron. Maria doesn’t want any bad impressions.’

‘Yeah, yeah. I understand. It’s just –’

‘Gin Julius Gale, I presume,’ the giant of a man caught them both off-guard.

‘Ah, yes, sir,’ he gave a sheepish reply.

‘You’re not a familiar type, are you?’

‘No, I am not,’ Gin dared not look back at Joan for comfort. Instead, he locked eyes with Gargarensis who judged him with every passing second.

‘Then can you explain the possession of an illegal entity? A mage-eater at that,’ the giant’s eyes bore into him deeper.

‘Aqmi?’ Gin paused, realising he hadn’t seen his avian companion in a while. ‘While I understand he wasn’t bred in the MBP, or born as a familiar for that matter, I can assure you that he is harmless. And while I am not a familiar type myself, I believe I have a basic understanding and am in control of my familiar. I would like to see him if possible.’

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‘Gin Julius Gale,’ his full name was called out for the third time that day, ‘Your mage-eater has been dealt with by me personally. You will not be allowed to see him until you have permission from your higher-ups. I hope I make myself clear.’

Higher-ups? But the ones directly above me are you and squadron O’s leader. And what do you mean by “dealt with?” Gin realised what the words meant, causing a shiver to run down his spine. He wanted to protest but he could feel Joan’s presence behind him saying, “Remember what Maria wanted out of us.”

‘Yes, sir,’ the words left a bad taste in Gin’s mouth.

‘Then that is all for today. The guide will take you to your room while your battalion will prepare their beds. You are not supposed to help them but are free to do as you wish otherwise. Classes start tomorrow and I expect attendance. As for Joan, please come with me,’ Gargarensis left his final instructions.

‘Understood,’ Gin had to obey.

Joan gave him a pleased look as she walked away with Gargarensis. She knew he kept his emotions down which reassured Gin. At the very least someone understood what he was thinking. Though that still did not get rid of his worrying for Aqmi. Dealt with him personally? Sounded more and more like he got disposed of. The sheer thought of finding the bird dead angered Gin but he kept his cool.

‘So, our rooms are in one of the trees then?’ he decided to think about something else.

‘Yes, sir. We’ve assigned most of the upper floors to your various battalions,’ the guide pointed upwards to the top of the Rezah.

‘Heh. I’m not looking forward to walking all those steps,’ Gin smirked.

‘Walk? Why would we walk?’ the mage narrowed his eyes.

‘Huh? No, never mind me,’ Gin shook his head.

Gin kept his puzzled face until they reached the entrance to the nearest Rezah. Contrary to Gin’s expectations, the door was well proportioned. No hundred-metre archways or grand blockage that needed a special mechanism to open. Nope, just a wooden door a few metres tall and a door knob.

‘This way,’ the man opened the door to a well-lit room about two metres in diameter. At the end was a chamber which he ushered Gin into. There, the walls were lined with buttons with unique numbers on each and every one of them.

‘Don’t tell me this a lift,’ Gin murmured.

‘Have you never been in one?’ the guide pressed one of the high-numbered buttons. The chamber shook, vines pulling and pushing against each other in tandem, and the two of them lifted off the ground and headed up.

‘No,’ Gin replied while thinking, at least not an organic one.

‘I suppose since you come from one of the static trees, you wouldn’t know. I can’t imagine the daily struggle of climbing stairs. That’s only reserved in fire emergencies.’

‘I see. Unfortunately, my knowledge is pretty limited. Even of this squadron, heh,’ Gin scratched his head in embarrassment.

‘Oh, we’ve made sure to leave instruction manuals in your room of where everything is,’ the elevator ground to a halt, twigs and branches splintering on top of the roof. The doors opened and a wide corridor could be seen. ‘But for now, all you need to know is that your room will be the first one on the right of the lift so that you have immediate access. Then your battalion will be located at the end of a corridor on the Eastern side and the other leaders of your squadron are located on the floors above. Everything clear?’

‘Yeah,’ Gin clanked up and down the floor. Compared to squadron W’s Rezah, it felt more polished and cleaner. The torches also gave off a nice fragrance instead of a simple smell of burning oil.

‘One final thing before I go then,’ the guide pointed towards some cylinders outside Gin’s room. ‘Place your legs in those and then punch in your code. You should gain access to your room. If you face any problems, I’ll be on the twenty-second floor first thing on the left.’

‘Thank you.’

With that, the guide went back into the lift, pressed some buttons and departed. On the other hand, Gin inspected the cylinders. Like everything else in the Rezah, they too were made out of wood. However, small spikes lined the insides. In all honestly, it reminded Gin of his gauntlets the day he put them on.

‘Another parasite for my collection? Why not?’ he joked to himself as he slotted his legs into them. The spikes soon grew but instead of into his skin, they sort of wrapped around him then stopped. When they did so, Gin pressed his code on a number pad on the wall by his door, ‘Two-Five-Three-Two.’

Something clicked. The door swung open, revealing the inside of his room. It was twice the size of his original one (in both dimensions), contained a proper table-sized desk rather than the unit square before and what seemed to be a personal shower. Oh, the joy of being a battalion leader! The only problem, however, was that he couldn’t find a bed.

He looked up and down for any special switch though that proved fruitless. No lever, switch or strange cylinder to put his feet into. Do the mages sleep on the floor here? he wondered but dismissed the thought as Gargarensis did mention making beds before. Oh, I know!

Gin went over to the desk where the instruction was laid and, ‘Let’s see. “Foreword”, “How to Use These Instructions”, ah. Here we go: “Contents”.’

He flipped through the wad of paper until he found the section on his room’s bed. To his surprise, the room acted as an external Xernim. He needed to place his palm on the western wall and think about making a bed. The tree would do the rest.

So, he did just that. First, he went to the western wall. Second, he placed his palm on the wall. Third, he pictured the bed being formed right in front of him. Fourth and finally, he should see…nothing. Nothing happened. Then something occurred to him.

‘I haven’t seen my palm in ages,’ he gave a blank stare at his gauntlets. He became so accustomed to them that he treated them as an extension of his own body. ‘The tree wouldn’t know that though.’

Unequipping the INS, he imagined the gauntlets degrading around his palm. First from the fingertips then down to the hand. Despite the usual technique, the thought didn’t carry over. The gauntlets didn’t degrade at all like he wanted to. Maybe because they’re the core, he concluded, letting out a sigh.

Gin assessed his options. He could go all the way to the twenty-second floor or he could take a look at what his battalion is doing as they lived closer to him. Sure, Gargarensis told him not to help them and him being with his team might give the wrong impression. But that wasn’t his intention at all! I’m the one seeking help not them, he convinced himself.

Without a second hesitation, the battalion leader went down to see his battalion down the corridor that appeared to go on for ages as if in circles. In fact, Gin didn’t stop walking until he saw the entrance to the lifts right outside his open room. He really had gone in a giant circle.

‘Leader, you ok?’ a muffled voice came from below him.

‘Oh, Sam,’ Gin looked down. ‘Yeah, I was looking for the room the battalion’s staying at but was having trouble finding it.’

‘Oh. Ok. I understand. Follow me,’ the short sentences never ceased to feel jarring.

‘Sure. What are you doing outside anyway?’

‘Erm, am embarrassed. Stuck with something.’

‘What is it?’ Gin asked but got a response.

They only needed to walk a hundred metres or so when Sam paused outside a wooden wall. He pulled on a low-lying torch when, all of a sudden, the bark degraded, uncovering another number pad. Once Sam punched in the numbers, the wall gave way and a clamour of noise burst out from the battalion’s chattering.

‘So, it’s soundproof too?’ Gin mumbled to himself, amazed by the natural technology as the duo walked in. His battalion greeted him as he did so.

The rectangular, narrow room itself didn’t contain everyone, with about fifty of his battalions lined up on both sides. Whether that was down to lack of size (and so several rooms needed) or others simply not being present, Gin would need to find out later. He did notice the solid clay-like material on everyone’s legs just like his, however, all of which with strange, lined engravings. It’s probably a security measure, he theorised. But for now, he inspected how everyone handled settling down.

From the looks of things, they all tried to create beds of their own. Why wouldn’t they? It was as Gargarensis said they would. Some managed to get the hang of it (just about) while most others struggled. Gin could guess what Sam wanted help with now.

‘I can’t make bed,’ Sam stood by the wall that belonged to him.

‘Well, I’m not sure if I should’ Gin glanced up and down the room, making sure no one from squadron O was around. The orders of him not helping his battalion out rang through his ears.

‘Please.’

Gin looked around again. Gargarensis must have told all of them that he couldn’t really help, surely? That’s why no one else spoke up, right? Yet all he saw were the faces of his men that wanted guidance from their leader. He knew he shouldn’t but his nature told him to do so. If he needed to get punished for disobeying these orders, then so be it.

‘Listen up everyone, this tree is like a massive Xernim. It will act on your thoughts and your imagination. So, let’s start by placing your hands against the wall of your designated area,’ Gin instructed with everyone following. ‘Picture the beds from our home. Picture your bed. Picture the vines growing, twisting, turning, forming that bed that you envisioned. Imagine the legs and base of this bed being made then the headboards. It’ll take some practice but all of you will get there.’

An immediate impact could be seen. Those who already could do it managed to work at a faster rate. And those who struggled before managed to make amicable progress. It made Gin smile knowing that any punishment he may or may not get would be worth it.

‘Leader. I still can’t make it,’ Sam tugged on Gin’s shirt.

‘Huh? Wh- Oh, I know. I came here because I had the same problem. The tree doesn’t register your thoughts if you’re covering your skin. My Xernim did the same for me,’ Gin broke out in a smile. ‘I think your stone armour would do the same. Is it possible for you to take it off?’

‘No!’ Sam shrieked like a little girl, startling Gin and those around them.

‘Excuse me?’ his eyebrows crumpled in confusion.

‘My armour is important. Dangerous to health if taken,’ the little man calmed down.

‘I see…’ Gin paused for a moment, still baffled by the shriek. ‘Then those who have almost mastered making their bed, help those who are still struggling.’

His battalion nodded in unison. They went back to cheerful chattering as they carried on with their bed construction. Gin himself grew more and more content at his men until, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the shadow of a giant with spikes. His heart sank. Though he still didn’t regret his decision to help his battalion, the thought of betraying the trust of both squadron O and the colonel’s expectations on the very first day left him demoralised in an instant. He could only hope his vision played tricks on him.

‘Something happen, leader?’ Sam inquired.

‘Not really. I was thinking that it’s a little embarrassing but I need help making my bed in my room,’ Gin forced a smile. I need to make amends though, he kept his true feelings to himself as he continued guiding his battalion. Maybe in tomorrow’s lesson.