“Form a line, boys.”
The clumsy street urchins huddled in something resembling a formation, only to receive the army recruiter’s disdainful look. He had the phrase “Is that the best you can offer?” plastered to his face as he regarded the elderly offerman Neick, responsible for this batch of orphan street boys to the army. The skinny old man shrieked in response to the gaze of the officer, bowing as hastily as his fragile body allowed him to.
“These are youngsters with talent and a bright future ahead of them, good sir. You won’t be disappointed even if you tried to!” he announced with a forced laugh, relaxing all of his muscles to seem calmer than he actually was. He knew that of all things he should avoid in life, angering Leonhardt’s army was at the top of the list.
The officer turned his back to him and gave another long hard look at the pack of rugged kids around him. Most of them were of small stature, allegedly ranging from seven to fifteen years of age. They wore standard sets of sack shirts and trousers, totally lacking in the shoe department. The row of boys standing closest to the recruiter was of the older ones, body language indicative of defense of the ones behind them, eyes set to determine what kind of danger the man in front of them presented. The younger ones in the back had their gazes jumping back and forth from Neick, to the officer, to the big boys in front of them, unsure of what awaited them. They kept near each other, looking out for any potential hint.
“Offerman.” ordered the recruiter.
“Yes sir?”
“Leave the room for a mome-”
The elderly man disappeared with an unnaturally quick tread out of the room and closed the door shut before the officer could finish his sentence. Taken aback by what he witnessed, after a small pause the army man found his thought process once more and let out an unsure cough before continuing.
“All right youngsters, I’m going to ask you a series of questions, understood?”
They nodded.
“First of all, how many of you know how to fight”
All of them raised their hands up.
“How many of you know how to really fight? Actual combat experience.”
Most of them lowered their hands down.
“And which ones of you want to leave this town?”
All of them raised their hands up.
“To serve as Leonhart’s soldiers.”
All of them lowered their hands.
The officer bent down on his knees to reach their eye level.
“There are many advantages to being in the army, boys. For example, you will be given food and shelter, each one of you, better than what you had here.”
He was met with disdain from the older kids and unsureness from the younger ones.
“If you serve a few years in the army, you will get a chance to graduate.”
“You mean we’ll be able to study at a university?”
“Precisely.”
They let out a unanimous loud gasp. Everyone knew of the universities, the place where you study to achieve your dreams.
One of them, a skinny boy taller than the rest, wearing a flat cap, stepped forward. He spoke in a high pitch.
“How long do we need to serve the army then?”
“Four years at least.”
They gasped aloud.
“Only those of you who are at least twelve will be eligible to join the ranks.”
“But I’m ten.”
“I’m eight!”
“I’m close to turning twelve this season? Does that count?”
The officer let out a long sigh as he pondered what to make of the group in front of him. On one hand, the army wouldn’t have to train a group of useless little runts and spend precious amounts of time and budget on them when these could be given to actual troops instead. His failure at finding anyone suited for the army would leave him jobless at the very best, not to mention the worst-case scenario.
“Any more questions?”
“Can we study whatever we want after those four years? I’d like to be a teacher!”
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“I’d like to see other islands. Do soldiers travel to those? Do you get to have holidays there?”
The officer got up and called the offerman back into the room. “We’re finished here,” he explained. “Whoever one of you wants to join in, tell it to Neick once he comes here. He’ll bring those of you interested to the port. We’re off to the soldier campus at Leonhardt by noon.”
Neick entered with a skittish step to him, watching out for the officer's facial expression.
“Officer?”
“If any one of them asks to be brought into the army, send them to our airship, with all the paperwork confirming they’re at least twelve years of age. Am I clear?”
The old man nodded and the officer glanced one last look at the group behind him, before exiting the room.
The officer’s departure eased the atmosphere at “Nieck’s Shelter for orphan boys”, which served as an army recruitment camp than a proper shelter. In it, rejected by normal orphanages, underaged boys were kept and looked after by the offermen, such as Nieck, for years until the army called. Simply put, these worked to dispose of both troublesome orphans and reinforce the military might of the country.
Normally, most of the kids wouldn’t even have a say in whether or not they would be drafted, but since the resolution of the new ruler family and their establishment of newly reformed laws this year, new regulations in the army prohibited forceful draft into the army, on the grounds of producing high amounts of deserters, as evidenced by statistics. The recruiters had now to lure the kids into the ranks by promises of a great future and opportunities they wouldn’t have otherwise, which was partially true. You serviced the army and showed great promises and the government would open its doors to you where it otherwise wouldn’t, such as universities that required the highest form of education to even enter them, but would let a young talented soldier slide into it as an exception. A soldier who could become a great asset to the army by studying engineering and perhaps even be responsible for warfare advances. It was a winning combination.
“That’s it, runts, all of you who’re not twelve screw off to yar cabins for now. And for the rest of you, big boy panties, I give you an hour and a half to come up with an answer for yourself, and in two hours, those who agree to go will leave with me to the port.”
Neick rounded the crowd of small bodies near him and forcefully separated the unrequested bunch from the potential recruits. He led the former away to a door leading outside and closed the room they were in before with a shut, sending the door creaking and wobbling.
The leftover boys wandered around the room, some sitting on the floor, others on the dusty windowsills, and the rest kept on standing.
“So,” began the tallest boy of the bunch, “who wants to go?”
“Not me. I’ll get killed first once we reach combat. I can feel it in my stomach,” explained a rather flimsy-looking fellow with a stolen tricorn hat, looking towards the outside streets.
“Man, I’d like to go to a university like he promised, to be honest. I mean, imagine creating your own airship or other vehicles. Wouldn’t that be awesome?”
“That is if he’s not outright lying to us, like all of them Leonhardt bastards do. Not even a doctor of theirs could tell you what burdens you without adding in a sprinkle of bullshit, like a dessert topping.”
“Dessert topping? You ever had one?”
“No. But I’ve seen them once near the fancy restaurant at the port, placed on a bunch of cakes some rich merchants had for dinner.”
“Oh man, imagine having a cake for dinner. I’d probably kill for it,” pled a plump ginger curly-haired kid named Taki.
“I don’t doubt it.” Added a cap-wearing lad, who previously asked the officer a question.
“Well, I’m going either way,” exclaimed the shortest boy in the group with a squarish face, named Lolsi. “This weapon of a body I have needs to be put to good use.”
“Yeah, as a sandbag.”
The room audibly giggled.
The tall boy, Edgar, took a stance in the room to look at the boy’s eye level.
“Okay, now who’s down for leaving for real? Hands up guys.”
Out of the fifteen boys in the room, six raised their arms affirmatively and two had theirs stuck in the middle, their mind not yet decided.
One of the boys who agreed got up and clapped his hands twice to gather their attention. He spoke in a high-nosed, pseudo-aristocratic manner people did in theatre plays about royalties, only accenting their smugness instead of stature. “Well, looks like those of you not decisive enough will have to make due in an hour or two, lest you remain sole losers like the rest of the people here willing to remain rat boys forever,” he said, pointedly looking at the ones who disagreed to leave.
“You’re just as much of a rat boy as us, mister ‘I’ll steal from the disabled cause it’s easier to do’.”
“Hey! That happened only once, and only because that prick was getting on my nerves with his fake ‘disability’. I mean, he couldn’t even fake a torn arm right, it was still working like clockwork for everyone to see!”
“Because he wasn’t an amputee, you dingus. He was blind!”
“Wait, you’re serious?… Is that why he didn’t really up a fight when I stole the money under his nose?” he sighed and shrugged his shoulders “Well then, tell his ass next time not to wear a cloth around the eyes, otherwise how will I know he’s blind?”
After a few more back and forths with each other, the boys split up and mostly left the room, some to pack their things, others to ponder their choices.
Only two remained in that room, the tall boy Sidrick and a scrawny kid with a worker’s cap, under which were planted short strands of curly ginger hair.
The ginger boy spoke up to him, taking a sit on the floor right under the window.
“You said you wanted to go, right, Sidrick? Well, I want to come with you guys.”
“Are you crazy? Does anybody else even know about you?” he said, trying his best to keep a low profile. The curly boy just looked to the side, making sure nobody could listen.
“No, but I was going to. Right after being dispatched into the army.”
“But why, Niev? What do you gain from it? Besides the point of being discovered on the first day of training.”
“You don’t get it, do you? I don’t want to get into the army with you, dingus” the boy accented the last word, to mimic the way Sidrick said it. “I only need to get with you towards the army.”
“Whatever that means,” commented Sidrick.
“Anyway, if I miss out on this draft, others will slowly notice things about me, very quickly. Happened at the last shelters…”
“And just like that, you’re leaving us, like all the others.”
“Maybe, you can come with me. Can’t guarantee you safety or bright future, though.”
“So, either I die with you as an urchin, or in the army as a soldier. Guess I’ll have to think on that one.”
“Hah, good luck to you then, tall boy. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to pack my things up in a nice and tight satchel, like I always did.”
“And will always do,” added Sidrick.
The ginger boy got up and smiled with bright pink full lips. He got up to leave, and right before his foot left the room, added, “Also, once we leave this place, don’t call me Niev anymore. The name’s Niva.”
Then came a smile. “Fits a girl better, you know?”
She tipped her hat and quietly strode away into the depths of the hallway.