Within the hallowed confines of the council room, time itself seemed to lose its grasp as we engaged in discourse that stretched across hours. Surprisingly, she shared her name with me – Zefra Bedo. In the course of our conversation, she generously imparted valuable insights, unveiling the delicate dance of etiquette required in the presence of a superior. To address one of higher standing, an open palm placed delicately on the left chest accompanied by a subtle bow was the prescribed ritual. Her words, a soothing melody, resonated with me, a balm to the wounds of prolonged isolation that had rendered me overly susceptible to the kindness of others.
My reverie was abruptly shattered by her voice, the soft sound of my name pulling me back to the present. "Zarek," she called, her question hanging in the air, "Why are your eyes the color of scarlet? It is very unnerving when I look into them."
I sighed, familiar with the query, and provided my usual response, an answer that seemed to satisfy her curiosity. "Alright, Zarek, it is getting late, and I am tired," she announced, gracefully rolling a scroll into a neat cylinder.
Rising from my seat, I expressed gratitude, placing my open palm on my left chest as a sign of attentiveness. Her smile, accompanied by a sudden, unexpected embrace, held a warmth that transcended the formality of our conversation. As she pulled back, her eyes conveyed condolences for the loss of my friends, and for a moment, time seemed to halt.
As I left the council room, the door opening silently on the well-oiled hinges of the platform, I felt a mix of emotions swirling within me. The walk to the barracks was deliberate, each step weighed down by the memories that replayed in my mind. Sorrow overshadowed me, and an overwhelming desire to surrender to the pain and cry threatened to consume me. Yet, I steeled myself against the emotions, maintaining composure as I arrived at the barracks.
Upon entering, the room buzzed with chatter as I found the commoners huddled around Klayden and Roger. The air thickened with anticipation as questions hung in the air. "What happened out there?" one of them inquired, "Where are the others?"
Roger and Klayden, recent arrivals themselves, grappled with the weight of their response. "They're dead!" Roger's exclamation cut through the room, leaving a heavy silence in its wake. The chilling reality of their demise raised further questions, met with a grim explanation. "Witch soldiers had claimed the lives of our companions, and we had narrowly escaped the clutches of death."
Amidst the shock and fear, a dissenting voice emerged from a young recruit with a bowl cut and wearied clothing. Fear etched his face as he voiced his intentions to abandon the struggle of trying to become knights, casting doubt on our collective fate. Klayden, his patience shattered, surged forward with violence borne of grief and frustration, his fists delivering brutal punctuation to his anger. Blood spattered, and the room descended into horrified silence.
Swiftly, I moved towards Klayden, intervening to prevent further harm. "Klayden! That's enough," I implored, my words a plea for restraint. Tear-streaked and defeated, he relented, allowing me to guide him away. His emotional outburst, a raw expression of pain and loss, lingered in the air as he left, leaving the room in a somber silence broken only by the groans of the battered recruit.
Amidst the aftermath, I approached Roger, his fatigue evident in clasped arms and weary eyes. The weight of our shared grief hung heavy in the air, a tangible reminder of the trials that awaited us.
"Unexpected, huh?" I remarked, folding my arms.
Roger let out a tired sigh and pushed himself up from his seat with a grunt. "Well, I'm not wasting energy thinking about it. Too tired for that."
Nodding in agreement, I said, "Alright then, tomorrow I'll catch up with both you and Klayden." With that, Roger made his way to bed, leaving the room cloaked in shadows as the candles were extinguished one by one until only the lantern's glow in the center of our barracks remained. Since I was the last to hit the hay, it fell on me to take down the lantern. I effortlessly unhooked it, feeling the warmth as I opened the hatch. With one exhale, darkness swallowed the room.
The next day...
As the recruits still slumbered, I sat at the edge of my bed, arms clasped, shaking off sleepiness. Rising, I noticed Roger's absence. Opening the door, the morning sun nearly lulled me back to sleep. Hunger panged, but breakfast was a good hour away. My intent to speak with Roger and Klayden propelled me forward.
Along the outer wall, nearing the blacksmith's workspace, clangs of metal assaulted my ears. "Good morning!" I shouted above the din. The blacksmith, hammer in hand, acknowledged me with a wave. "Seen a recruit pass by?"
"Ay! Walk past the training yard, turn left. You'll find him there."
"Thanks!" I pressed on, the sun high and bathing everything in its brilliance. Following the blacksmith's directions, I approached a shed where Roger and Klayden engaged in conversation, turning their heads as they noticed my approach.
"What are you two doing here?" I asked.
"Looking for him," Roger replied, pointing at Klayden.
"You slept in the shed!?" I exclaimed, surprised. "Thought you were too mighty for such lowly acts. Anyway, are you okay now? Last night was quite the temper tantrum."
"Yeah, I'm fine. That kid just pissed me off. It's in the past now. How'd the talk with the council go?"
"Glad you asked. Only one council member, a woman."
Roger and Klayden exchanged glances, a smile playing on their lips. "Was she pretty?" Klayden asked.
" 'Pretty' is an understatement. And, believe it or not, I think she likes me!"
Their surprised expressions prompted Klayden to remark, "I find that hard to believe. You might look almost as handsome as me, but she's out of your league."
"Whatever you say," I shrugged off their skepticism.
Heading towards the mess hall, the distant sounds of knights' chatter and laughter reached us. Passing the blacksmith, recruits streamed towards the hall. Inside, the beaten recruit shot a glare at Klayden before disappearing inside. We exchanged glances and entered the hall. Amidst the chatter, we approached the cook for breakfast – a slice of bread, perfectly cooked eggs, and bacon. I declined the offered ale, opting for wine when available. Seated at an empty table, I devoured the breakfast, finishing quickly while Roger and Klayden still ate.
"You finished already!?" Roger exclaimed in surprise.
"You're still eating!?" I retorted, leaning back in my chair. The delicious meal had vanished quickly. The surprise on Roger's face intensified as he continued chewing. Suddenly, a fully armored knight entered the mess hall, making a beeline for us. My heart raced as I wondered why he approached.
"Are you Zarek?" he inquired.
"Yeah, that's me."
"Alright, follow me...along with your companions."
As we exchanged puzzled glances, he clarified, "To the infirmary. Your friend has awoken!" Surprise flickered between Klayden, Roger, and me, but we followed the knight without hesitation. The infirmary's familiar wooden table and cabinets passed by until we reached a secondary door down a hallway. Stopping at the sixth door, the knight knocked, and we awaited a response.
Sir Morris! I've brought the pupils you seek!"
The door swung open, revealing the healer in attire different from his usual garb. "Thank you!" he expressed his gratitude to the knight who escorted us. The knight gave a slight bow before making his way out. The healer gestured for us to enter.
As we stepped inside, a vast room unfolded before us, with beds lining both sides and arching architecture above. Yet, my attention was immediately seized by a breathtaking sight – Shael, radiant in the morning sun, her raven-black hair elegantly tied, a vision of grace even in the act of eating. The room seemed to fade away, leaving only her glowing presence.
It wasn't just me struck by her beauty; Roger and Klayden stood there, jaws practically on the floor.
I hastened towards Shael. She noticed our approach and delicately set her bowl on the nearby table.
"It's so good to see you're all still alive," she greeted, rising from her bed.
"Hey, is it okay if you start walking?" I asked, concerned.
"Yeah, it's fine. The healer just has to check a few more things before I can leave," Shael assured. Suddenly, a smile broke across her face, tears glistening in her eyes. She rushed forward, enveloping me in a tight embrace, her head against my chest. The sweet scent of lavender oil in her hair sent butterflies dancing in my stomach. Her grip tightened, and she stifled a sob.
"Zarek," she whispered, "I'm glad you're alive...so glad!" Tears seeped through my shirt. "Zarek, when I used my magic against those soldiers, everything went black, and my heart sank. I thought you would surely die, but here you are...alive."
A wave of emotions engulfed me as I held her, savoring a moment that might never come again. "I'm glad you're alive too." After what felt like an eternity in her arms, she released me, wiping tears from her face. She turned to Klayden and Roger, chuckling at the mix of happiness and jealousy on their faces. She extended her arms towards them, bringing both into a warm embrace. "I'm glad you guys are alive too."
"Anyway," she wiped tears away, "what did I miss?"
I sighed. "Take a seat, guys. Let me give you a rundown of what's to come."
Shael settled on the bed, crossing her feet, while Roger and Klayden grabbed seats. I perched on the drawers beside Shael's bed.
This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
"At this point, I'm certain we've passed the ceremony. After a talk with one of the council members, I gathered that in two days, we'll have to choose. It must be something important because she told me to 'choose wisely,' and she didn't disclose any further information."
"You should've pushed her to tell you what it was," Roger interjected.
"I don't think she would've given him any more information. From what he said, it would've probably been like talking to a brick wall," Klayden added.
"That shouldn't matter. She would eventually spill the beans," Roger insisted.
"This isn't some random talk in a tavern or with a street vendor. She's probably a noble; it wouldn't sit well with her!" Klayden retorted, a hint of annoyance in his voice.
"Listen, guys, you're straying from the point. This conversation was to prepare for what's to come, okay!" I asserted.
The ensuing days were uneventful, and Shael's release from the infirmary brought a glimmer of relief. We spent time around the blacksmith's smithy, practiced fighting in the training yard, and shared stories of the inner ward. However, the last night before our impending choice left me restless, my thoughts consumed by the unknown.
I woke before sunrise, contemplating the day ahead. As I was about to drift back to sleep, footsteps approached the barracks. Hastily, I feigned sleep under my blankets to avoid the watchful eyes of the knights. The door burst open, and a gruff voice echoed, "Wake up, you sons of bitches!" Startled, everyone leaped from their beds.
I stood, feigning sleepiness, glancing at Klayden and Roger. Klayden, disturbed from his slumber, wore a displeased expression. I moved to stand at ease, as did the other recruits.
"When I call your name, head to the armory, understood!?"
"Yes, sir!" echoed through the room.
Everyone's names were called except Roger, Klayden, and me. The knight stood with a scroll, staring at us.
"You were the kids that got attacked?"
"Sorry for your losses, lads. Today's the day you get to choose which brigade you're joining. Hopefully, you can join us in the Monster Eradication Brigade."
Roger, Klayden, and I exchanged surprised glances. "Alright, lads, take care."
As the knight left, we huddled together. "Is this what the lady at the council was talking about?" Roger asked.
"It seems like the only logical explanation," I replied.
"Forget that!" Klayden exclaimed. "I want to see where those recruits are going."
Ultimately, we decided against waking Shael and made our way to where the carriages were parked. Waiting for the trainees to arrive, we sat on the fences next to the gate, the cold weather made bearable by the absence of rain. The recruits appeared in their shiny armor and black hooded cloaks, their faces a mix of fear and anticipation. The portcullis slowly opened, revealing a stunning scene with the sun breaking through the clouds. The gates closed with a clang, leaving me anxious and worried about their fate.
Heading to the mess hall, we unexpectedly crossed paths with Shael. "Shael!" I called out.
"Oh, there you are," she said. "Where did the recruits go?"
"You barely missed them. They left to complete their training."
"Well, we don't have time to worry about them; we have something bigger on our hands," I warned.
The cook opened the doors to the mess hall, and as the knights poured in, we found our breakfast – sausages with scrambled eggs, bread, and butter. It was somehow even better than the day before. After a few bites, Shael cleared her throat.
"So, Zarek, would you like to tell me what's more important than our fellow recruits possibly going to their deaths?"
"I rest my fork in the bowl. "Sorry about that. This morning, before the knight that took the other recruits left, he told us that we would have to choose which division we would be joining."
Shael raised her eyebrows curiously. "Well, that's exciting."
Before I could get a word in, Zorion stepped through the door. This time, he wasn't wearing his signature helmet. He was in normal clothing, a black tunic that outlined his burly figure. He also wore black pants with heavy and expensive leather boots, his hair neatly tied in a bun, and his beard cleanly shaved, making his jaw look sharp.
"Good day, lads... and lady!" He gave Shael a little nod.
Klayden's eyebrows furrowed. "What are you doing here?" Klayden asked angrily.
Zorion raised one of his eyebrows and looked at me. "I thought I explained everything to you, Zarek! Why didn't you tell them what I told you?"
"That slipped my mind, apologies."
"What did he tell you?" Klayden asked.
"Well, long story short, it's not his fault," Before I could finish, Zorion cut me off.
"Good! Glad we're on equal terms with each other now," Zorion said. "Anyway! Rise from your seats; we're going!" Zorion said while gesturing for us to get up.
"This has to be a curse. Am I not allowed to finish my breakfast in peace!" Klayden got up with a sigh.
Roger, Shael, and I chuckled. We followed Zorion toward the front gatehouse of the inner ward. Without trouble, the gates were opened. Inside, the cannons were now covered with a big piece of cloth. It wasn't as bustling and vibrant as it was the first time I came here. We walked the path toward the main building walked up the steps and entered.
The room was silent and nearly empty, only a few mages sat at tables writing on scrolls. Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked to see who entered the room. Quickly, they arose from their seats and put an open palm on their left chest. They sat back down as quickly as they got up.
"Captain Zorion! I assume you are here for the knighting ceremony?" The mage asked.
He was an old man, his hair was gray and greasy, his beard reached his chest, and he had six golden cuffs on his beard three close underneath his chin, and three hooked lower to the end of his beard. His eyebrows were black, and his eyes were green, he had a pointed nose. In his left hand was a staff, and at the tip was a white egg-shaped stone held by the wooden branches of the staff. He wore a blue cloak with gold designs at the edges of it, connected by a golden chain.
Zorion put his open palm on his chest and bowed. "Yes! That is where I'll be headed, Your Excellency."
The old mage turned to face the platform. "Well then, allow me to accompany you."
Shael cleared her throat, her voice echoing as she did so. "Excuse me, Your Excellency, can you tell us your name?" Shael asked.
"Oh! Yes! Where are my manners? My name is Stexar Anuvius. I have been the mage of this tower for the past one hundred years."
Shael raised her eyebrows, "How did you manage to live that long?" Shael asked, surprised and confused.
Zorion was angry, "Shael! I think it's very rude to ask our excellency such a rude question."
"It's quite alright, Captain," Stexar assured.
We made our way to the platform. We all stepped on it, and out of the blue, the mage's staff glowed blue. It raised, making Roger crouch, surprised. "Stand young man; this platform will not harm you," he assured Roger.
The platform started to move. Unusually, this ride was longer than when I first used this elevator; we must've gone up a couple more floors past the council room. A similar metal door with beautiful motifs slid open silently. We were greeted with a pale blue light coming through massive windows. On each side of the room hung long red banners with a golden symbol of the sacred order on the edge. The room was made of white marble with gold vein-like designs in them. At the edge of the room was a circular table, and four men stood around it, holding scrolls in their hands.
We entered, and Stexar rapidly walked toward the men. He stood in the center and struck his staff on the ground, sending echoes throughout the room. Zorion left us and stood next to one of the marble pillars.
"Today! You will be given a choice!" Stexar said, his voice echoing. "These men that you see here were sent to accept you into their respective brigades. But before we get there, I will give you each a scroll with detailed information on each regiment and its purpose. What you read will not be sugar-coated."
With that, he gestured for someone to approach. From the room to our left, a knight exited it and approached us. He took a handful of scrolls and approached us, placing a scroll in each of our hands. When he was finished, he stood next to us, his hand on the hilt of his sword.
"You shall be given time to think about which you will join, ten minutes to be exact," Stexar said.
"Will you please follow me?" the knight next to us asked.
We obliged, the sound of our shoes echoed as we walked toward the door. Inside was a round table. When all of us entered, the knight closed the door behind us.
"I don't know about you guys, but my heart is racing," Klayden said.
"Mine as well," Shael concurred
.
Roger didn't even look up from his paper; he was fixated on what was on the scroll. I hurriedly opened my own and took a seat.
The scroll read: "To the recruit who has passed their training, you have been given a chance to choose. I hope whatever you decide on is best for you, and I hope you bring great pride to the respective regiment you choose to join.
The Sacred Hand Order was formed ten years after the Cicolalenian conflict. Monsters suddenly emerged, bringing chaos to the way of life for the people on the continent of Onoris. Currently, we are the smallest military division in the Principality of Selediano, with a force of 6000 troops. There are four regiments in our division:
Monster Eradication Regiment: They are the main army and the first regiment the Sacred Hand Order created. Currently, they have the most troops, three thousand in total.
Expeditionary Regiment: This is a branch broken from the Monster Eradication Regiment. They are sent abroad at the request of other nations on the continent of Onoris to hunt monsters too difficult to handle. Currently, they have 1500 troops.
Artillery Regiment: They are tasked with rapidly transporting and utilizing artillery at the request of our king or the request of another regiment. Currently, there are 1000 artillerymen.
Hunter-Assassin Regiment: This regiment is a multi-purpose tool; they can be called upon by our king for political uses such as espionage. If you plan to join this regiment, you will need to be mentally and physically prepared. They are also used as scouts. Out of all the other regiments, they are given the most freedom to operate. Currently, they are the smallest regiment due to their low survival rate, with 500 troops."
I held my breath in awe. I didn't bother to read anything else on the scroll. Just from reading it, I already knew what I wanted to join. I quickly rolled the scroll neatly into a cylinder, but my palms were sweaty.
"I have already made my choice. I'm joining the Hunter-Assassin Regiment."
Roger, Klayden, and Shael looked at me nervously.
"You can't be serious!" Klayden said.
"Zarek! Take a seat and think rationally for a moment," Shael said, trying to change my mind.
"No! No, I will not. You guys can choose to go your paths; I already choose mine!"
Roger rested his scroll on the table and held his chin in thought. Shael was still trying to stop me. "Zarek! Are you suicidal? Why would you choose something you have a smaller chance of surviving."
I sighed, "You can try to convince me to change my mind all you want, but I am sticking to it. I have a goal, and this is the best way to accomplish it!"
"I agree!" Roger shouted. "That is why I will join you."
"Thank you, Roger...but you don't need to do this. I'm fine-"
"Who said I'm doing this for you?" Roger interjected.
Klayden held his face in his palms, "what kind of crazy people have I aligned myself with?"
The room fell silent as Klayden and Shael's eyebrows were furrowed in thought. Finally, Klayden spoke, "Well, I have experience with you guys, so it is only sensible that I join you."
"You guys are crazy!" Shael said, putting one hand on her hip and the other on the end of the scroll and started tapping. "I guess you all leave me no choice; I'm going with you."
My eyebrows were raised in surprise. "Ok then, these are your choices; I can't tell you what to do with your lives," I told them, trying to hide my happiness.
We left the room before the ten minutes were up, the heads of the four men followed us as we stepped in front of them. "If you have chosen, come toward the table and put down your choices on the scroll. One by one, we went toward the table.
When we were finished, we stood in front of them at ease, waiting for the mage's response. With a look of surprise and horror, Stexar took the paper off the table. He nervously cleared his throat, "The recruits have decided to join the Hunter-Assassin Regiment."
The men from the other regiments looked at us surprised, then at the man to their left. The man had a big smile on his face as he looked our way. He looked heartless and scary, with two long and deep scars on the right side of his face close to his eyes. His eyes were blue, and he had brown hair, the sides were faded, his hair was slicked back, and his beard was stubbled. He wore black armor, his pauldrons were made of metallic wyvernskin.
The other three men walked from behind the table and headed for the door. Unexpectedly, one of the men stopped next to us. "You have my respect for making a decision I was too afraid to make at your age," The man whispered.
The man with the scar approached slowly with his hands behind his back. He stopped in front of us and looked each of us up and down. Out of the blue, he burst out in laughter. "Did you see the look on their faces, damn cowards!" He rubbed his nose and kept a huge grin on his face. "What made you young ones want to join, huh?!"
Roger, Klayden, and Shael looked at each other nervously. "I don't know about them, but I have a reason for joining!"
The scarred-faced man walked toward me slowly, and he did not take his gaze off me, not for a moment.
He was now right in my face. "And what's your reason, lad?"
"Vengeance!"
"Vengeance! I saw many men die in the pursuit of 'Vengeance,' let me tell you, it's not worth it."
He took a step back and stared at all of us, "I'm going to give you all one more opportunity."