A few days after Catherine had received her letter, all acolytes were called to a morning gathering in front of the main administration building. There was a small stage there, which elevated a few instructors above the group of students, and they were overseeing the gathering and calling out for silence once everyone had gathered.
Alan was in the middle of the pack together with Cal, having been redirected from his morning combat lesson. As everyone around him finally quieted down, an important looking elderly man took the stage, and spent a minute overlooking the crowd. His robe was not the traditional red, but rather a royal blue with gold trimmings, and he had gray hair and well trimmed beard. He also carried a small wooden staff, mostly looking like a walking stick. His eyes scanned the crowd calmly, and Alan got the impression that he was making eye contact with every acolyte present.
“Acolytes, my name is Douglas Arkon, and I am the headmaster of this institution. I have gathered you here this morning to inform you of current events unfolding in our kingdom. I’m sure you’ve all heard about the diplomatic mission to the Syrodin Empire, in which our King has personally taken part. We got word about a week ago that the negotiations have failed, and that the King with his entourage is making his way back home.”
There was some commotion among the crowd at that revelation, and Cal seemed eager for answers to what was going to happen now that the peace negotiations failed. The crowd was soon silenced by the crack of a staff against the wooden stage,
“A few days ago, we received the grim news that there were military forces in pursuit of the King and the diplomatic corps, though they had not yet made contact at that point in time. The decision was made to mobilize all military personnel, in preparations for what will most likely be a war with the Syrodin Empire. This means-”
“Is the King dead?” “What happens now?” “Are we going to war?” A throng of questions were shouted out in response to the headmaster's words.
“Quiet down, everyone!” One of the faculty staff shouted above the noise, and it eventually receded.
“As I was trying to say, this means that some of you will be conscripted to the armies, and will contribute in whatever way you can.” The commotion immediately began anew, drowning out the headmaster’s continued speech, and only another thunder-like crack of his staff against the stage brought silence back.
“We, the faculty, have advised the military to the best of our knowledge on who among you are capable of contributing to a war effort at this time, and who is in need of more training, and they have mostly listened, considering the list of conscriptions to the standing armies. Anyone who is not conscripted to the armies, however, have been conscripted to join peace keeping missions inside the kingdom while the armies are occupied elsewhere.” The headmaster took a brief pause, while bringing out a note from a pocket.
“I’ll read out the list of those conscripted to the armies, and you will all immediately report to General Patton here to my left. The rest of you will report to Lieutenant Arbor here to my right.” The headmaster pointed to a man in a highly decorated uniform to his left, and a less decorated but more rugged looking man to his right.
“Brandon Albury, Geralt Brask, Elise Furome,...” He continued listing names for a short while, but Alan didn’t recognize anyone he knew until the last name came up “... and Catherine Storm.”
Alan felt like he’d been punched in the gut, even if his rational mind told him it was expected, as she came from a magically strong family and had already been an acolyte for two years. He looked around, but couldn’t see Catherine in the crowd, and soon he was dragged along by Cal towards Lieutenant Arbor.
“Come on, acolytes, we’ll move away from the stage a bit, to get some more room.” The Lieutenant brought the large group of acolytes with him towards a clearing a short walk away, and Alan looked towards the group of conscripted gathering at the other side of the stage. The other group was considerably smaller, and mostly made out of students looking older than him. On the edge of the group he finally spotted Catherine, and to his relief, Rose, one of her friends. She’s not alone at least, Alan thought, although it was a small comfort.
“Right, we’ll talk here.” The Lieutenant finally stopped, and beckoned them to group up around him. He looked to be in his thirties, and was a tall and broad shouldered man with a cleanly shaven face and short cropped brown hair.
“You have been chosen to join in peacekeeping missions, which basically means you will be sent to various regions of the kingdom where there is a need for a military presence, either for mediation between people in conflict, or to hunt down bandits, murderers, rapists, thieves, or other criminals as necessary.” The lieutenant paused for a bit, taking a hard look at the acolytes gathered in front of him.
“You might think these are tasks for local guards and militias, but because of the preparations for war the country is undergoing, most of the local defense forces will have other priorities, guarding supplies, important caravans, potential military sabotage targets, and other important tasks in times of war. You will therefore be a sort of response team, traveling around within a designated region and answering when you are called upon.”
“These are not trivial tasks, do not be fooled into thinking you have been given the easy path compared to your more experienced friends joining the armies. You will face confused civilians, angry mobs, cruel criminals, crafty bandits. You will have to contend with all kinds of people, and will have to make friends where you can, because you are not invincible, and cannot stand for justice all alone.”
A long silence ensued while the lieutenant looked each and every acolyte in the eyes. Alan gulped, a heavy weight settling in his stomach the more heard. The gathering was silent as the grave, all listening raptly.
“Make no mistake, you will feel the effects of war in every part of the country. People will be less likely to help, more likely to hide. They will look out for themselves first and foremost. Some will be scared, some will be angry, and a few will see opportunity and take advantage of the chaos. Some of you will believe yourselves stronger, smarter, more powerful than the opposition you face, and it will lead to nothing but an early grave. An arrow to the heart kills a mage just as easily as a farmhand. You. Are. Not. Invincible. Remember this, if nothing else.”
“You will work in groups of three acolytes, together with a squad of 10 soldiers, and most of you will be accompanied by an acolyte of healing from the Church. You will work together with local representatives of the crown, in whatever form that may take, but will not take orders from anyone but me. You will be given signed orders describing the powers vested in you as representatives of the crown, but do not let the document go to your head. Listen to the people you meet, the locals know their areas and their people better than you ever will.”
“One of you will be appointed as the highest ranking officer in your group, based on seniority, because even acolytes are considered officers in the army, but every squad that comes with you is significantly more experienced with field work than you, so listen carefully:” Here, the lieutenant layered his voice with a serious and angry note. “If it gets back to me, that one of you ignored good advice from more experienced people, choosing instead to risk the lives of everyone in your group to charge into the fray for glory and justice, I will personally flay your backs, have you removed from the Academy, and ruin your reputation to the point that no one will ever want to talk with you again! So listen to your comrades.”
“The group compositions will be displayed outside the main administration area within a few hours. If you have any complaints, take it up with the administration. The soldiers will arrive tomorrow morning, so you have the rest of the day to say goodbye to your friends and loved ones.”
With that, the lieutenant turned away from them and started walking towards the administration building. “Oh, and one last thing. If you let your acolyte of healing die, the Church will have your head, so maybe consider that before putting them in dangerous situations. Doesn’t matter what your last name is, the church does not differentiate between peasants and nobles. Just a reminder.”
Alan stood rooted to the spot, lost in a thousand different thoughts. A hope, as unlikely as it was, had started building up inside him. He quickly counted the group around him, and reasoned that he didn’t have a high chance of his hope coming true, but it kept burning inside him nontheless.
Alan quickly made his way towards the administration building, and Cal followed behind, lost in his own thoughts. His eagerness was not rewarded, as no list of groups had been published yet, and he had to remind himself that patience was a virtue.
Looking towards the group of acolytes destined for the armies, Alan spotted Catherine also making her way towards the administration building, and he assumed they had been given similar information. She was intercepted by a tearstruck and fearful Lia, who hugged her close like her life depended on it. The rest of the friends soon followed, and both Catherine and Rose were smothered in affection by the rest of the group.
“Huh, even the Ice Queen has emotions, it seems…” Alan heard from his left, turning to find Gordon observing the girls as they hugged, cried, and made promises of reunions once everything was over.
Alan elected not to comment, choosing instead to sit down and lean back against the wall. His thoughts churned in every direction, and it was easier to just shut down and meditate for a bit than to deal with everything.
“Hurry up and wait, huh?” Cal commented, sitting down next to Alan.
“Nothing else to do right now, I guess.” Alan answered, a yawn escaping him.
Alan awoke a while later, to the sound of yelling from a familiar voice.
“...-sten here, pal, I will make your life a living hell unless you transfer Marissa to group Bravo right the fuck now!” The voice of angry Catherine was somehow amusing to Alan, until he deduced that the lists had been published, and he quickly got up to find his group.
“I understand your position on this, Miss Storm, but I am not authori-”
“I don’t give a shit about what you are or aren’t authorized to do, I will have a Shadow placed so far up your ass that an indecent fucking bowel movement will land you in Eastpit, do you understand me?!”
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
Alan decided to intervene before the situation escalated to actual violence.
“Catherine, you can’t threaten-”
“Shut up, Alan, and let me do this!”
Alan held his tongue, as it looked like the administrator was finally coming around.
“I will see what can be done about the situation, Miss Storm, so if you will excuse me.” He said as he got up to enter the building.
“And be bloody quick about it!” Catherine yelled after him.
“...why is it so important that Marissa is placed with me?” Lia asked carefully, with a slightly fearful expression.
“That’s none of your gods damn-”
“CAT! Calm down, okay?” Rose stepped in, voice concerned, putting a hand on Catherine’s shoulder.
“Shit, sorry Lia…” Catherine said, anger sputtering out, slowly being replaced by an embarrassed and slightly shameful face.
“It’s okay, Cat, it’s okay. Just speak to us, let us in, alright?” Rose said, looking between the two girls with a soft expression.
“She’s… an old and good friend, that’s all. I don’t trust most of our classmates to protect her.” Catherine admitted in a small voice, before catching herself and straightening her back.
She turned to Alan and spoke in a strict tone. “I trust Alan to protect her, with his life if needed.” She stated as a fact, staring at him.
“And I trust you, Lia, to watch out for her in any situation you find yourselves in.” Catherine said eventually in a softer tone, turning back to the group.
“We’re both in bravo!” Cal commented from his side, distracting Alan from further listening in.
“Oh, that was nice of them,” Alan answered, wondering what the reasoning behind the group compositions were.
“We weren’t given a healer, but I assume that is about to change soon.”
“I have a feeling it will.” Alan said, thoughtfully, deciding that he could give other people the chance of reading through the lists now that he knew both the others in his group.
As Cal and Alan left the crowded area around the list to allow others access, Alan discovered a procession of white robed people walking in a steady rhythm towards them. He quickly scanned through the group looking for Marissa, but Catherine apparently found her first, and was already sprinting towards her, to the clear and obvious annoyance of the priest leading the procession.
“Miss, please keep-” The priest began, but was quickly cut off and left behind as Catherine ran past him.
“Shut up, don’t care!”
Marissa was second to last in line, and just managed to look up in time to understand what was happening, before Catherine barreled into her, trapping her in a hug so tight that she could barely move a muscle.
The priest looked at them for a second, before seemingly giving up the fight. “Catch up, the rest of you, this isn’t a picnic. And acolyte Crow, remember public decorum.” he said as he turned away, leading the rest of the group towards the administration building.
Alan struggled against his instinct to run after Catherine, believing that he should give the two some privacy. He still couldn’t stop himself from looking critically at Marissa, searching for any sign or indication that the two years of priest training had somehow fundamentally changed her, as Catherine had feared.
Alan studied Marissa’s body language from afar, and while she seemed reluctant and stiff the first few seconds of the hug, she slowly reciprocated, and when Catherine finally let her go from the seemingly crushing hug, Marissa quickly initiated another.
The moment Alan decided for himself that they both seemed to be handling this well, he turned away to let them have at least a modicum of privacy, as their reunion had become the center of attention of every acolyte in the vicinity.
As he left the area, he heard the priest encourage the acolytes to get to know their groups and future companions, and informed them that he had arranged for accommodations on campus for the night. Alan tagged him as one of the good teachers, making a mental note of getting acquainted with him, until he remembered that he was no longer a teacher himself. Well, it might be interesting to get to know him anyways, Alan thought to himself.
As Alan returned to his room, planning to sort through his meager belongings for what he would need to bring with him, he was met by an unexpected visitor outside of his dorm.
“Pete, is that you?” Alan asked, having recognized one of his fellow apprentices from his work at the blacksmith Arms of Almer. “What are you doing here?”
“L-Lord Moltus, I have brought a package for you.” The young boy stammered out. Alan remembered him as one of the few who had been slightly scared of the displays of magic that Alan had performed while training at the blacksmith, and it seemed that he hadn’t quite outgrown his fear.
“I’m not a lord, Pete, relax. Just call me Alan, please.” Alan stated, before looking curiously towards the package, which seemed heavy in Greg’s hands. “What have you got there, is it from Brandon?”
“R-Right… A-Alan.” Pete started, then took a short breath before continuing. “We got a short notice, high priority order from the St-Storm residence; a chain mail to be delivered to you today at the latest.” Pete took another pause, seemingly considering his next words carefully.
“I have been tasked with delivering it to you, and… teaching you how to wear it appropriately.” He finally said, embarrassment clear on his face.
“Oh…” Alan answered, confused. “That’s… interesting, and probably necessary. How do you know how to wear one?”
“My father is a soldier, and he taught me… Oh, and there’s also a letter!” Pete perked up, removing a squashed up letter from his pocket, holding it forward to Alan, before noticing how crooked it was. After three tries to straighten the letter out, he apparently gave up, and handed Alan the envelope with a tinge of shame.
“Right, come on in and teach me, then.” Alan said, as he went inside and beckoned the young apprentice to follow.
Fitting the chain mail correctly was actually quite a challenge, as it was obviously too large for Alan. But with the help of a large belt and several straps at key locations, it was possible to wear and retain at least a minimum of mobility. Pete seemed embarrassed to “presume to teach a mage how to wear armor”, but managed to keep it in check well enough that they got it fitting acceptably in the end.
After Pete had left and Alan had packed away the chain mail, gambeson, straps and belt, in the way Pete had taught him, he finally took a look at the letter.
Dear Alexander Moltus
I hope this letter finds you well, and that your studies are progressing steadily. I was informed a few days ago about the coming conscription of all acolytes of the Royal Academy, a highly unusual occurrence. The conscription of our dear Catherine was not unexpected, but to also force even the freshest of recruits into the field is unprecedented.
I’ve taken the liberty of ordering some armor for you, as you cannot uphold your end of our bargain should you fall as a result of lacking defensive equipment. Do not worry, both Marissa and Catherine have received similar garments, though I do believe they both require some convincing to actually wear them. If you can help in this, I would be most grateful.
Finally, I would like to ask you to do everything in your power to keep Marissa safe, as I understand Catherine is planning on her being in your group. Marissa has occupied a special place in Catherine’s heart for some time, and I fear for her mental state should something untoward happen during your missions.
If there is anything I can do for you in return, please inform me at your convenience.
PS: I’ve just received notice that you will not be provided with horses from the academy, as they are prioritizing acolytes destined for the armies, which seems sensible. In any case, I have arranged and paid for your entire group to rent horses from one of our trading partners, the details will be forwarded to your squad leader on the day of departure.
Sincerely,
Edgar Heath,
Head Secretary of the Storm Estate
After having packed away everything he expected to need for his new adventure, as he had decided to call it, Alan took a short trip home to say his farewells to his family. His mother had mixed feelings about his mission, but was overall happy that he had avoided being conscripted to the armies, while his father complained about the lack of opportunity to attain fame and recognition running around the countryside solving squabbling disputes.
Alan made his way back to the academy as evening drew near, having been equipped with some smoked and dry food to bring along as well. He decided to visit Catherine as he returned, hoping to maybe convince her to wear her no doubt oversized armor.
When he found himself outside Catherine’s room, he could hear several voices inside. Instead of tempting himself with the possibility of listening in, he knocked loudly and waited.
“Go away!” Alan heard from inside, guessing the voice belonged to Catherine.
“I just wanted to say goodbye, I won’t be long,” Alan answered.
“Is that-” the new voice cut short as the door opened, and Marissa stood in the door looking right at him.
“Alan!” Marissa shouted, tackling him hard enough to push him backwards.
Alan returned the hug enthusiastically, lifting Marissa up and refusing to let her down again.
“Aww, I’ve missed you too, Alan. Now let me down, you big brute!”
As Alan finally let her down, she took a few seconds to study him. “Wow, you’re a lot bigger now too. Why is everyone growing faster than me?!”
“That’s just life, Marissa, some people are simply destined to be small. But at least you have a big heart, and you look great in the white robes!” Alan commented, as Marissa was still wearing the traditional white robes of the acolytes of healing.
“I do, don’t I?” Marissa twirled quickly, showing off the robe with a smug smile.
“Oh, I have so much to tell you! Get in here!” Marissa said as she grabbed Alan’s hand and dragged him after her into the room.
Inside the room, Alan saw Catherine sitting on her bed at one side, while Lia was reading from the dreaded Introduction to Magical Theory on her own bed at the other side. Both looked up at him as he was dragged in, Catherine with an unusually warm and genuine smile, and Lia with a cold scowl.
“How is Alan short for Alexander?” Lia asked with an angry undercurrent Alan was not prepared for.
“Um.. it’s-” “Bah, who cares about that, tell me what you have been doing while I went to priest school!” Marissa interrupted, plopping down on the bed next to Catherine.
“I.. ehh” Alan started. Lia was staring daggers at him, but he couldn’t figure out why, and it took him a bit to gather his thoughts.
“I came to say goodbye to Catherine, actually. I know we have a lot to talk about, Marissa, but I think we’ll have enough time in the coming months to do that. Besides, I’m sure Catherine would like to keep you to herself for this short time you have together.”
Marissa was about to complain, but cut herself short with a furious blush at the end of Alan’s sentence.
“A minion with tact, who would have thought.” Catherine said, rising from the bed, with a put upon air of a serious Lady. “I guess a proper farewell would only be… proper… Ah, damn it.”
Alan raised a brow at her behavior, but Catherine’s smile told him she was mucking about. It had been ages since he had seen her this animated and happy, and he quickly swept her up in a similar hug he had given Marissa.
“Be careful, alright?” Alan said as he held her close. “I will,” Catherine answered softly, squeezing him one last time.
“Now let me go and get out of here, you are spoiling the party!”
“Alright, I’m leaving, I’m leaving.”