The journey back to Forward Base Glaive was without incident. Argon kept them moving until it was too dark to safely continue, but eventually they paused to make a cold camp and grab a few hours of sleep before they left again well before dawn.
Progress was slower than on the way out to accommodate Thea on her makeshift crutch. Niall could see she was clearly in pain, but she did not complain and did her best to keep up. The encounter with the Bulvine fighters had left them jittery. While none of them begrudged Thea the extra time, the longer they were out, the twitchier they got. They all knew that if they encountered a similar Bulvine patrol, with their depleted numbers, their chances of survival were low.
Therefore, it was with a sense of relief they saw the comforting bulk of the walls of the army encampment. Niall shared that relief but felt the emotion distantly rather than directly. On the return journey he had carried out his scouting duties, and took his turn supporting Thea as they marched, but something inside of him was cold.
Once back at camp, Niall’s mood did not improve over the next few days. While he discharged all of his duties adequately, he could not hide his apathy and listlessness. None of the officers or NCOs called him out on it, and his fellow Militia saw the drawn look on his pale face and largely let him be. Niall almost hoped Killip would say something which would give him an excuse to lash out, but the tailor’s son appeared to have concerns of his own and left him alone.
The one thing he did not shirk on and, indeed, threw himself into with increased vigour, was combat training. He would push himself, and the others, harder than before. It was the one time he would show emotion as he shouted and screamed at them for every little mistake. He knew he was being unreasonable but he did not care.
After a few days, Lieutenant Bligh called Niall to her tent. Niall entered and saluted.
“At ease, Patrol Leader.”
Niall stood with his hands behind his back while the Lieutenant looked at him for a long silent moment that stretched out uncomfortably before she spoke.
“So how long do you plan on wallowing in self-pity, Patrol Leader?”
By now Niall knew better than to not reply to a direct question. “I’m sorry, Lieutenant. I’m carrying out my duties as best as I can. Do you have any specific issues you wish to raise?”
“Don’t play cute with me, Vendra. You know you’re doing fine. Even when you’re not at your best you’re one of the better Militia in this company. However, unless you start doing your best again, you’re going to get others in this company killed. Beyond the added paperwork, I’m broadly indifferent to whether or not you decide to allow the enemy to kill you, but I won’t have you take others down with you.”
“I’m sorry, Lieutenant, but I don’t know what I can do differently.”
The Lieutenant opened a file that lay on her desk and pulled out a piece of parchment. Niall stiffened as he recognised it as the one from the Bulvine archer’s pack. The Lieutenant turned it around so Niall could see it. She tapped on the writing. “Do you know what those words say?” Niall shook his head. “Intelligence translated it. They say: ‘Daddy and I miss you, Mummy. Come home soon. I love you’”
Niall could feel his eyes filling with tears even as Lieutenant Bligh carried on talking.
“That archer had a kid at home. Even if they haven’t found the bodies yet, the Bulvine will have registered her as missing in action. The kid’s probably crying himself to sleep already. I can’t imagine what he’ll do when they confirm she’s dead.”
Niall dashed the tears from his eyes. “Why are you telling me this, Lieutenant?”
“I’m doing it because every enemy you kill, be it Bulvine or human, will have a story like that, whether you know it or not. It will be a son, or a daughter or a sister, or a brother, or, like this one, a parent. Worse, most of those you kill are going to be just like you. They won’t care about the bigger picture; they’ll just want to get back alive.
“You’re more intelligent than most so let me share some of the wider context. None of us here want to fight, but it doesn’t change the fact that the Bulvine Empire has stepped up their attacks on the town and farms on the frontier since the autumn. We’ve offered to negotiate peace many times on terms that are hugely generous to the Bulvine but they have refused every overture. The result is what you see now. War. We’ve been forced to act to defend our people.”
“None of that justifies all this death.”
“Really? So why did you kill that Bulvine archer? In fact, I read the report.” She tapped on the file on her desk. “You also helped to kill two of the other Bulvine. Three in total. Why did you do that?”
“Because.” Niall paused for a moment. “Because they attacked us.”
“Did they?” The Lieutenant flicked through the pages in the file in front of her. “This report says you chased down the Bulvine archer who was retreating from the fight and took her out by yourself - impressive work by the way - then you came back and shot at the other Bulvine who had not engaged you at all. They hadn’t attacked you personally at any point, had they?”
This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.
“It was my job. They were attacking my Patrol, my friends. Of course, I attacked them.”
The Lieutenant leaned back in her chair. “They attacked your friends. Then riddle me this Patrol Leader: if a Bulvine attacked your village, your family, would you defend yourself?”
“What kind of question is that?”
“The only question that matters. That’s why we fight, Vendra. It may not be your village or your family. But we fight for all the villages, all of the families, all of the innocent. But we also fight for each other. Because if we don’t then our friends will die. I know you understand that. I saw it in your eyes when you volunteered for the mission with the dire wolves.”
Lieutenant Bligh stood and walked to the exit to her tent. “You can stay her for as long as you need to get your head straight. But once you walk out, I don’t care whether you are happy or not. You stop moping around and bringing your patrol down with you. When you leave, you’re going act like you have just been named crown prince of Gwilliant. You’re not doing this for yourself, you’re doing it for your Patrol and the rest of the Militia.” With that, she left him alone.
With nothing to lose, Niall complied. The days following that talk, Niall threw himself back into his activities with renewed vigour and found that being busy helped to numb his discomfort. Even more so, after spending just a few hours pretending to be cheerful, he found his mood improved. He tried to suppress his irritation at how well the Lieutenant had judged him. Fake it ‘til you make it would not work for many people, but it had worked on him.
It helped that the patrols they carried out were uneventful. Even though they continued to extend patrols overnight, setting up cold camps with vigilant watches as they skirted the enemy territory, Patrol Theta and Squad 15 did not come across any more Bulvine.
By contrast, the training, both official and unofficial, intensified. The drills and exercises showed, and then fixed, flaws in Niall’s skills he did not even realise he had. The fight with the Bulvine patrol had showed him the level of competence he needed to reach and he pushed himself, and his patrol, to blow past mere competence.
One morning, he was out on the training field smoothly carrying out a complex sword exercise under Argon’s critical eye. His satisfaction at his skill bumped up against an undercurrent of quiet embarrassment that he had ever believed he was competent with his weapons in the past. The more he learnt, the more he realised that mastery of these weapons was still a long way.
As part of the intensification in training, company level exercises had been added in. The entire militia company was pitted against half a dozen squads of the light infantry battalion. Although the militia were still handily defeated in the first few days, eventually more and more squads of light infantry were added to the mix in order to challenge and advance the training of the militia. Occasionally, the light infantry would even be forced to use their shield Skill to secure a win.
While the Lieutenant was in overall command of the militia, on several occasions, the Sergeant and Corporals were given field command of the mock battles. At the same time the Patrol Leaders were rotated in to take the roles of the Sergeant and Corporals. It was another reminder that this was not a game: if the leaders fell then the rest of them would need to step up.
As the end of the sixth week in Forward Base Glaive approached, Niall was starting to feel comfortable in his routine and his skills. In a rare break late one morning, he lay outside his tent with his head propped up on his shield. His eyes were shut and he enjoyed the sun on his face.
He realised with a start he had not thought about the death of the Bulvine archer for several days. It would be going too far to say he was at peace with the situation but it was no longer something that kept him awake at night. In fact, he realised he was actually feeling strangely positive.
Earlier that morning, Patrol Theta had managed to break through Squad 15’s defence twice and held off their assault once. It had been a good morning, and for the past few weeks he was starting to find his rhythm and be able to hit his Flow during fights. Even better, Sergeant Strang had allowed them to finish training half an hour early and he had a moment just to lie back and relax.
“Seeing as Niall has time to lie about sunbathing, it may opportune for him to do something useful and to check his Testimony,” said Pobble as Niall corked the waterskin he had been swigging from.
Niall put the waterskin down and swiped across, jumping straight to the changes section.
CLASSES
Militia 6, 7, ... 10: +10 Strength, +10 Endurance, +5 Agility.
- Short sword 11, 12, 13
- Spear 12, 13, 14
- Shield 10, 11
- Light armour 10, 11
Militia 10: You have reached a milestone in this class. Which evolution do you choose?
UNALLOCATED SKILLS
- Flow 13, 14
- Leadership 3, 4
Niall had reached Militia 5 before they had left the army base, but it was clear that the combination of fighting and training out her had significantly accelerated his progress
Niall was immediately drawn to the comment on his level 10 Militia Class. “Pobble what’s going on with my Testimony?”
“Why does Niall always do this? Pobble is getting bored of having to repeat himself. When Niall actually fights rather than plays doing training, his class increases faster.”
“I get that, but what’s this milestone comment all about? That’s not what happened when Woodsman evolved into a Hunter Class.”
“That is why Pobble wanted Niall to check his Testimony. Niall has a choice of what to evolve his class to.”
“Well, I can read that. What does it mean?”
Despite not having lungs or breath, Pobble sighed. “Pobble sometimes forgets how ignorant Niall is.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just explain.”
“Most of the time Niall will have a straight evolution. There is no choice as Niall just moves to the evolved Class. But sometimes, when Niall has been doing a lot of different things, he will get a choice. It is not particularly common, but what Niall has been doing here is not exactly normal. When Niall has a choice of evolutions, he can only take one. Whatever he chooses, he will be closing himself off from the alternatives.”
“OK. So enough of the theory. How to do I find out what I can evolve my Class to?”
“Ah. That is the interesting bit. In order to evolve, Niall needs his conscious brain to meet with his subconscious brain. This will be an interesting exercise to confirm if Niall has a brain.”
“That makes no sense at all.”
“Niall just needs to concentrate on his Militia Class and go through. When he is ready, he should take a drink. The rest will look after itself.”
“Go through what?”
“Niall will see for himself.”
“Well, you can explain when we get there.”
“No. This is the one place in Niall’s head Pobble cannot go. Now get on with it