Edwin stepped out of the command center, taking a deep breath of cold, fresh air. Once Bordan and the section chief had gotten into the minutiae of their logistical situation, he had quickly lost interest. Seeing Leodin’s and Salissa’s eyes glaze over as well, Edwin had suggested they go and check on the barracks they would be using, and Bordan had agreed.
“What’s your take on all this?” Edwin asked as they strolled out of the building’s courtyard into the fort proper. “You two haven’t said a word since we got here.”
Leodin shrugged. “Didn’t feel like there was anything to say. We’re only here as Bordan’s guests, they already had to dumb it down just so we understood what they were saying.”
“That’s fair, I guess,” Edwin said as a formation of soldiers passed by them from the opposite direction. It seemed like a number of banners were returning from outside the fort, maybe from maneuvers or some other kind of training. Several of the passing soldiers sneaked glances at the adventurers. “So, what do you think?”
“Dunno,” Leodin said with a shrug. “Sounds bad, I guess, but it was already bad anyway. I don’t really know what it means that we have ‘fewer cohorts of heavy infantry than we should’, I’m still hung up on the whole magic business.”
“Me too,” Salissa added with a nod. “They said we shouldn’t be at the frontline anyway, right? I’m sure the army people will figure it out, one way or the other. What scares me is that mages will be fighting, too. Well, proper mages.”
Edwin furrowed his brow. He wanted to respond that not having a College education didn’t make her less of a mage, that in many ways she was better prepared than her former teachers, but he didn’t feel like she would be receptive to it right now.
“I suppose,” he finally said, as the three of them stopped at an intersection because a formation of soldiers was turning into a side path, blocking their way.
“Edwin?” he suddenly heard a voice from nearby call, and he looked around in confusion to find the source. “And Salissa and Leodin! Good to see all of you again.”
The speaker was one of the soldiers, the officer marching next to the formation. It took Edwin a few seconds to recognize the man under the armor, but when he did, he couldn’t help but smile.
“Lieutenant Elm! What a pleasant coincidence. I apologize for not recognizing you right away, I’m still struggling with the whole uniformity you practice here.”
“Didn’t check the flag,” a voice from inside the stopped formation commented, eliciting a wave of chuckles. “Quiet in the ranks!” one of the bannermen shouted, and Elm rolled his eyes.
“We heard that a number of adventurers would be joining us, and we were really hoping your party would be among them,” he said to the adventurers. “Look, I need to get these louts off the road, we need to square away our gear and get some food. If you have time, why don’t you come by our barracks this evening? We never got to talk after the battle, and we didn’t see you at the ceremony.”
Edwin exchanged looks with his companions, then answered. “Of course, we would love to. We were just checking on our own accommodations, but we will gladly come by after. I’ll try to bring Bordan too, he’s still busy at the headquarters.”
Elm gave them the location of their barracks, then moved on, spurring his banner into a run, because “If you have enough breath to chatter, you’re not tired enough!”. Edwin looked at the bobbing flag, only now noticing the small, green ribbon that was attached right below the blue-and-white gull flapping in the wind. After the extermination of the goblin nest, the de facto leader of the adventurers, Gerrit, had suggested that the soldiers receive a medal for their service. The medals in question were exceedingly rare, so instead of giving out a whopping fifty of them, Master Hector and General Asher had decided on a different kind of reward. The first banner had received a campaign ribbon, a small piece of cloth in Adventurer’s Guild green that would remain on the banner’s flag for as long as the unit existed. At first, Edwin had thought it a cheap consolation prize, but Bordan had explained to him that it was actually quite a big deal.
“You don’t get those for just anything, only for participating in something big. It’s a permanent addition to the flag, something that will be carried on by the banner long after all the current members are retired or dead. Having a ribbon added to your flag means being part of history – a huge honor, especially for a bunch of recruits. They’re the only ones in their division to have one, and it will stay like that for a long while.”
In a large ceremony on Pel Darni’s main square, Baron Lidion had personally attached the ribbon to the flag to the applause of thousands. Edwin and Bordan had been there, but there had been no way to get through the crowd and congratulate the soldiers. Edwin was glad that they were doing well, and when the adventurers turned off the main road themselves, Edwin realized that the encounter made him feel a little better. They weren’t completely alone in this new environment after all.
--- ----- ---
Their reunion with the first banner was a joyful event. Lieutenant Elm had even arranged for some food and drink – no alcohol, sadly, as they would be going back out to train bright and early the next day – and when the party entered the barracks after having picked up Bordan, they were greeted with cheers and applause. Edwin was quickly overwhelmed by the soldiers shaking his hand or slapping his back, so he soon retreated, seeking shelter with the lieutenant. Even though the entire banner was off duty, there was a small circle of respectful distance surrounding the officer.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“I admit that I’m a little taken aback,” Edwin said as he sat down next to Elm. “I know that we fought together, but we were just one of several parties, and it was Gerrit who was in charge.”
The lieutenant raised his eyebrows over the edge of his cup, then set it down and cocked his head. “Interesting. I think that maybe you experienced events slightly differently than we did, then. Yes, there were other adventurers there, and we consider them brothers – and sisters – in arms as well, but what you did was different. Let me see, how do I best explain this…”
Elm looked around, rubbing his hands in thought. “We didn’t know what to make of you, at first. My men are all from around here, so they hold adventurers in higher regard than people from where I’m from, but it was when your group seemingly effortlessly weathered a goblin ambush, led by hobgoblin no less, that they began to respect you four. Especially after you, Edwin, ran through the night, all alone in goblin-infested territory, to get one of ours a healer.”
“Huh,” Edwin replied eloquently. He had actually forgotten about that last part. So much had happened before and after it, that the short run from one town to the next had faded into the background.
“It was your party that found the nest, too, bringing back enough intelligence that we could draw up a plan of attack without needing to do any further scouting.”
“Well, that was just Bordan,” Edwin said. “He’s good at these kinds of things apparently.”
“It seemed like it. And then there was the battle, of course. ‘The battle of Goblin Gorge’, as people called it afterward. Silly, I know – nobody in their right mind would call that place a gorge, but it is a nice alliteration.” Elm smiled, lightening the mood a little, though he sobered up immediately. ”When that shaman threw fire at us, I thought that was it. Salissa’s shield saved all of us, and in a very spectacular fashion as well. And then she nailed that bastard to the ground while it was still picking up its jaw. Most impressive thing I have ever seen, hands down.”
“It really was quick thinking on her part,” Edwin agreed with a smile. She truly had come a long way since that day in the practice yard. Elm gestured toward the mage. Her face was bright red, and she was awkwardly shaking the hand of an equally awkward-looking young soldier.
“After that, despite being apparently out of magic, she risked her own health to save the life of Paril over there. He has been wanting to thank her ever since he woke up, you know. The rest of us might have survived without her, at least some of us, but there is no question in anyone’s mind that he is here now because of her. And you, I think, although I still do not quite understand what you were doing.”
“We only managed to save one, though,” Edwin said quietly, the faces of the dead flashing before his eyes.
“Saving everyone only happens in fairytales,” Elm replied, waving away his objection. Edwin looked at Elm, suddenly seeing the man in a new light. During the extermination, the blonde-haired lieutenant in his mid-twenties had seemed quite young for his role, much like Edwin’s own teammates, but maybe that was because Captain Vellis had been there, looking over Elm’s shoulder every step of the way. Or maybe the expedition hadn’t just been a valuable experience for the recruits, but for their leader as well. The lieutenant seemed… capable. Confident. Not the confidence of an old hand like Bordan, gained through decades of experience, but the confidence of a man who didn’t fear that things might go bad, because they already had, and he’d come out the other side just fine.
“She has become somewhat of a lucky charm for the men,” Elm continued, unaware of Edwin’s musings. “so knowing that she is going to fight with us is a serious boost to morale. To say nothing of you, of course.”
“Me?” Edwin asked, confused. “Why would they care about me?”
“You are joking, right?” Elm chuckled. “After the magic showdown, we had been fighting for quite a while already. All of us were tired, getting by mostly on adrenaline and stubbornness. I was basically out of the fight myself, and so were a dozen others. There was no way we could have held the hobgoblins’ charge. They would have broken up our formation, which was the only thing keeping us in the fight in the first place, then taken us apart one by one. We might have won, eventually, but most of us would have died in the chaos. And then you came flying out of nowhere, killing the first one before it even reached our line. There were five of the scariest, most disgusting monsters I have ever seen bearing down on us and you stepped in front of the shield wall. You’re their hero, Edwin, plain and simple. You are who they want to be when they grow up.”
Edwin ducked his head, embarrassed. Suddenly, the cheerful reception made sense, as did the glances he had been receiving all evening. He really didn’t know how to feel about that, although ‘uncomfortable’ was definitely heading in the right direction.
After enjoying Edwin’s embarrassed expression for a few seconds, Elm stood up and loudly rapped his knuckles against the back of his chair. The room quieted, and the lieutenant raised his cup.
“I drink to the fallen of Goblin Gorge.”
The soldiers immediately raised their drinks, the adventurers following as best they could. When all cups were in the air, the soldiers intoned:
“May they find peace.”
Everyone drank. Edwin was about to put down his cup when Elm raised his again.
“I drink to the living who take up arms in their stead.”
“May they find victory.”
The words were spoken quietly, but with fervor. These were not empty phrases, the gathered soldier had experienced death, had stared it in the eye and had steeled their resolve to do so again. Then, a third time.
“I drink to the duchy, home, and hearth.”
“May they be ever protected from harm.”
As the words filled the cramped room, Edwin felt like he began to understand the appeal of becoming a soldier. He didn’t much care for most of it, he certainly didn’t have enough of an attachment to his homeland that he would want to defend it with his life. Standing among the others, the murmured oaths reverberating in his bones, something stirred in the parts of him that Walter thought he had left behind forever when he gave up his mortality. Even this small taste of being a part of something greater, of standing with others to achieve things none of them could on their own, resonated with the tattered and patched fabric of Edwin’s humanity.