His walk back to the East Gate was uneventful, although he felt Ellie’s absence at his side. Their relationship had always been close, but it wasn’t like they lived underfoot; she had her life, and he his. He owed it to the events of the past week that he’d grown so used to having her with him. Ultimately, though, it was right to part ways for now. From the impression the major provided, their day-to-day lives seemed to be separating for now. He was happy about that, if only for the opportunity it provided his sister in this new world.
He felt a touch more apprehensive about his own fate. This was not the life he imagined for himself, amidst his peaceful existence in Seaport, and the future was shrouded in mystery. Quite frankly, he didn’t know what the Royal Army actually did, aside from serving as the King’s hands across the nation. Alex suspected his new superior was about to fill him in.
Approaching the rear of the gate, Alex winced as he spotted the helmetless form of Private Evenil - the woman named Lyra. He’d intended the wink to be a harmless gesture, a simple test of confidence, and certainly hadn’t banked on being forced to march right back to the scene of the crime. At least she wasn’t his superior. Private Alex, the major had called him, meaning they would be equal in rank if not in power. Small mercies.
For now, the young soldier was occupied with a blustering merchant sitting atop his wagon, face reddening at some bureaucratic obstacle. Alex recognised the opportunity for what it was; his chance to avoid her fury while he hopefully received orders that involved getting far, far away from here. He found it an unlikely prospect, but, hells, the idea was to fill himself with confidence in his own strength anyway. Maybe this was a perfect starting point.
The Gold that had previously commanded Private Evenil to let them pass was leaning against a wall outside the guardhouse, smoke trailing from a carved pipe held aloft in his right hand, index finger holding a flame to the underside of the bowl. An Evoker, Alex thought. He’d seen a few of the adults of Seaport partake in the habit, though only on the rare occasion that a merchant saw fit to haul the leaves of the Whisproot to their town.
As he made a beeline for the man, Alex took the opportunity to inspect him. Younger than his mother, and closer in age to the dockhands - that would put him around thirty years in age, give or take a few seasons. He was roughly six foot tall, with a build bordering on slender but belying sinewy muscle beneath the black-and-gold uniform, and kept his hair shaved close to the scalp. This was not a courtesy the man extended to his face, which hovered on the border of stubble and the beginnings of a beard. A thin scar ran from the centre of his cheek to the bridge of his nose, and as the man turned to look at him, Alex caught the older soldier’s light green eyes.
“Uh, afternoon, sir. Major Farrenhal sent me to report to the East Gate.”
The unfamiliar man raised a singular eyebrow, looking Alex up and down with a distant look in his eyes. Whatever the man found, he took a long blink and let out a small sigh.
“Figures they’d send us a fresh recruit. Sergeant Campbell. You got anything for me?”
Alex produced an envelope containing a piece of parchment the major had scrawled over, sealed in wax with the insignia of the royal army. Printed in red wax, it depicted four men wielding different weapons, three of them smaller figures filling the bottom while the towering fourth figure held a sword pointed downward and grasped in both hands. The King, he suspected. Alex handed the envelope to Sergeant Campbell, who broke the seal with a smattering of heat and inspected the parchment.
“Private Alex, is it?” he said. “Bronze-rank, Seaport refugee… Barker’s recommendation? The old man’s gone soft.”
Chuckling at a private joke, Campbell’s eyes blazed through the rest of the letter before he folded it up, returning it to the envelope and slipping it into his left jacket pocket. His eyes caught movement over Alex’s shoulder, lighting up, and he placed two fingers into his mouth and let out a piercing whistle.
“Unit, form up! We’re done for today.”
Nearby soldiers whirled in a flurry of motion at the command, enthusiasm plain in their movement. Two soldiers emerged from the gatehouse, and another three descended from the wall above with varying methods; one simply jumped from height, landing with a heavy thud. Another floated down slowly, air currents softening their descent, and a third simply climbed down the ladder positioned at the rear of the gate. Finally, Private Evenil walked over. The unit formed an orderly line at rest, hands grasped behind their backs.
Alex caught a glimmer of muted relief in Private Evenil’s eyes before she spotted him, and it quickly turned to outrage. Her jaw visibly clenched as she took him in, nostrils flaring ever so slightly, but she didn’t break her stance for a moment. Alex thought he spotted her teeth grinding, but it passed, and her expression returned to the professional visage he’d seen adopted several times already. Let’s hope that doesn’t become a problem.
Campbell lazily inspected his unit’s posture for a moment before nodding and stepping to the side, raising an arm as if to present Alex to the assembled soldiers.
“Unit, this is Private Alex. He’s the fresh-faced recruit that headquarters decided to dump on our shoulders.”
“...Good afternoon?” Alex said.
All six of the assembled soldiers looked him over. Aside from Private Evenil’s repressed expression, the reaction was mixed; an older pair, those who had been in the gatehouse, gave him weary stares; a man and a woman. A younger man, Alex’s senior by a few years, looked curious. The remaining two, both men, regarded him with plain indifference - though Alex thought he made out a hint of annoyance in one of those looks. Finally, Campbell looked back at his squad with a knowing look, before turning to face Alex again.
“Private Alex, meet the 119th Combat Unit of our dear Royal Army. I don’t care for long introductions, so listen up.”
Pointing to them in order, he reeled off their ranks, names, and affinities.
“My second, Corporal Sadir, Imbuer.” Campbell indicated the older man who’d given Alex a weary look. The man inclined his head.
“Lance Alera, Ruler.” that would be the other member of the weary-looking pair, the woman. She blinked at him, frowning slightly.
“Private Second Tirus, Evoker.” The young man with curiosity in his eyes smiled at Alex.
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“Privates Second Smit and Smither, both Augmenters.” The indifferent pair nodded stoically, the shorter one called Smit and the taller Smither. It was Smit who’d seemed a touch annoyed.
“Finally, though I believe you’re acquainted, Private Evenil. Augmenter. Do try to get along.” the man pointed finally to the young soldier who’d manned the gates. Lyra, Alex thought. She simply stared at him.
Short of Campbell, the Gold-ranked sergeant, every one of the assembled soldiers wore a Silver rank-plate around their neck. All of them had glanced at his neck, looking for his own rank-plate, and found nothing. Their visible reactions didn’t change at the knowledge that he was merely a Bronze, but he thought those stares may have distanced a little. Not the best start. How about we warm this up a little?
“Nice to meet you all. Private Alex, Imbuer.” Alex said, bowing his head slightly in the direction of his new comrades. “I’ll be counting on your help bringing me up to speed.”
That earned him a veritable slew of reaction. Corporal Sadir’s lips thinned into a resigned smile, while Lance Alera rolled her eyes and looked away. Private Tirus broke out into a grin, shooting him a quick thumbs-up. Smit released a soft sigh, looking Alex up and down again with renewed annoyance, while the larger Smither simply nodded. Private Evenil, Lyra, didn’t react at all.
Better than nothing, for the most part.
Campbell clapped his hands and all attention returned to him, a knowing smile plastered across his face.
“Well said, private. Squad, we knew this was coming since we lost Gerrick. Better get used to it now, cause there’s no way headquarters is changing its mind. I won’t tolerate any resentment in the field.”
The sergeant carefully expected the faces of each soldier, expression piercing, and one-by-one they assented to his order with a nod. His eyes lingered on Lyra’s stony features for a second longer, eyebrow twitching, before she inclined her head. A lazy grin sprawled across his lips.
“Grand. Now, if nothing else, Private Alex’s arrival does come with some good news. We’ve got orders.”
Corporal Sadir looked up sharply, a note of anticipation in the movement. “New orders, sir?”
“Tell me we’re done with babysitting duty, sarge,” Lance Alera said, her eyes flicking to Alex. “At least the gate kind.”
Campbell nodded. “We are. One of the northern towns, Reliquia, lost its army presence to the defensive operation. Which means monster activity has spiked. We leave at dawn to exterminate.”
Alex was caught off guard by the collective outburst of relief from the unit, with Tirus going as far as to pump his fist. Even Lyra seemed to soften up at the news, her chin pointing higher into the air and the whisper of a smile dancing across her lips. He hadn’t expected a fight to the death to be cause for celebration, but it seemed he had much to learn about his new comrades. A mote of excitement formed in his own chest.
“Yes, yes, calm down. Intelligence has the threat at Silver-rank, max, so it’ll be an easy one. Exactly what we need to put the new recruit through his paces.” Campbell said, inclining his head toward Alex. “You’re released for the afternoon. Except Tirus and Alex.”
“Sir!” the unit jointly replied, snapping off sharp salutes - closed fists slamming into their rank-plates - before they dispersed in different directions. Sadir and Alera walked away together, while Smit and Smither mirrored their joint departure. Lyra relaxed her stance and took off at a brisk walk, long hair catching in the wind, and Alex’s attempts to catch her eye were met with a granite wall of indifference. That wasn’t unexpected.
As a new squad of soldiers arrived to take up their post at the East Gate, Campbell exchanged a few quiet words of greeting with the other sergeant before returning his attention to the pair. Alex wasn’t yet sure what to make of Tirus, with his cheery attitude and blatant curiosity, but the slightly older soldier hadn’t stopped giving him a toothy grin since they’d received their orders. Their Gold superior approached, eyes lidded and smile growing lazier by the second.
“Right. Tirus, I need someone to show Alex to the barracks. Get him set up with his kit while you’re at it, then you’re free to go.” he turned to Alex. “You, my young friend, are not. The armoury will issue you with a unit roster and field manual, and I expect you to have everyone’s capabilities memorised before you hit the hay. Clear?”
“Yes, sir.” Alex said, giving his best approximation of the salute he’d witnessed earlier. Campbell chuckled.
“Good enough for now. On your way.”
Tirus grabbed Alex by the shoulder and dragged him back in the direction of the Regnal Road leading deeper into the city. When they’d gained some distance from Sergeant Campbell, he patted Alex on the back three times, before slinging his arm over his shoulder. Tirus’ face remained lit into a wide grin.
“Should I be worrying for my chastity, or something?” Alex replied, slightly frowning. He hardly knew this person, and his open display of familiarity put Alex on guard. Seaport could never be called a place of many lessons, but the occasional confidence trickster made their appearance. He’d never forget losing two silver to one such tutor.
“Alex, Alex, you’ve got me all wrong.” Tirus replied, laughing. “It’s not your chastity I’m interested in.”
“What the hells are you talking about?” Alex said.
“Come on. Of course I’m excited. Did you even look at the rest of the squad?” Tirus raised his free hand, counting on his fingers. “Sadir and Alera are high Silver, so they’re about as approachable as the nunnery. Smit’s got a murder complex, Smither’s as fun as a dry alehouse, and Evenil…”
He paused, then shook his head.
“I prefer to keep my head on my shoulders.” Tirus said. “No, young Alex, until today I’ve been consigned to the most barren wasteland of fun. Right until you arrived.”
“What type of fun are you talking about, Tirus?” Alex said, raising an eyebrow. “No disrespect, some of the townsfolk sailed under familiar winds, but that’s not my…”
Tirus rolled his eyes. “You’re misunderstanding, though I personally sail whatever winds float my boat. No. I heard the boss. A small-town youth in the capital, bedazzled by the sights and seeking a life of adventure…”
The older man trailed off, waving a hand in front of him as if to wipe away the stars.
“I’ve been waiting for a kindred spirit to get into trouble with. Now I’ve got him. You and me, Alex, will turn this town upside down.”
Alex’s eyebrows hit the roof. He’d barely been in the capital a day, and now he was being recruited for troublemaking? His instinct was to decline. There were too many important things to do. He had to get stronger as fast as possible, to impress his new squad, to keep an eye on Ellie, to…
He paused. Captain Sydney’s words rang in his head - his brief, drunken lecture on strength and its many forms. His ability to fight was important, yes, and the past week had proven that to be true. Sydney had spoken of other kinds of strength though. Confidence was one of them. Who did he know that was more confident than his stranger, so eagerly treating him like a friend mere moments after they met?
“Alright. I doubt this’ll go well, but I’ll join you.” Alex said.
Tirus’s laughter filled the air, drawing the attention of a few passers-by, and he patted Alex once more on the back.
“That’s the spirit. I had a good feeling about you, Alex.”
Then, he met Alex’s eyes, and the glee dissipated. Tirus’s smile dimmed, turning both serious and expectant, and a fire burned in the depths of his pupils that caught Alex by surprise.
“First, however, we’ve got monsters to exterminate.”