May, 535

“Thanks for helping me out, Stanley.” Buddy Jones loaded the last boxes into his wagon and looked back at his store. “I can’t believe I’m finally leaving this old dump.”

Stanley Freeman chuckled. “I’m sure the buildings’ll be much nicer down in Arlington, won’t they? I’ll make a trip out to you sometime whenever I’ve got the money, promise.”

“Ah, you don’t gotta do that. Spend your money on something nice for once.” Buddy walked back into his store with Stanley not far behind. Buddy’s family had owned the general store for three generations, and as such, they had seen many come and go from Heldenstadt’s Market District. Inside was a small, naturally lit room with empty bookshelves that used to hold all kinds of goods but now sat collecting dust. In the middle was a counter that used to hold a register but now only had a teapot and two cups. A stool sat on either side of the counter, so they sat.

Buddy poured Stanley and himself a cup of tea. They sat in silence for a few minutes while sipping quietly from their respective cups.

Stanley had always enjoyed coming to Buddy’s store. Although shallow, the main reason for this was due to how Buddy treated him. Stanley’s family had lived in the Red-Light District of the empire’s capital for as long as he could remember. Although his father had worked for the Empire’s Legislative Court, their family’s reputation dwindled to a pulp simply because of where they lived. Many would see those who lived in the R.L.D as barbaric, criminals, and lesser people, but not Buddy. Buddy’s family would often visit the district with high-quality food and goods to distribute to the lowest class of people. It was there that Stanley and Buddy grew close and became close friends.

Stanley was the first to break the silence. “So, what will happen to the store once you’ve gone? I can’t imagine it’d feel good to see it go to someone else.”

Buddy placed his cup down on the countertop. “Sure, of course, it won’t feel good. But from a young age, I was taught that change is good. I’ll go to Arlington and set up a new shop. Meet new people and allow that place to go a generation or three. I’d been thinking about it for some time now, and I feel this is the right time to do so. I’d have preferred to go to, say, Rivercrest, on account of it being the trade center of Alcrest, but the northern countries aren’t exactly the greatest of places right now.”

“Right, it’s even under Reinbose right now, or so the rumors say.” Stanley finished his cup of tea and placed it beside the teapot. Buddy picked up the pot as if he were to fill up the cup, but Stanley declined with a wave of his hand.

“Yeah, that’s what I’ve heard too. Arlington’s stayed neutral to the whole thing, even from the beginning, so it’ll be good to get away from the mess that is this war.”

“Yeah, I can imagine.” Stanley looked outside the store through the large glass windows to see children running up and down the street.

“You know,” Buddy took a sip of his tea. “Why don’t you come with me? You and I could set up shop together, and we could make it big. It’s not like you have anything here; Einrich despises you.”

“The entirety of Einrich?” Stanley remarked in a joking manner. “I doubt everyone in the Market District alone has even met me.”

“They may not hate you, you. But they hate the idea of you.”

Stanley looked outside the store once more. One of the children playing outside must have tripped and fallen as his mother was standing over him, nursing him to health. “That may be the case, but I’m not going to run because of it. And even to that point, not everyone hates the idea of me. For starters, there’s you.”

“And next week I won’t be in the country.”

“Well, um, there’s my father.”

“Yeah, your father. The drunkard that doesn’t even give you the time of day. Face it, Stanley, I know your mentality is to persevere until the end of time but isn’t it good sometimes to take the easy way through life? Taking the path less traveled will only tire the feet. Wouldn’t you want to take a nap at a rest stop occasionally?”

Stanley thought for a moment. “Even if it tires my feet, I’d rather have a blistered sole than cushioned one.” Stanley stood from his stool. “Don’t get me wrong; your offer is one that I don’t decline lightly. Maybe you’re right, and maybe I don’t have anything here. But that doesn’t mean I can’t make something out of the nothing.”

Buddy sighed and looked down at his watch. “Well then, I best be off.” Buddy finished his cup of tea and took the tea set to the back room. “It should take a day and a half to reach the bay and then a short distance across the channel. Everything is set to go. Thank you for your help.” Buddy came from the back room with a suitcase in hand, likely with the tea set inside, and stuck his hand out to Stanley. “It may not have been long, but it was good to know you.”

Stanley shook Buddy’s hand. “Hey, what’s with the sappy attitude? This ain’t gonna be the last time we see each other. I guarantee it.”

“Right.”

The two stepped outside, and Buddy locked the front door for the last time. He looked up at it for a minute or two before turning towards the wagon. Buddy placed the suitcase in the back of the wagon and locked it up. He climbed onto the front of the wagon, where a horse stood waiting to get going. “Well, my door will always be open if you ever decide to swing by. You’re sure you don’t want to join me?”

“Do snowflakes fall in the winter?”

“Not in the Red-Light District.” With a tip of his hat, the horse took off, and Buddy was gone, leaving only a dust cloud in his wake.

Stanley stood in front of the store until the wagon was entirely out of view. The children and mother who had been here had since left, probably to patch up the kid’s knee or something like that, and Stanley began his walk home.

The distance between the Market District and the Red-Light District offered Stanley a forty-five-minute walk through the Middle Districts comprised of the middle class of Heldenstadt. Because of his nearly daily walks, he had become somewhat known to the frequents of his route and would often get scoffed at because of his heritage. It didn’t bother him, though, as he had become accustomed to the way people treated him and expected no more.

Heldenstadt’s streets were narrow and winding. Except for a few town squares along his route, there was little room for more than two wagons going both directions along the road. The buildings lining the street were connected in a snakelike fashion, with the occasional break in the snake for an alley. Some would have a balcony overlooking the road below, and many who did hung their laundry for drying.

Despite being just shy after noon, there weren’t many on the street. Many children were likely in school while their fathers went out to their places of work. Those Stanley did see always went as far away as possible when passing him out of fear of being mugged or something along those lines. Still, Stanley paid no mind to it.

Then, along the road, Stanley noticed a man. He did not cringe at the sight of him. Instead, he leaned closer. He was a shorter man, extremely built. He wore what appeared to be the country’s military uniform, a purple jacket with a deep blue accent running up and down the entire body. He didn’t wear a hat, which seemed strange as all the militants Stanley had seen always wore hats. While he barely passed out any flyers, you couldn’t not notice him, given his thunderous and deep voice.

“SACRIFICE YOUR ARMS TO THE GREATER GOOD OF THE GREAT EINRICH EMPIRE! LIVE UP TO YOUR HONOR AS A CITIZEN OF THIS GREAT NATION AND FIGHT THE REPUBLIC DOGS!” He repeated those sentences with slight variations over and over.

Oh, how convenient. Stanley thought. Just as one opportunity closes, another shoves itself right into my face. I’m either the luckiest man alive, or Ein above is out to get me.

Stanley walked up to the shorter man, and the height difference became more apparent. Stanley wasn’t by any means a tall man, but the loud short soldier made him seem like a giant. “All right, you’ve enticed me.”

“WHAT A NOBLE MAN WE FIND OURSELVES IN THE MIDST OF! HE’S READY TO FIGHT NOBLY FOR HIS COUNTRY AND DESTROY THE REPUBLIC DOGS!”

“All right, dude, you have me right in front of you. We don’t need to shout like I’m halfway across Alcrest.”

“Apologies. You’re one of only three who have shown interest in destroying the republic. I just wish to make an example of you to the crowd of sheep. Even then, the two who’d come before you only did so as a prank at my expense. I was unaware of the number of republican sympathizers within the capital city alone. Fighting nobly on the front lines in Rivercrest will do that to you.”

“Ok, let’s not spill our entire backstory. Do soldiers make a lot of money?”

The short man raised an eyebrow. “Whatever do you mean? Of course, they make money! I’m starting to think you’re another one of those pranksters who-“

“Ok, that’s great.” Stanley quickly interrupted the man after hearing the information he needed. “How do I join?”

The man scoffed. “Well, I’ve never seen a less noble soldier than you. If money’s all you’re after, the guardian force fits you.”

“Guardian Force?”

“What, you’ve never heard of them? They line the border between the Land of Solitude and us, and all they do is sit on their asses all day waiting for the next attack from the Men of Gordon, even though all of them are dead, if not close to death by now.”

“And, this is shameful to be a part of?”

“Of course! There isn’t anything less noble than joining the military to be a part of the Guardian Force. Rather than killing republic dogs, you wait for a task force to attack that might not have even existed, to begin with! So, yeah, a place like that is perfect for money-hungry traitors like yourself.” The man shoved the flyer into Stanley’s chest. “If you want to join anything, period, show up to the training grounds over in the Sur District, on the southern portion of the capital, in two days’ time. It's like a tryout but for only the noblest.”

Stanley looked at the flyer. On it was a date and time along with the location of the training grounds below patriotic jargon used solely to entice unsuspecting individuals. There was an image of the empire’s crest in the middle: a purple and blue design with a white owl as the centerpiece. Looking back up at the man, Stanley thanked him and crumpled the flyer into his pocket.

He continued walking, turning down some more roads and eventually making it to a town square, where the road opened up to a large open area with shops, people, and a fountain that marked the middle of the court. Stanley sat down at the fountain for a quick breather and watched the children who weren’t old enough for school run around. He could see nine total, four boys and five girls. All seemed to be siblings or friends, and their mothers sat at a table across the way conversing about popular middle-class topics. Once he sat down, however, the mothers frantically called their children away from the square.

Figures. Stanley thought. He turned to the fountain, which continued to spurt water out.

He turned back around to watch as the children fought against their mothers, now pleading to head back to their homes. This wasn’t anything new to Stanley, so he paid no mind to it.

Wait a minute.

Stanley counted the children once more. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8…

There were only eight children.

Stanley quickly rose to his feet and glanced around the square. There were only so many places that the child could have gone, and it hadn’t been so long since he had last seen him, so he eliminated the four roads that outstretched from the square. There would be no way the child would be in the store the mothers situated themselves. If that were the case, he wouldn’t be missing, so Stanley eliminated that option.

“Is something the matter, sir?”

Stanley jolted around to find the source of the voice he heard. The boy who had disappeared moments before was now standing in front of him. The boy wore brown suspenders holding khaki shorts over his white button-down shirt. He donned a flat cap and black dress shoes with shin-high socks to complete the outfit.

“You look unwell. Is everything all right?” The boy asked once more. His face showed visible concern.

Stanley laughed to himself and put his hand to his forehead. “No, no, nothing is the matter.” He looked back up towards the mothers, still fighting their children about heading home. “I just thought I’d forgotten something, that’s all.”

The boy looked relieved for a moment before smiling at Stanley. “You’re awful considerate, aren’t ya?” The boy jumped down from the fountain and ran towards the mothers, now tugging on the children’s arms to get going.

Stanley looked back to the fountain. It kept spurting water as if nothing had happened to begin with. By now, the mothers and their children were well into the depths of the street, far away from Stanley. He looked up from the fountain and continued to trek home.

Although the shortest route to the Red-Light District was to follow the women, Stanley opted to take a slightly longer way so as not to appear to be following them. The roads seemed similar, but now with a bit of variation. Rather than snaking buildings with the occasional balcony, there were now separate homes with a gated yard in front. Rather than narrow winding roads, they became straight and wide. This wider road saw more people than the narrow road, likely because of the importance of a road this large.

At the end of the road was a T-intersection, in which, right in the center, was a chapel for the Church of Hrofth. Since before the Great Calamity, the church had been in existence and worshiped the deity of light, Ein. The chapel wasn’t the largest, as the closer to the Einrich Palace you got, the larger the chapel was. If nothing else, it was a good way of locating yourself within the empire’s large capital city.

Service had just ended as many men, women, and children were exiting the chapel, with the priest standing in front wishing everyone a wonderful day. Not wanting to be seen, Stanley sidelined the street and rounded the corner at an immense speed. Once he had done so, he turned around to look at the chapel once more. He saw the families exiting, no more than five per group, and saw the children along with their parents joyfully resuming their daily activities. Stanley wasn’t a family man, but he couldn’t help but feel jealous.

Stanley never knew his mother. According to his father, just a year following his moving to the Red-Light District, he met her at a bar, and they hit it off. Once Stanley was born, however, she thrust all of the work onto him and disappeared. Stanley had no idea how much of his stories to believe, but he did know that he had never even seen photos of her, so the story isn’t entirely unlikely.

His father, on the other hand, was a complete drunkard. Once holding a respectable position on the Legislative Court in Heldenstadt, he had been framed for something terrible. Because of that, he was stripped of his entire estate and title, forcing him to enter the Red-Light District. This, however, is also all according to him, so how much of it was true can’t be said.

Stanley had stood there for too long, as people were starting to notice and become wary of him. Even here, he had been known as a Red-Light District citizen.

How the hell does word get around so quickly? Stanley wondered.

If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

* * *

Stanley continued his walk home once more, finally reaching the entrance to the Red-Light District while it was still light out. The opening was not welcoming, as a singular, dilapidated gate created the only actual door for the district. The difference in housing was noticeable as well. Rather than the long snaking rows of homes, or the larger detached houses, the Red-Light District had stout, run-down buildings that couldn’t pass as houses even if they tried. The district was never the prettiest, with the occasional two-story apartment complex dotting the scenery. There were no roads, just different pathways that intertwined the buildings leading from one place to another. Before heading home, Stanley’s first thought was to check Louie’s, a popular bar in the district.

Louie’s was situated deep in the district and had been around since before the lights flashed red. It was the only reasonably stable building and thus the most popular with the locals, Stanley’s father included.

Upon entering Louie’s, Stanley was greeted by several older men and women he’d grown to know. The bar had an orange tint to it, likely due to the color of the lights he used to illuminate the room. The bar itself ran along the back wall with several bar chairs, all filled with people. In the middle of the room were tables, each populated by people.

Without needing to look hard, Stanley found the man he’d come looking for, George Freeman, his father.

George had sat at the bar and was surrounded by men and women alike, seemingly attracted to something he had in him. “I’ll get another round of beers for the lovely folks here, Louie!”

Louie, shining the glasses that had been previously used, sighed as he noticed Stanley enter. “As much as I’d love to indulge, I believe you have company.”

“Company!?” George exclaimed, glancing all around him. Finally noticing Stanley, they looked each other in the eyes with silence. George turned back to the bar. “Oh, hello, Stanley.”

One of the men who sat next to George got up to make room for Stanley, who sat in his place. “Hello, Dad.”

The two sat in silence for what felt like hours. Stanley and his father had become somewhat famous due to their relationship, and everyone present at the bar knew that. The voices of chatter slowly died to a silent hum, the only sound hearable being the sounds of Louie shining the glasses.

“Have you come to chew me out again like every other time you enter this goddamn bar?” George grabbed his glass of beer and took a sip. “I’ll tell you right now that nothing you say ain’t gonna change shit!” He turned to Stanley and stuck his finger into Stanley’s chest. “So, I don’t need to hear any horseshit out of you, you hear me?”

“I hear you, and that’s not what I’ve come to say, not this time.”

George turned back to the countertop and took another long sip of his beer. “Oh, really? So, what is it you’ve come to tell me?”

“I just thought I’d tell you that I’ll be leaving tomorrow for the Sur District to join the military. That’s all.” Stanley got up from his chair to leave. Not two steps from the bar, George jumped up and grabbed his shoulder. Stanley turned his head to face him. “Oh, do you have something to say about- “

Not a moment late, George had punched Stanley across the face, knocking him down to the ground. “How stupid of a stupid son did Ein give me?!” He screamed. “Why would you want to fight for this god-forsaken country of ours? What in Ein’s name did it do for you? Kick you to the ground? Belittle you and treat you like some animal? Is that the country you want to stand for?” George threw his hands in the air while Stanley struggled to stand. “And here I thought my son wasn’t entirely braindead. Take a look around you, Stanley. Do you know where we live?”

Stanley looked at his father, dumbfounded.

“That was a question for you, you good-for-nothing son of mine!”

“The… The Red-Light District.”

George bent down and picked Stanley up by the collar. “Very good. We live in the Red-Light District. Do you know what that means?”

Stanley did not reply.

“It means we are the lowest of the low. Not much more valuable than a five-kilogram pig. To the people of Einrich, we’re no better than the republic themselves. Hell, I wouldn’t blame them if they let the president of the damn place walk given a choice to get rid of one of us.” George let go of Stanley’s collar as he glared into his eyes. “You want to fight for those people? The people that betrayed us? That left us here to die?”

Stanley did not reply.

“And now he’s gone mute.” George turned and stepped back towards the countertop. “We are discussing this at length tonight. I don’t want to see you until then. Get out of my sight.”

Stanley left Louie’s and began the short walk home. Unlike outside the district, the grog in the air caused the sun to disappear at nearly every point of the day, so he couldn’t tell if it was still daylight or if the sun had set. Either way, he was to head home.

Stanley and his father lived on the second floor of one of the apartment complexes scattered about the district. Inside the home was a single room with a bathroom in one of the back corners. The big room housed enough room for a table, and a kitchenette lined the entrance hallway. There was a singular window on the back wall looking into more grog. There was no back door, just the express front door, a severe fire hazard should the apartment building go up in flames.

That said, so is every other building in this damn place. Stanley thought.

Stanley had a few books that Buddy had given him over the years, and so while he waited for his father to come home, he decided to pick up a book and start rereading it.

* * *

Time passed, and Stanley had grown tired of waiting. After setting aside his belongings into a bag he owned for the trip he’d make the following day, he laid down on his mattress on the ground and dozed off, hoping his father wouldn’t wake him the next day.

The following morning, Stanley awoke to his father slumped over on the table. It appeared that he arrived sometime after Stanley had fallen asleep and passed out drunk upon the table before he could get a word out. Although Stanley didn’t know what time it was, he knew it would be a full day’s travel to make it to the Sur District, situated in the heart of the capital, near the Palace District.

Stanley put the book he began rereading the previous night into his bag and made for the door.

‘Cough, cough.’

Behind him, Stanley saw his father rise from the table as he wiped the drool off his face. “Oh, morning, Dad.” Stanley attempted to make a break for the door but was interrupted.

“Stanley, before you go, let me get a word in.” George rubbed his head furiously. “First of all, what I said last night were my real thoughts. I don’t think this is a good idea at all. I don’t know if the Jones kid gave you this inspiration or what. But what I do know is that you’re making a mistake.”

Stanley sighed. “Dad, I know what-“

“Hold on.” George stuck his hand out as if telling Stanley to stop. “I wasn’t finished. I may think this is a mistake, but frankly, I don’t know what I’m right and wrong about anymore. This is a mistake in my eyes, but it could also be the greatest success you’ve ever had. You don’t have my support, not even a sliver of it. But what I want you to know is that I won’t stop you from doing the things you want to do. I recognize that you’ve got me beat in more categories than one, including happiness, and I’m not sure where it comes from.”

George sat once more at the table. “As a father, I’ve failed you more than I’ve failed myself. I drink all day and get pissed with every little move you make as if I’m no better. There is no atoning for the mistakes I’ve made, and part of me wants to let you go to do just that.” George looked out the back window and then at his hands. “But then there’s another part of me that wants to persevere. I don’t know where that part of me comes from, as I thought I lost it long ago, but it seems that it’s come back for this reason alone.”

He looked back up at Stanley. “Should you decide to go, I won’t support it, but I’ll do my best to accept it.” George stood up and stepped up to Stanley, grabbing both of his shoulders. “But, should you decide to stay, I’ll do my best to atone for my unforgivable sins. I’ll raise you to be the best son a father could ask for. I’ll tell you everything I know, introduce you to the people I call my friends, and I’ll… I’ll…” George let go of Stanley’s shoulders.

“Dad,” Stanley began, “I understand what you want to do, but before you’d be able to raise me in the ‘correct’ way before you can begin to atone, you have to look at yourself first. Fix the things wrong with you before you can fix the issues in others. I’m sorry, but I’m heading out.”

“Right.” George stepped back and sat down once again at the table. “Well, best of luck then.”

“Thanks,” Stanley replied.

* * *

The trip from Stanley’s home to the Sur District was just about as eventful as his trip from the Market District to the Red-Light District, though the change in building style was much more drastic. The further he got from the Red-Light District, the more Stanley noticed the increasing size of the buildings. He had rarely been out this close to the Palace District, and because of that, many were not quick to judge based on his appearance alone.

The streets went from broad to more expansive, the houses gained gated yards the size of buildings in the R.L.D, and the people went from wearing everyday clothes to fancy chapel clothes as if they were a regular attire. Women wore parasols and large dresses while the men donned straight tuxedos. Children and teenagers wore similar clothing, though less refined given their age.

The streets were more populated as well, likely due to many upper-class citizens not needing to attend schooling. The roadside saw street painters, musicians, and the like entertaining the empire’s nobles. The center of the street was carved in half by a line of trees, each in the full bloom of the summer season. Parks were more abundant as well. A grassy open field would show itself with many noblemen and women enjoying their time with games, picnics, or conversation every few homes.

When Stanley arrived at the Sur District, the sun had already set. He did not care where he’d spend the night as long as it was a place to lay his head. He brought no money and thus could not stay at any inns, so he found one of the parks and laid down on the grass.

The sky was filled with stars. There was no space on the canvas above him, no matter where Stanley looked. In the distance, a chapel bell could be heard. The voices of a crowd were slowly diminishing as people returned to their homes, and in the end, all Stanley could listen to was the wind blowing through his hair and his breathing.

As much as he wanted to pull out his book and begin reading, as he often did before falling asleep, he knew that the little light he was working with would not be enough, so he closed his eyes and dozed off.

Stanley was awoken by the sun and noises of birds, the chapel, and the early morning crowd. He reached into his pocket and took out the flyer he had been given. It had a location of the training grounds. He didn’t know what the address meant, so when he reached the street, he asked a man walking by where the training grounds were located, and the man pointed him in the right direction. After thanking him, Stanley made for the settings that would determine his future.

The training grounds were a large rectangular grass field gated on all ends. In one portion of the grounds was a sandpit, likely for training for the desert. There were already people standing in the middle. Most were conversing with one another, some were stretching, and others were running in place or doing exercises to prepare.

At the front of the grounds was a ticket box used to admit candidates. Stanley walked up to the box and put his flyer in front of the woman running admittance. She glanced at him and sighed as she grabbed a piece of paper and a pen.

“Write your name on the line. Remember the number next to it.”

The paper he had been shown showed several signatures already, with numbers next to them. Probably for keeping track of people. Stanley thought. He wrote his name next to the number 301 and stepped into the grounds.

Looking to his left, he saw several bags lined on top of one another. Stanley put his bag down next to the rest and made his way to the ground’s center.

Given my number was 301, there are probably three hundred others trying to join, but it doesn’t look like there are even one hundred.

Stanley found a space to sit down, and he watched as everyone warmed up for the tryouts.

“Man, I didn’t expect there to be this many people.” A voice came from Stanley’s left. A tall man walked to him from the ticket box and stuck his hand out. “Kastor Gregor, number 302, a pleasure to meet you.”

Stanley stood up and shook his hand. “Stanley Freeman, 301.” Kastor’s height was much larger than Stanley had initially thought, nearly an entire head’s length taller than him.

“Oh! 301, then! It looks like we’re number neighbors!” Kastor laughed. “In all seriousness, do you really think there are three hundred people here? I was looking around, and it doesn’t seem like it.”

Stanley glanced back towards the crowd. While there were undoubtedly many people, there were nowhere near enough for three hundred. “Yeah, I was thinking the same thing,” He replied. “But even then, it isn’t a huge deal. It makes it easier for us to get in then.”

Kastor laughed again. His laugh sounded forced to Stanley, and it was so loud you could probably hear it in Reinbose. “So,” Kastor sat down, Stanley following suit. “Which branch are you trying to go out for?”

“To be frank with you, I don’t think I have anywhere in mind. I’m just looking to get in, get paid, and get out.”

“Ah,” Kastor looked back towards the ticket box. A few more came through the gates and situated on the grassy field. “So, I guess the Guardian Force would be for you, then.”

“Yeah, that’s the second time I’ve been told about that thing. Is it really that bad to join it and not be on the front lines?”

“Hmm… I don’t know.” Kastor turned to Stanley. “I guess purists will say it’s a disgrace to go out for it, but the way I see it, you’re still putting in work no matter what you do.”

Ah. Stanley stood up and noticed a few people starting to gather in a cluster. “What do you think is going on there?”

Kastor stood up. “I’m not sure. Let’s go check it out.”

They raced over to the group, where they found a pocket in the middle for two men who appeared to be fighting. The crowd circled the two was rowdy and barbaric, pushing and shoving each other as they all wanted a better view. Stanley, used to these situations in Louie’s, was able to snake his way to the inside of the circle.

The first man was severely beaten. He had blonde hair and wore a white tank top drenched in sweat. With no sleeves, anyone could see he wasn’t the most muscular man in the world, but he wasn’t a toothpick either.

The other, a much more muscular man, wore a tank top as well, though colored in maroon. He had barely any bruises and looked like he had just woken up with how little sweat came from his pores.

“Come on, Rietveld!” The muscular guy called out. “Is this what your traitorous family raised you to be?!” He lunged forward at the blonde man, carrying his entire weight. When the blonde dodged, he crashed into the front few spectators.

The blonde man held a defensive stance with his hands, using his lighter weight to his advantage. “I’m not here to instigate any fights, Henry. Let’s just calm down and wait for the captain to get here.”

The muscular man got up and scoffed at the blonde. “There you go again with your annoying, people-pleasing attitude that somehow allowed you to live this long.” He exclaimed, pointing his finger toward him. “Well, not this time. Mommy isn’t here to protect you no more.” He raised his arms and turned towards the crowd. “Fine spectators of the crowd, the man who stands before you today is none other than a Rietveld! He is no more than a traitorous scum whose ancestor revolted against this great empire and created the dogs of the republic we know today!”

The crowd erupted in noise that couldn’t be deciphered.

“Now,” The muscular man continued, slowly walking towards the other contender. “How far has the empire fallen such that we now allowed traitors amongst our kind? To fight for us!” He stopped a foot away from the blonde and spoke directly to him, much quieter than before. “And who’s to say that he won’t just turn on his tail and run to the republic once on the front lines?”

That line got the blonde man riled up as he jumped forward to the behemoth. However, before he could make contact, the muscular man grabbed his hand by the wrist, threw him to the ground, and planted his foot onto his chest. “This is what dogs like you deserve.” He mumbled as he drove his foot deeper into his chest.

“ENOUGH!”

A booming voice came from outside the crowd. It broke up and showed a uniformed man standing at attention. The muscular man stood dumbfounded for a moment before saluting the uniformed man. The blonde coughed a few times as he slowly rose from the ground.

The man in uniform walked up to the two. “Henry Kistler, and Leonard Rietveld.” He reached into his front breast pocket and pulled out a small note. “I was told that I was getting a strange crowd today, but I apparently wasn’t briefed enough.” He mumbled to himself before putting the note back in his pocket.

The uniformed man clapped twice and ordered everyone to stand at attention in line. Not a second passed, and the crowd was frantically racing to their spots. Stanley found Kastor out of the group and stood next to him as the rest of the crowd formed a straight line.

The man walked up and down the line, inspecting each candidate and their build. In front of Stanley and Kastor, he pulled his note out and nodded twice before putting it away and continuing down the line. Once he had made it to the end, he walked to the center and positioned himself a distance away from everyone else to allow them to see him.

His dull eyes scanned the crowd in front of him as if the examination had already begun. Standing firm, he placed his hands behind his back, puffing his chest outwards in confidence. Despite being part of the imperial uniform, he bore no cap, and in its place was a bald head. His face was unshaven with a large scar that ran vertically to the top of his head.

“Good morning, candidates. My name is Jacob Asante, and I am a captain for the Guardian Force along the border between the Einrich Empire and the Land of Solitude, and your examiner this morning.”

Amongst the crowd, there were a few murmurs, mostly out of disbelief that the supposed weakest branch of the military was in charge of the examinations.

Someone a few people to Stanley’s right spoke up.

“The Guardian Force?” He laughed. “This must be a joke, why would anyone from them come out and bother with us? Shouldn’t you be bumming around the border wall and-”

Before he could finish his sentence, Asante pulled out a handgun and sent a bullet at the candidate’s feet. The ground exploded as the contender jumped back in fear. Asante, now wearing a smug look across his face, twirled his gun and placed it back in his holster.

“Apologies, it appears my gun has misfired. Such a shame that is, happens from time to time. Do you mind repeating what you said? I was, unfortunately, unable to hear it.”

Standing back in his place, the outspoken applicant shook his head in silence. Asante nodded and began speaking once again.

“I’m aware many of you have a poor vision of the mighty Guardian Force, but I should illustrate to you the purposes of this examination. If, we, the Guardian Force, are the weakest of the branches of Einrich’s military, then should we determine to deem you unworthy, it wouldn’t be unfit for the ‘more prestigious’ branches to refuse to even glance your way. The purposes of these examinations are to weed out the significant from the insignificant. The talented from the untalented.” He began to pace back and forth in front of the line of candidates. “The examinations will comprise of two phases, both of which will occur today. This means that each and every one of you standing before me will know the outcome of their trials by sundown. Do I make myself clear?”