Now Zan felt intrigue. “Special mission?”

“Yes… so you see, although I have seen your fighting skills first-hand, and although I know my men would not judge young fellas like yourself too harshly for desiring to fight alongside of them, the fact is, it might prove a challenge integrating you and your friend into our regular units. I know, with time, you would be another one of ‘the boys,’ but time we don’t have; furthermore, integrating you, as a member of a martial order and as someone who, under good auspices or not, fought alongside rebels, might prove an additional challenge. Instead, I want to circumvent all of that and assign you a few of my trusted men to send you on an auxiliary mission to help support the advance of our main column. If this sounds good to you…” Winters said, to Zan’s great surprise.

“Uh… yeah, no, it sounds great!” Zan said, still in shock.

“Let me be clear, Zan: although you will command my men, they are obviously still loyal to me and their command under you will remain dependent on them, believing you are a commander worth following. I am entrusting you with their command because I have seen you handle yourself multiple times in combat. I know you are no pushover. You have heart to spare! I want to see you thrive. Not only as a countryman, but as someone with a future in this country after the war.”

“I… am honored, sir! I honestly am,” Zan sputtered.

“As you should be. Okay. Be here at the rise of two suns and we will set off. Please do attempt to bring your friend. Prepare well, and I will see you soon!” Winters said, rising to shake Zan’s hand, then leaving to prepare the way for what had to be a list, and a half of tasks left yet incomplete.

Zan walked as composed as he could out of the room and down the stairs, outside to the street. Once free of the eyes of the mature soldiers and the rest, Zan ran wildly to the tavern, kicking up hipping-hops because he was so happy. He had to tell Jiehong!

Lazily looking into the tavern, his finger above the tiny button to hail his friend, Zan removed his finger when he saw Jiehong sitting at a tavern table near the window, laughing heartily with a foamy drink-in-hand.

Feeling a pang of ‘what is this drinking fool doing now?!’ Zan stormed into the tavern. Immediately, a wave of noise hit his senses, as the aroma of cheap beer stung his tongue through his parsed lips. Zan attempted to swallow his indignation before he approached Jiehong as he did not want to yell and scream at his friend for his consumption when he had been the one to say ‘consider my absence time off,’ while then proceeding to spend a lot longer away — with Luxley — than he intended. Two needed to tangle to dance, he told himself.

“Jiehong!” he said with authority.

Everyone at Jiehong’s table, mostly young locals who looked like an age post-university, turned to look at him.

“Oh! Everyone! It’s my buddy. You know. The one!” Jiehong said with a slight slur to his speech.

The people greeted Zan, but Zan felt it was not genuine. Not like it mattered, but still… it caused in Zan a wonder related to how Jiehong talked about him. Zan would not think Jiehong the type of person who gossiped behind someone’s back. Yet badmouthing people, as he saw in his village when the elders talked, could evidently be a nice way of blowing off steam and solidifying bonds. Ergo, who knew how Jiehong talked about him to random strangers he wanted to impress?

“Jiehong. I need to speak with you,” Zan said, his voice both calm and composed.

“Listen. Finish up the drinks. Then let’s head out to either the command center or to find a room here. Colonel Winters is entrusting us to help with an important mission. He is even letting soldiers of his command temporarily take orders from us. He and I agreed to a special mission. A couple of days is all we have.”

“O-okay…” Jiehong stuttered. “Why n-now? We have… couple of days, right? Leave me to my good time. R-recover. Have a couple yourself,” was all Jiehong said before returning to his table.

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Zan wanted to argue with him, but he refused to let himself be dragged down into a senseless screaming match in a public location. If Jiehong wanted to let off steam with drinking, then fine! How many times could they fight about something before it became pointless?

The night passed pointlessly.

Jiehong continued to drink. Purely out of boredom, Zan had a couple of drinks since Jiehong said he would pay for everything. As long as Jie had the money — undoubtedly from his parents — Zan also ordered some food to fill his appetite and a bard to play a swell song to help drown out the roar of drunkards.

Then they slept. Zan slept well. Jiehong less so… with all the puking.

They took it easy the next day. Zan practiced some sword moves, had Jiehong read to him certain selections from a magic-use textbook. They explored the town. Zan volunteered them to help a few of the townspeople with their problems.

By the end of the day, they were both beat, Jiehong sweating like a pig.

Vomited a couple of times like a pig, too… poor bastard, Zan thought to himself humorously. But that’s what happens when you choose to consume literal poison…

Zan convinced Jiehong to turn in early. Due to the events of the day, it hardly took any convincing on his part. They turned in early and each restored themselves fully to the splendor of sleep. Waking early in the morning, though with an attitude about them belaying how much they could not lie still if they got one more moment of sleep, as they were ready to tackle the day, Zan asked, “You have your combat gear, right?”

“Do you see it?” Jiehong asked.

Zan looked. He saw a full belt of grenades — both kinds — with his folded bike and special armored garments. “Yeah. You do…” Zan said.

The room cleaned, as they were checking out, Jiehong paid the tab, and they were off down the street. Jiehong muttered, “I don’t know why you sign us up for this stuff.”

Zan was not at first going to dignify Jiehong with a response. Yet it struck such a cord, he couldn’t hold it back. He said, “Because it will help free our country from foreign occupation, Jie…” and left it at that. Jiehong did not bother with a response.

Leaving the front gates, Zan and Jiehong saw a significant mass of soldiers. Dozens by the looks of it; a mass, Zan reminded himself, which supposedly included the bulk of the province’s defensive forces. It was absurd, of course. The lord of another province demanding the lord of another province come to his rescue at his personal villa… yet Winters thought he had no choice. So what could Zan do? Bulk at the inane when fate seemed to be giving him a chance to prove himself first hand?

Although Winters spoke briefly about the situation to everyone who gathered, his speech was not much of an empowering call to action. It was more… ‘we gotta save this aristocratic. The sooner we free him, the sooner we can return to our posts and hope the enemy doesn’t launch a full invasion of the province. So, let’s all band together and get this done, and fast!’ He used some fancier words. But the speech amounted to as much.

Down the road and nearly at the Western Way, when the caravan stopped for a brief rest, Colonel Winters took Zan and Jiehong aside to talk to them about their mission.

“Boys,” he said. “Follow me.” Away from the maddening crowd of soldiers joshing about, Winters spoke to Zan and Jiehong in private. Beautiful song birds chirped while the colonel talk.

“Zan tell me you have a special mission for us?” Jiehong asked while the birds sang.

“Yes. Correct, Jiehong. Both of you know how to conduct yourselves and because it is easier to give you resources rather than risk problems integrating, I think a mission like this, purely trial, is the right way to go about it.”

“Understood. So, what is the mission?” Jiehong said. Zan patiently waited.

Winters spoke clearly: “The mission will be to secure a bridge ahead of the main column’s advance. The bridge is not an overly large construction, neither is it currently heavily defended. Therefore, this will make a great opportunity for you to test your skills in battle and as a commander before the final assault on the villa.”

Zan nodded along. “Sounds up our alley. And doable. What’s the catch?”

“No catch, my battle-brothers. Only, well… you do have to use standard army flags while commanding royal army troops. I will teach you those flags now.”

Winters’s tutorial lasted far longer than Zan would have thought. So many flags. It did not help that several of the flags looked the same color. How was Zan supposed to lead troops with these… flags, if several colors meant more than one? Zan would compensate. He was sure in battle, the meanings and designations would meld into a contextually appropriate revelation, depending on the situation.

Their break over — not that a mission briefing and lecture on flag use was much of a break — the war-party resumed its ride. Zan felt the pull of destiny on his shirt’s collar. He would either thrash and burn or rise and rebirth. This excursion with the colonel might very well be the kick-jump he and Jiehong needed to get their order off the ground. He would succeed. He knew he would. He had to.