Scar pointed down the end of the mustering field. It was half a mile long with wet grass and splotches of mud from last night’s rain. Every initiate in formation followed the direction of his finger, and glanced down the end of the field.
“Run the field. Until I say stop.” Scar ordered.
“NOW!” Khalia screamed.
Khalia’s scream shed any hesitation the initiates had for a moment, in an unorganized flurry of chaos, every man and woman sprinted down the field as if their lives depended on it, splashing mud and water onto one another. Their boots quickly became covered in wet mud on the first lap, but as they reached the end of the field it was evident that many of the initiates were extremely out of shape. Edalia and another initiate by the name of Henrick Morels lagged behind everyone with Henrick even having trouble breathing.
“DID I SAY STOP? KEEP GOING!” Scar yelled out from the other side of the field to the initiates who stopped at the end.
The wet and tired recruits ran endlessly for what felt like hours. Iris was always a person who stayed in shape since she had to climb trees and hunt most of her life, but even she was beginning to cramp on her legs. Arneth and another initiate of similar stature; Gregorei Astone where in an intense competition to see who could run faster. The two competitive souls were in front of the group constantly trying to one up one another.
Wigyur and Akaro both paced themselves but after an hour of running, Wigyur’s legs gave out. Akaro, who was slightly behind him, stopped to help him up. “We have to keep going. Come on.” Akaro said, trying to convince Wigyur.
“I can’t feel anything below my pecker…” Wigyur muttered, taking Akaro’s hand to stand up.
Akaro pulled Wigyur up to his feet and gave him a pat on the back then continued to run not wanting to get yelled at by Scar. Wigyur was beyond tired, but he forced himself to keep going, despite the intense pain he felt on his lower body.
After another half hour, a commotion stirred near the center of the field. Iris noticed it was several initiates crowded around something laid on the floor. Getting closer to the commotion she stopped to peek and saw that it was Henrick laid on the wet grass.
Edalia and several other of Henricks teammates were crowded around Henrick trying to wake him up to no avail. Scar pushed initiates aside to reach Henrick to see his condition. Scar took one look at the collapsed initiate and noticed he was breathing heavily.
“Who’s team is he on!?” Scar shouted from inside his helmet. Scar’s question was met with silence. “I WILL NOT ASK AGAIN!” Scar shouted, glaring around at the group that was forming around him.
“He’s in my team, Ser.” said a voice.
“Who said that?” Scar demanded to know.
“Me ser. He’s in my team.” said a young man who barely looked over the age of seventeen. He had a face void of any facial hair, only mud and sweat covered his face.
“Do you want to be sent home already boy?” Asked Scar.
“No ser. I want to be a Warden.” replied the young man.
“Then you better damned well help your fellow initiates. What if he was being hounded by the Veiled Ones?! Would you and your team just allow him to be slaughtered?!” Scar shouted with emotion carrying his tone.
Scar’s question was left unanswered as the young man lowered his head in shame. The other recruits watched the young boy get yelled at but remained silent so they would not get Scar’s wrath set upon them.
“Answer me now,” Scar said, pointing at the young and ashamed boy.
“No ser, I wouldn’t have let him be slaughtered.’” the boy responded.
Scar stared at the boy through his helm. It was difficult to see what he was thinking when his entire face was covered.
However, Scar dropped his hand back to his side and turned around walking away from the group. “Get him off the ground and take him to the infirmary. Report to Lady Metamin when you are done. The rest of you, however, keep running.” Scar ordered, walking away.
The group let out a collective groan as they were ordered to continue running. While three initiates including the young man who was yelled at, formed a small circle around Henrick and lifted him up off the mud. The three carried him off the field and headed towards the Citadel.
Meanwhile the rest continued their endless running. Another half hour of pain, sweat, and agony came along when Scar finally gave the signal for everyone to stop. Almost instantly, every initiate dropped onto their knees and laid in the mud, tired and gasping desperately for air.
Scar walked through the field of tired initiates, squishing the mud under his boot with each step he took. Scar stopped where he was and took one look at the exhausted men and women scattered throughout the field. Nervously, the initiates looked back at him hoping and wishing he wasn’t going to ask them to do anymore.
“First you train the body, then the mind.” Scar said, hooking his thumb along the blue cloth that hung over the waist of his armor. “We have class to attend. All of you go get washed then meet me in the dining hall.” Scar shouted to make sure every man and woman on the field heard him clearly.
Iris laid flat on her back in the mud, exhausted beyond belief. She held her eyes shut hoping all the pain in her legs would go away, but through her thin eyelids she saw a figure loom over her, blocking the blinding light of the sun above.
Iris opened a single eye only to be greeted by a familiar face, Akaro. The fourth member of her team.
Akaro said nothing and offered her a hand. Iris usually would never touch a stranger's hand, but her exhaustion became an exception to this rule. She reached upward and grabbed a firm hold of the man's rough hand being lifted up and out of the mud.
“Thanks.” Iris grunted, turning around and walking off with a mild limp.
Akaro stood in place furrowing his brow at the tone of her voice. “No problem..” Akaro uttered to himself, watching her limp away.
Wigyur and Arneth both came hobbling down the mustering field with their legs also similarly being cramped. The two stopped by Akaro who was completely unaware they were even standing there.
“Hey Arneth, it looks like somebody likes the Northern gals..” Wigyur joked with an elbow jab at Arneth.
Akaro quickly swiveled his head to the side realizing Wigyur and Arneth were both standing only a few feet away. “Wait, I wasn’t staring because of that! I promise!” Akaro felt a rush of heat come to his cheeks.
“Suuuuure you weren't,” Arneth said, staring at Wigyur out of the corner of his eye.
“Ok fine, so I think she's pretty. Is that a crime?!” Akaro said, crossing his arms.
“Hey, nothing wrong with that. I mean, I would have probably chosen something better than an Ivorian..” Arneth said, reaching his hand around Akaro to rest his muscular arm on his shoulders. “Now let's go get something to eat, I’m starving.”
If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
“You guys go, I’m gonna go wash up first.”
“Alright but don't take too long, I’ll grab you a tray.” Arneth said.
The three walked back to the Citadel going their separate ways.
Iris was in the female’s washroom along with thirteen other women. The washroom was a wide open space with columns scattered along the edges of a pool that was at the center of the room. The water ran along a cistern on the far ends of the pool that constantly washed away the old and dirty water, keeping it completely fresh as the women washed.
Soap of lye, lavender, and various oils were provided to each initiate. For many, this was the first time they used soap. Including Iris.
Iris had half of her naked body submerged in the water, sniffing at a bar of soap she had in her hand. She looked around to quietly observe a few others rubbing the soap on their bodies making a bubbly substance foam around them in the water.
Iris tightened her grip on the bar of soap and imitated the women she saw rubbing it against themselves. She loved the smell that it left behind on her pale skin. Iris washed the mud off of her body letting it soak away into the warm and soapy water, feeling refreshed. She swam to the edge of the pool purposely avoiding others so she wasn’t engaged in any kind of conversation, it was the last thing she wanted.
Yet, she heard a voice call out behind her. “Where do you think you’re going, forest folk?” the voice called out.
Iris turned to see three girls only a few feet away from her in the water. The girl in the middle was a beautiful brunette with chopped bangs directly above her eyebrows. The very same girl Iris had confronted on her first day at the Citadel. The other two were her roommates who had seen the entire confrontation that day. The brunette’s name was Ilya
“You think you can disrespect me then hide behind Lady Metamin don’t you?” Ilya asked.
“No one is hiding.” Iris stated, holding her ground.
“You think I’m scared of you?” Ilya scoffed, taking one large step forward.
“I know you’re scared. Otherwise you wouldn’t have brought your minions along.” Iris replied, gesturing to the two women standing behind the brunette.
A rough and scratched voice rang out from the sidelines yelling at Iris and Ilya. “Leave the Ivorian alone,” the voice demanded.
Iris, Ilya, and her two friends turned to see a fair skinned woman with long brown hair. A single braid of hair roped down the side of her beautiful face, yet her eyes sang of danger. Her eye contact was unwavering and directed towards the brunette.
“And you are?” Ilya asked.
“Garelda,” she replied.
The argument was getting attention. Everyone in the washroom began to crowd around the four who were causing commotion, including Edalia who was one of the first to come see what was going on. She was unsure whether to help Iris or not.
“This isn’t any of your business, Garelda,” Ilya said.
“It’s my business to make sure we all graduate. If that includes stopping racist arseholes such as yourself then so be it.” Garelda said plainly.
Ilya looked around to see all the faces watching her. The girl was beginning to feel the pressure of her actions. She took one more look at Iris who hadn’t changed the expression on her face. Iris really was serious about not being afraid of the girl.
“Pfft. Whatever, my legs hurt from all that running Scar made us do,” the cowering brunette said, walking to the edge of the pool. Her two friends followed behind her avoiding eye contact with Iris and Garelda.
“Right,” Garelda added, as the brunette walked away. She then looked at Iris and smiled.
Iris studied Garelda’s face, slightly wary of her presence. What did Garelda have to gain from helping her? Or was this all really a selfless act? Strangely enough, Iris felt by Garelda’s eyes that she was being selfless and only wanted to help. An expression she's only ever seen on her brother, Tunis.
“Thank you,” Iris said.
“Don’t mention it.” Garelda said. “Keep yourself out of trouble, yeah?” Garelda followed up.
“Why did you do that?” Iris asked curiously.
“Not all outsiders are bad, friend,” Garelda responded. “Some of us only want to help. It's why I volunteered to be a Warden.”
“Hmph, well thank you, again, but I gotta get going.” Iris said, turning around and grabbing the stone edge of the pool to lift herself out of the water. Leaving Garelda and any onlookers behind.
After drying herself and getting clothed, she made her way to the dining hall which sat across from the stairs that led to the initiates dorms. She opened the door and was surprised to see the dining hall was crowded with not just initiates, but Wardens as well.
The dining hall was a wide open space much like the washroom but instead of a pool there were tables scattered all throughout the room. An extended section of the dining hall’s eastern wall was completely gone, replaced by pillars leading to the courtyard at the very center of the castle.
The hall was loud and Iris’ presence went mostly ignored with everyone minding their own business and chatting with their respective groups.
Iris looked around the room for a moment scanning the groups of people for any familiar faces. Her eyes landed on Wigyur who was already sitting at one of the tables at the end of the room, furthest from the courtyard. Sitting in front of him was Arneth who was busy eating, with his back turned to the door.
Iris hesitated for a moment, but Garelda’s words rang in her head. Not every outsider is bad. Maybe some of them had better intentions than others.
Iris walked around the outer edge of the dining hall, avoiding any of the groups to reach Wigyur and Arneth. She reached the two and sat down awkwardly at the end of the round table.
Arneth took a moment to stop scarfing his food and glance at Iris. He didn’t expect her to sit with them. At least, that's what his puzzled expression said.
“Hey, it's the team leader!” Wigyur announced, grabbing an apple and taking a bite of it. “We grabbed Akaro some food but I guess he’s not gonna show up. You can have it if you want.” Wigyur said, grabbing the tray of food that was sat next to him and sliding it over to Iris.
“I appreciate it,” Iris said, taking the tray full of food.
Arneth minded his own business and didn’t even attempt to greet the Ivorian. He instead continued eating his food. Wigyur smiled at Iris and gestured for her to sit next to him.
Iris sat down cautiously next to Wigyur and inspected the food on her tray. A large piece of roasted chicken leg, two apples, and peppered corn on the cob comprised her entire meal. Without a second thought the hungry girl grabbed the leg of chicken and bit into the slightly charcoal flavored meat.
The three ate in silence despite the loud chattering of the dining hall. While Wigyur enjoyed his meals with a little bit of social interaction, the tension between his Ashkelli and Ivorian teammates was enough to keep him silent for the rest of his meal.
Wigyur was finishing up his food when he spotted Akaro from across the dining hall. He stood halfway up from his chair and waved an arm in the air to catch his attention. Akaro spotted Wigyur and waved back. Thank the gods…he couldn’t stand the awkward silence while eating.
Akaro walked through the middle of the dining hall, weaving around groups and tables of chattering men and women and took a seat next to Arneth giving the big man a pat on the shoulder. “Sorry I’m so late!” Akaro said.
“You're good, no rush to ya,” Arneth replied.
“We got you food but weren't sure if you were going to show up. So we gave it to Iris,” Wigyur explained, gesturing towards the tray of food Iris was currently eating.
“Oh, it's quite alright, I'm not really hungry,” Akaro said.
Arneth immediately shifted the direction of his body to face Akaro noticing something strange, “Where the hell were you? You said you were gonna wash up but your hair isn’t even wet.”
“Oh, I-” Akaro stumbled over his own words but his voice was interrupted by the loud and rugged tone of Scar’s yelling.
“If you are an initiate of mine, line up by the door. It’s time for class and we are running late! Hurry it up!” Scar stood by the door while he shouted.
Each initiate that was present in the dining hall dropped everything they were doing and marched to the front door, including Akaro, Iris, Arneth and Wigyur.
With every initiate lined up at the door, Scar began a head count. Scar walked along the line of initiates counting each man and woman he saw. He reached the end of the line but somehow didn’t look satisfied. He walked the line one more time, this time counting as carefully as he could.
“There are forty seven of you. Who is missing?” Scar asked.
“Henrick, Ser. He is still with the healers.” replied, one of his teammates.
“Ah, yes.” Scar muttered, clearing his throat. “Well let us hurry to class,” Scar said, adjusting the skirt-like cloth on his waist.
Scar led the initiates out of the dining hall walking to the double doors that laid directly between the stairs and the dining hall entrance. Scar pushed the doors open with both hands leading them to a giant courtyard.
The courtyard was slightly visible through the pillars of the dining hall. But its beauty was not entirely encapsulated, not until you were to stand in the courtyard itself. An assortment of white and pink lilies lined the bushes of the courtyard’s outer reaches. Dark oaks with overhanging vines provided shade, making the courtyard a place for most Wardens to unwind and relax.
A cobbled pathway led in an almost oval shape around the courtyard, only stretching around its edges leaving the center of the courtyard mostly untouched and flat.
The courtyard's center was occupied by men sparring with hand to hand combat under the shade of an oak tree. Overseeing the sparring was a man standing nearby with his arms crossed. A familiar and scarred face. Folmic.
Scar led his initiates down the cobbled path until he reached Folmic who turned to look over his shoulder.
“Ah, Paragon.” Folmic said, unfolding his arms to give Scar a handshake.
“Little bit of training before you head out for your next mission?” Scar replied, taking a firm hold of Folmics handshake.
“Always,” Folmic said.
Folmic turned to look behind Scar seeing the initiates huddled into a group. He shifted his gaze back at Scar and grinned. “Already half of the class is gone and it's not even the third day.” Folmic said.
“There will be less of them by tomorrow I’m sure.” Scar replied, gazing over his shoulder at the group behind him. “Well, we got to get going, they have class.”
“I’ll see you around Scar.” Folmic said, then shifted his attention to the initiates. “Good luck to all of you. You’ll need it.”