A rough kick hits Trek in the side, waking him up from his hellish nightmare of that faint full day.

“Wake up. You’re going to miss training again if you don’t get up you lazy bum.” A rough voice said.

Cracking open his eyes, Trek sees his friend Lotar smiling back in his face. Noticing that Trek is finally awake, he walks over to his bunk to finish putting on his gear. Trek sits up, rubbing his face, and dreams of the day when he doesn’t have to relive that moment anymore. He walks over to the wall where the wash basin is located and splashes freezing water onto his face. Now that he is fully awake, he notices that there isn’t anyone else in the barracks with him. He heads to the trunk at the foot of his bed to put on his gear stored within, knowing full well what was going to happen to him once he stepped outside where his company was waiting for the morning practice to begin. So much for the dreams of being a war hero he thought as he threw on his leather armor.

Trek enlisted into the Plains army ten years ago, after being found in a ditch covered in mud to hide from the goblins. The commander of Fort Gorgan agreed to take him in, under the pretense of him joining once he turned sixteen. Since then, Trek has had his fair share of battles against goblins, broken bones, friends dying, and training until he couldn’t stand anymore. This definitely isn’t what he dreamed of when he wanted to join the army. He wasn’t the best sword fighter or archer in his company, but he got by.

After finishing putting on his gear, he headed outside to the training yard to receive his daily reprimand for being late.

“Well look who decided to grace us with his presence.” A man with short cropped hair, a long mustache, and a build built like a lumberjack said.

“I’m so glad you showed up your highness. Company. ATTEN-TION! Bow before your highness.”

All of the men that were gathered snapped to attention and bowed with grins on their faces, as the Captain continued to harass Trek.

“You would think that being in this company for ten years, you would actually get up on time for once! I suppose you want everyone to set their clocks to Trek time, huh? Get your ass in formation before I have one of the Weavers burn it off!”

Trek wasn’t surprised by the harassment or threat of the Weavers. He came to enjoy the verbal abuse every morning from his Captain. It’s not like he could actually get a Weaver to go through with it anyways. They were all tied up with other important matters since they are the only ones who are able to actually cast magic by weaving their hands in intrinsic patterns and bellowing words of power.

As Trek got into formation, he moved to stand next to Lotar. His burly friend looked at him and shook his head while laughing.

“It never gets old, does it?” Lotar said while slapping his back.

“Maybe not for you.” Trek countered back. Lotar gave him a wide grin.

During the morning practice, they all got broken up into pairs of two to practice sword forms, sword striking, and shield defense. Trek as usual paired up with Lotar to go through the forms. For sword forms, one person would move and correct the other as they go through different movements with their sword. After the forms, they move to striking which consisted of using the sword forms into a more offensive measure. They would strike each other until someone scored a “slap” from the others blade and then it would start all over again.

Trek thoroughly enjoyed the strikes because it wasn’t him getting slapped each time but Lotar. Lotar was built with muscle, more for the shield wall than anything else, where he could use his muscle against the enemy. Lotar was able to get Trek back when they moved on to shield defense. Lotar using his heavier weight, pushed Trek down repeatedly by bashing his shield with Treks. He may have walked away with red splotches on his body from Trek but Trek now has bruises on his arm to thank him for the slaps.

“Ha! You hold a shield like my mother!” Lotar teased.

“Yeah, yeah, keep talking. At least I’m not the one who looks like I caught canker rot.” Trek made a show of pointing out the red splotches on Lotar’s body.

They both laugh at each other, glad for the brotherhood that they have between one another. After the Captain calls for an end, they clasp wrists and went back into formation.

Once practice was done, the men broke off into groups to start their designated shifts that were laid out by the Captain. Trek and Lotar soon found themselves walking towards the chow hall to break their fast.

“Another patrol around the North gate! So pointless! The goblins haven’t shown up for months now. I’m sure they won’t be coming back out after the last skirmish we had against them.” Lotar spits on the ground as he remembers the fight.

“If you would even call it a fight. They didn’t even make it to the shield wall thanks to the Weavers taking all of the fun.” Trek responded.

“HA! I know how you covet the powers that the Weavers hold. You just need to get over it. If you weren’t born with it, you aren’t a Weaver.” Lotar said as he wiped the back of his hand across his mouth of the excess spit that didn’t quite make it onto the ground.

Trek shakes his head while thinking, yep that’s my best friend alright. “I thought it would manifest when I turned sixteen. Then I would have a guaranteed spot in the Weavers Core.”

As they come upon the chow hall, they see three guys standing off to the side watching people enter and leave the building. They look like the typical soldier with leather armor, reinforced leather pants, and a sword hanging from their belt. The one in the middle had bright red hair and towered over the other two. Looking like a giant with bulging muscles and a nose to complement their kind. He started to flex his muscles, tightening the leather armor around his chest when he saw the two friends walking up.

“Oh great, what did you do to Leech this time?” Lotar whispers under his breath.

“He’s probably still mad I took his money in Rune. The cards were in my favor last night and I don’t think he believes that.” Trek said.

Leech and his men stepped out in front of them, blocking their path to the building. “I want back what you stole” Leech said looking menacingly at them while being flanked on both sides by his lackeys.

“We have already been over this Leech, you suck at Rune.” Trek said.

Leech squints his eyes looking like he is about to pounce on Trek to choke the life out of him for making such a comment, especially in front of his men.

“We both know you cheated and if you don’t give me my money I will have to take it out on you instead.” Leech said knowing his men will spring into action if he needed them to.

Lotar, being much bigger then all of them, stepped in between them. “Alright you need to calm down Leech even I know you suck at Rune, so does everyone else in this God forsaken Fort. Step aside so we can go eat.”

“Oh, look at this! It looks like someone needs his big guard dog to take care of his problems for him.” Leech sneers as his men snicker.

Lotar smiles. His right arm shot out, belying the quickness his body shows and grabbed Leech by the throat. Right at that moment, everyone busted into action. The two men on the sides jumped forward to grab at Lotar to help free their leader from the bear like grip. Leech grabs Lotar’s hand and tries to pull it off but is stuck like a vice around his throat.

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Trek snaps to the right side of Lotar and throws a kick behind the knee of the lackey. The lackey’s leg buckles from the kick and falls to his knees. Trek follows it up with another kick from his left leg aiming at the chest. The lackey catches Trek’s calf before it connects and using the force from the kick, pulls him down to the ground. Seeing his advantage over Trek, he jumped onto him and started to rain punches in his face.

Lotar throws his left elbow up just in time to hit the lackey in the head before he got too close, causing the lackey to fall down backwards. Lotar threw the dead weight in his hand onto the lackey laying on the ground.

Lotar started laughing while he watched the two flail around on each other like lovers. He then remembered Trek taking the man out on his right and turned to see if he needed help. The sight that graced him was pitiful.

Trek had his arms up to block the punches as the lackey kept pummeling him with his fist. Lotar reached down to grab the lackey by his armor and threw him over to land in the pile of bodies he already created.

Just as soon as Lotar finished the throw, a voice shouted out, “Hey! What’s going on over here?” A man dressed in blue leather armor marched up to them. When being promoted to the rank of Battle Sergeant, you dawn the coveted blue leather armor telling others of your experience gained on and off the battlefield.

The rank structure for the Plains army is very unique compared to the other armies in the land. You become a recruit upon joining the army and promotes in the following order, Recruit, Sergeant, Battle Sergeant, Captain, Field Captain, and Commander. Weavers fall into a different rank structure and promotion system as they advance in power. Coming in as a new Weaver, you go through the following promotions, Initiate (sub rank of Battle Sergeant), Specialist (sub rank of Captain), Professional (sub rank of Field Captain), and Master (sub rank of Commander).

“We were practicing our sword forms sir. When I went to correct one of their stances, well he fell and took the others with him.” Lotar said giving the Battle Sergeant is full attention.

The Battle Sergeant stared at him for a while with an analyzing look. “Well don’t just stand there with your thumb up your arse! Help your fellow war brothers up and get moving. Next time I catch you “practicing” while out of the training grounds, it will be latrine duty for a week!”

“Yes sir!” Lotar said snapping his arm across his chest in a respectful salute, he bent over to help up the men twisted like a pretzel. The Battle Sergeant grunts his approval and walked off.

Leech slapped his hand out of the way while muttering a curse under his breath. The men stare daggers at Lotar as they pull themselves from each other and start to stand up.

“Don’t think I won’t forget this Trek” Leech said and added with venom “and your guard dog”. He dusted himself off and stormed away calling Lotar every foul name he could think of.

“Well that was pretty easy.” Lotar said reaching down to give Trek a hand.

“Easy for you to say, you have the muscle to back it up!” laughs Trek.

Trek clasped wrists with Lotar and thanked him for his help. Then they headed into the chow hall for some much needed grub. After breaking their fast, they broke off to head to their respective patrol shifts. Trek to the main gate and Lotar to the North gate. Trek didn’t mind the patrol shift around the main gate since you’re mainly being a babysitter for the numerous of traders and merchants coming in and out of the Fort.

When he got to the guard shack stationed on the inside of the gate, he relived his partner from his shift and sat down in a chair against the wall. There were several other soldiers gathered around a table full of cards playing Rune. One man started to get heated with his words about losing a fifth time in a row. He stood up and kicked back his chair. Raising his voice, he demanded that they give back his money.

Trek shook his head at the irony of the situation he had just came out of with Leech. He knew where this was going so he got up at left the shack. As the door closed, there was a crash of chairs and someone grunted from a punch.

He decided to walk toward the merchant stalls in the market square to see if any merchants had anything worth trading for. Being in the army, you got a stipend every month but was meager by all means. Luckily, Trek had some extra coins to play with from winning games of Rune the other night and eager to see what they had to offer.

Upon entering the market place, he heard merchants yelling from their stalls to people passing by, trying to coerce them into coming over to their stall. Each one promising that the product they sell is the better one compared to the others. With as many stalls as there were, there are only two ways to use their products, you either wear it or eat it.

Trek came across a stall with a young woman standing next to an older man, holding up necklaces that sparkle in the sunlight. He noticed that she had long brown hair that reached halfway down her back and a bright yellow dress that made him think about the fields of wheat surrounding the Plains. Her skin being the typical tan of a fieldworker, standing in the sun all day. The older man was more rudimentary with wearing a white cotton shirt and brown cotton pants. His hair grayed with age but having a spark of youth in his eyes when greeting a customer.

Well there’s a beauty you don’t see every day. Trey thought to himself as he walked up to the stall.

“Ah a customer! What can I help you with today? Interested in anything you see here?” The older man said.

“I’m just looking right now but thank you.” Trey said.

The older man grunts in recognition of someone who isn’t going to buy anything and turned his attention to another possible customer.

Trek scoots further down the stall to get a better look at the young woman who beamed like the morning sun.

Whatever you do, don’t lock eyes with her. Then she will definitely know that you were checking her out. Trek thought while casually looking at the jewels and necklaces. Before he knew it, he was standing right in front of her. He jumped once he heard her voice speak.

“Is there anything that interests you?” The young woman asked sweetly.

Of course there is Trek thought. “I was wondering where these jewels came from” Trek said. I was wondering where these jewels came from? Stupid Trek, stupid.

“Oh, of course! These are from…” The young woman began. She went into detail about each and every jewel there in front of him.

Play it cool man, play it cool. Remember what dad use to say, “A woman will always like you until you open your mouth”.

“What’s your name?” he blurts out without thinking. Really? He thought, so much for being calm and collective.

Startled by the sudden question, she pushes a lock of hair behind her ear and replied “My name is Rebecca. What is yours if you don’t mind?”

“Trek. Trek Fermoth” Trek said.

“Well Trek Fermoth, do you have a favorite from the ones I mentioned?” Rebecca said while she waved her hand over the jewels.

Great, I was too busy thinking and wasn’t paying attention to what she was saying. “I, uh, can’t decide on a favorite because they all look very nice.” Trek said. Hm, that might work he thought.

She looked at him with a quizzical look until they heard the older man yell, “Rebecca! Leave the man alone, we both know he isn’t going to buy anything. Move on to the other BUYING customers.”

Rebecca said her goodbyes and moved to the next customer who was looking at some necklaces.

Trek looked over at the older man and visualized him poking the older man in the eyes with his fingers. The older man waved him off like he was swatting at a fly that buzzed around him.

Trek turned and walked away. Don’t look back at her or it will make you look desperate he scolded himself. Feelings overcame the rational part of his mind as he stole a glace back at the beautiful woman.

As he glanced back, they both managed to lock eyes with one another. Trek quickly turned his head back around but not before he saw Rebecca put on a smile.

Trek continued to walk through the market place. He stopped at one stall to buy a piece of dried meat that was at best a small improvement of the food in the chow hall. After he tossed the vender a coin, he headed back to the guard station at the main gate.

On his way back to the guard station, he decided to take a detour to where the Weavers normally had their training practice.

He heard the training before he ever saw it. “Tar’ut!” “Fentor!” Words of power were being thrown in the air, as loud crashes and crackling sounds started to erupt from the training yard. What first graced Trek’s view was a flash of light followed by a loud snapping noise. He saw that one of the Weavers in red leather armor, anointing his rank as a Specialist, was showing the others how to form a yellow whip out of pure energy. When the Weaver cracked his energy whip, he saw a bright light erupting from the place of impact with a loud snap. The Specialist started to tell the other Weavers around him about the energy and will needed to keep the whip in its form. Then he told the others to make their own energy forms.

Trek watched, the Weavers as they formed their energy weapons one by one. Each one wove their hands in intrinsic patterns until a yellow glow completely surrounded their hands. With a shout of power, shapes took form in their hands. Some took the example shown by the Specialist and made whips. Whereas others, made different weapons like a sword, a polearm, a chain, and a rope with spikes at the end. After a command from the Specialist, the area lit up with lights as the Weavers worked their weapons against the training dummies.

If I only had that kind of power. Trek thought. And do what with it? March right up to a group of Goblins so I could be devoured under their relentless numbers? He shook his head as to answer himself. I would dominate anyone who got in my way. He thought instead, allowing a grin to form on his face.

Thinking that he had been there long enough. Trek slowly pulled his eyes away from the Weaver’s training and went on his way toward the guard station.

Opening the door to the guard station, he noticed that everything was the same as he left it before he heard the obvious fight that broke out. The only evidence that anything even happened was a black eye on the one who started it.

As he sat back in the chair he sat in earlier, he started to watch the Rune game continue in front of him. After a while, he decided to show these guys how to truly play the game. He pulled up his chair to the table and slammed down his coins in the middle which made the other coins jingle.

“Deal me in boys.” Trek said with a smile. The others smiled back at him, eager to take his money.