Chapter 2: The Desert Camp
The sun was still high on the sky, but the days were evidently becoming shorter, and dawn came later than it used to. Summer was fading, autumn was approaching. Out in the Galbadian Army's Desert Camp, though, it didn't matter what time of the year it was – the heat was unbearable in the late afternoon, and the ground was as dry as ever. An occasional breeze would bring a cloud of sand and dust with it, and Laguna had to cover his mouth, close his eyes and cough.
"Damn this desert," he muttered to himself, and the other young men that were standing closest to him gave him puzzled looks. To his surprise, Laguna noticed the entire crowd had gone quiet now, and had stood up straight, fixing their attention on something in front of them all. Or someone, rather. Squinting his dark green eyes, Laguna watched as a man in his mid-twenties walked up to the microphone. Said man had a stern expression etched on his face. His hair was black and shiny and laid flat against his head, not a single strand was out of place, and his uniform and several medals spoke of his rank. Clearing his voice, he moved a step closer to the microphone, his hands rested behind his back.
"Greetings, young recruits, and welcome to the Desert Camp. I am General Phillip Caraway, chosen personally by our new President Vinzer Deling to lead Galbadia's army." Briefly, he paused, taking a moment to gaze out across the rows of men. They weren't all that much younger than himself. "Through a year of intense training and careful guidance, my men here in our Desert Camp will do their very best to make soldiers out of each and every one of you. Naturally, a lot of you aren't going to make it. The training is hard, very hard, and anyone who feels they can't handle the pressure should kindly back out right now." Caraway put emphasis on the last sentence, and again he surveyed the crowd. A few mumbled some words. No one moved.
"Good," the general continued. "Just make sure none of you waste our time. This is our best training camp, and only the best will be trained here. As you know, we are going to need as strong forces as possible when faced with the threats of Esthar. We have every reason to believe they are going to attack – Sorceress Adel has been building up her own army, and we're convinced she's lusting for world dominance." Another dramatic pause was made, before he finally let his voice turn just a bit lighter. "If you all are certain that you do not only have the physical, but also the mental strength to join our finest ranks of Galbadian Soldiers, then all that's left for me is to wish you good luck. You will now be given your training uniforms and be shown to your rooms."
With that, Caraway turned and walked away, and a few other soldiers started to break the crowd into little groups and give them instructions on how to find the rooms that would be their home for the next year. Laguna sighed and pulled his fingers through his long, black bangs, looking around and waiting for someone to tell him where to go. Had he been doing the right thing when he chose this?
Even though they had been expecting him to stay in the home he had grown up in and someday take over his parents' farm, they had given him their blessing when he told them he wanted to see the world. That he'd ended up here in an army camp was more of a coincidence than anything. Laguna's real desire was writing, and despite his lust for adventure he always felt more comfortable with a pen in his hand than a weapon. His original plan had been to travel the world and become a journalist, writing about his experiences. Alas, it was not that simple. He left home shortly after his nineteenth birthday, and made it to Deling City, where he wrote up a few articles that he sent to various newspapers, but they were all rejected. And so he made a living out of taking several, small low-paid jobs, and somehow did earn enough to keep a roof over his head and food on his plate, though there was no way he was going to become an adventurer and famous journalist that way. For a while he had considered returning to his parents, but then he'd seen a poster that encouraged young men to join the Galbadian army. 'Defend our country', 'Fight for our glory', things like that, but what interested Laguna the most was that soldiers where sent out on missions not only on the Galbadian continent, but also throughout the world. That way, he'd get a chance to travel, earn money, and experience adventures, and it wouldn't cost him anything!
Well, perhaps it wouldn't cost him any money, but the price would be higher than he had expected. Hard work was required to prove that he was fit to be in the army, but Laguna didn't mind hard work, he was used to it after growing up on a farm. Handling a weapon came to him rather easily, and he was already adapting to the use of a machine gun. Now, three years after he'd left the Loires behind, he was here in the Desert Camp. And he had yet to learn the true meaning of 'hard work'. The year that would follow was going to shape an aspiring young writer into a soldier. But Laguna didn't know that then. All he knew was that he'd just been handed his uniform and was directed to one of the nearby barracks, and, after giving a polite smile to the cold face of the camp guard, he headed for the room he'd be sharing with two other men.
His roommates were already there, apparently, because he could hear voices inside. Carefully opening the door, he walked into the small room. There wasn't much there except three beds, a closet and a single, tiny window. Sitting on two of the beds were the owners of the voices, but they rose as soon as he entered, looking at him curiously.
"Hi, um… This is room number 287, right?" He waited for a confirming nod, then offered a bright grin and an introduction. "I'm Laguna Loire. I guess I'm gonna be your roommate."
"Kiros Seagull," replied one of the two men. Though Kiros could perhaps be considered more a boy than a man. He was barely eighteen years old, and his features were still somewhat childish, or even slightly effeminate. Yet, he was easily taller than Laguna, and very thin and lanky, almost fragile looking. His skin was dark chocolate brown, he had short, black, curly hair, and warm, witty eyes. "Pleased to meet you."
The other man was a little older than Kiros, but still apparently younger than Laguna. You couldn't tell that by his size, though. He was even taller than his dark skinned friend, frighteningly much so, and also undeniably big in width. But it wasn't all fat, no, there was much muscle there too, and he quickly gave the impression of being someone you wouldn't want to mess with. His hair was ruddy and his eyes were a surprisingly gentle, pale blue. "Ward Zabac," he said, and his voice didn't match his appearance at all. It was quiet and not as deep as you'd expect.
And unaware that he was just starting a friendship with these two that would last for the rest of his life, Laguna dropped his bag and his uniform on the third bed and sat down to chat. He found Kiros to be the most talkative out of the pair. He was charming, lively, yet his sarcastic comments were plenty and Laguna would soon become a victim of his constant, subtle teasing. Ward usually joined in on this, but he was always more silent and stayed in the background. Apparently, he and Kiros had known each other before coming to the camp. They were both from Deling City, and had joined the army with the same dreams and hopes as most young boys had. Adventure, battle, honour, the pride of defending your country. They would be trained to fight against Esthar and Sorceress Adel. None of the three had any of the experience and knowledge yet that they'd later gain as soldiers, none of them knew where this would lead them. None of them knew how corrupt Galbadia's government really was, or what they'd be going to be fighting for in the end, that they'd be practically switching sides sometime in the future.
So they stayed in the room for about half an hour, exchanging very brief life stories, a few jokes, their own expectations for the training, and bragging about the weapons they were going to use. Then there was a knock on the door and a firm voice demanded that they'd be in uniform and outside the barracks in no more than five minutes for the very first training session.
"They sure don't waste any time, do they?" Laguna mumbled.
Standing, Kiros gave one of his sly smiles and winked. "I suppose the fun's about to begin."
Fun indeed.
