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Author's Note:
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"It's often only in the lies we refuse to speak that any truth can be heard at all."—Mac (DarkFever)
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Kratos stares at the buildings that would be his world for the rest of his educational life. The buildings are wide and flat-roofed with several floors. There are long fields here, one of which had distinct ringing coming from it, that can be heard clearly even so far from the actual field. There is a thick wall going around the property, several feet thick and at least ten feet high. To Kratos, it looked like the edge of the world.
Yuan isn't far behind him, having to carry the bags. He looks around, looking very out-of-sorts and small. "Might as well put you in a prison." Yuan muttered just loud enough for Kratos to hear.
They're each shoved off in different directions, Yuan towards the building where the newest students slept, nearly falling with the powerful push and Kratos with the other trainees out towards the fields.
Kratos has never been a tall kid. He wished he was, but then, he wished for a lot of things. (The only wish that had come true was his mischievous, half-elven best friend) The other trainees here seemed tall, really tall. And big, sidewise. Kratos keeps his head ducked and only looks up to check the nametags of the others. He's third in line, behind two twins named Arbell.
A general—Kratos recognizes him from some of his father's dinner parties, but can't for the life of him remember his name—is speaking, something about how there were no children in his school. How there were only soldiers-in-training who would learn duty and loyalty to their country.
Kratos is only aware that they're supposed to be moving when the boy behind him—there are no girls here, he realizes. None that were human, at any rate—nudges him forward. The school is enormous and there are several training fields that are shown to them. Combat from horseback, swords, lances, spears and—apparently this was a very new class—rifles.
Kratos lights up at the mention of a library, though the building is small in comparison to the others, squashed in between the administration and the classrooms. The windows are small and high up, and Kratos can't get a good look inside, but he memorizes its spot for future reference.
The mess hall is across a small courtyard from the library. It's long and the ceiling has a strange effect of feeling like it was going to fall on you. The tables are little more than metal picnic benches put end on end.
"The day starts promptly at 0800 hours. If you are late, expect to be running laps. There is no leaving the dorms afterhours. If you are caught, you'll be scrubbing the latrines—all of them—with a toothbrush. Cheating is not tolerated. If you are caught, expect to be mucking out the stables.
"You should all have your room assignments in your hands. The letter is the building that you're in. Your uniforms should be in your dorms already. Class schedules are to be handed out tomorrow morning at breakfast. Dismissed."
It takes Kratos what feels like forever to find even the correct building, let alone the right room. He's jostled and pushed and more than once, his shoulders scrape the walls and his knees bang on bricks. When he finds the right room, he quickly ducks inside, glad to be away from the tame chaos that was in the hallway.
Their dorm is one-room with a rickety bookshelf beside a desk and a bed along the opposite wall with a thin blanket and pillow on the floor for Yuan. Yuan was standing by the window, peering out at the school. "This place is huge!"
"I know. I just got lost in it. Three times." Kratos throws himself back on the bed and is aware of something poking him in the small of his back. He sits up, slightly annoyed and finds a now-wrinkled gray shirt and black pants. It had been the belt buckle that had been biting into his back.
Kratos stares at the uniform, measuring it mentally. "Is it me or is this uniform too big?"
Yuan looks at it and shrugs. It was a strange question to him. Growing up, he'd never had his own clothes. They were hand-me-downs and it didn't matter if they were too big because they were too small on Zaren. "Try it on."
Kratos does. The uniform is at least a size too big, the sleeves very nearly swallowing his hands and he's going to have to roll up his pant hems. Thank heavens he had a belt, or the pants wouldn't have stayed up.
"This is way too big on me!" Kratos said, looking down and spinning in a circle, as though it would change things.
"They must've made a mistake." Yuan suggested, but he's not stupid. He knew that the school asked the uniform size for its new students. And from what Yuan knew of Sandor Aurion, he wouldn't have mentioned just how small his son was anymore than he would have mentioned just how bookish he was.
He knows that Kratos' father lied about his size, but he can't tell Kratos that. Not when Kratos wants so badly to please him.
"Maybe." Kratos said quietly, tugging at the too long sleeves.
But Kratos wasn't an idiot either. But he wouldn't say it out loud because when you said something out loud, you made a promise to the air, made it real. And Kratos wants very much for it not to be real.