In the pitch dark of the pre-dawn day, I sat in the dark inn room lit by only a candle by my side, my sights laid out to the window where outside lied the inhabitants passing about, clamoring to start their day.
One year.
Training and mulling hasn't really been enough to stave off much of the boredom, but at least now the time's come. The 104th training corps. Where all the thick of it begins, and where I'll be descending to. And the bottom line's survival. Capital S. Survival. And then some.
Writing notes does help with all of it, but I've grown a gradual wariness with it that what I've jotted down's been made so it only seems schizophrenic ramblings to any other foreign eye. Keywords and years marked in probably the poorest handwriting I could. But not in any cohesive order but by my own sorting to be a reminder. Complete with scratches of ink or pencil just to be careful too. All in separate pieces of parchments, folded as small a size it could be.
There are inklings and preoccupations coalesced in my head of what I've had out for things to come, but they were only scattered pieces of thought, with any greater mass of it seemingly blunted by stops in seeing that some things were not worth having myself brought at risk to morph nor shape. My hands felt too small to dig my hands into that shifting and subsuming clay, especially with what I've been made a witness to.
But something's coming together. And the least that's good to be aware of, is that this right here's a place in which I can claim a great knowing over. Better watch myself not to get drunk off it.
Morning still stuck around. It was almost leaving, the red sphere rising full above the land in full view past the tall trees.
A few carts parked yet amidst their stops where the road behind them looked only undergrowth as tall as a man. Guess that's where the training ground was. And it was by there I've been waiting among other young teens looking to enlist. Too many of them looked no older than 18 among them. More pasty faces for the suck I guess.
I approached the enlistment officer of the garrison after a few moments stood in wait, giving a glance at the two men sleeping snoring with their jackets covered on their faces behind him, rocking on their chairs. A kind of laxness was about. I gave the officer the crumpled and dirtied registry paper of mine and stared off into space among the place at length, as he read and shuffled around to a book in his hands.
"Part of the reclamation attempt, were you?" He mouthed off, his eyes still set on his book. "Lucky ones in the litter this time round ? Revenge? Or should I guess more?"
"Might be. Might not." I shrugged. Better keep it skeptical, but no mystery. There's little to it anyways .
He looked up to me, an apprehensive look to his features.
"Now don't get smart. I get those sentiments, kid. I was at Shinganshina, you know."
"That's probably the fifth time today you spoke of it ."
A rough voice from the behind the officer spoke out half-grumbling, probably coming from one of the two men sleeping.
The officer huffed, "The notion's still ain't diminished either time it's said."
I rose a brow to that, and then asked conjuring a sardonic grin, "Shinganshina, huh ? What, first to get to the boats?"
A muffled chuckle rang from the one of the sleeping men, and an annoyed frown fell on the officer.
"Ha. Make your jokes well and full, kid. One misplaced name from here could get you into the scouts. Into the fire again, you know." He said, wiggling a finger a at me.
I leaned over and placed my arms palm first on the table where the officer sat by, and smiled at him.
"That's alright with me."
And he looked then and there perplexed for all that man could have been, but then he shifted his expression into a scoff.
"Too many novels, and books. Not good books." He dismissed with a slight shake of his head, before he stopped, and leaned over slow.
"You know it's not gonna be some grand journey the second time. Brute and savage force's seem the only outlier, son . Against the sweat and tears of countless well-read folks and go-getters. And what says them? And who of the other's been encased in walls?"
His face wore an uncomfortable glare among the features of his middle aged face, and I held with him a an contested silence, eyeing him back in return.
...
"Don't give him an ear. He can't do shit here, don't you worry. Where you go's up to the hard-assing assessments of the given instructors."
A younger looking man spoke in, grinning ear to ear, walking up to us from behind the officer-of one of the men asleep- breaking me off from the eyeing of the older man by the table.
"What'd you get from tryin to unnerve out the blue? There's better ways to go about it." He remarked, putting a light pat on the enlistment officer's shoulder. And he looked to me with a friendly enough face too.
"I got no more than a couple things to say. "The old officer scoffed as his eyes went to his papers, then finally stretching out a piece to me. "You've been there boy. Get if the shit's worth being bold for things you're not even aught one record to become some martyr."
I only let out a puff of air through my nostrils in reply, coupled with a narrow eyed stare.
"You'd think he'd do little to disparage seeing where he stands, huh?" The young MP said as I grabbed the paper off the old officer's hands.
"Guess so, but I'm not backing off either way." I replied to him.
"Gall." He chuckled. "Good to have it."
He then turned to the officer. " Hey, how about I take the next wagon carting off to the training grounds?"
"Whatever you want."
"Great." The MP smiled, and then gesturing to me. "Come on, I'll show you your cart, boy. We've been taking up the line too long."
"About damn time ." I remarked , breaking off from the table, allowing others behind me to move up, and then moving across the place in tail with the MP just a few dozen steps away standing over a row of two workhorse manned wagons.
Each of them had by them fellow trainees , all shuffling around with their luggage boarding each wagon, some already set forth on their journeys.
I went by the MP's wagon, getting a quick nod and a grin from the man before I boarded inside, glancing over at other kids my current age seated while I moved on and went to find my own seating in that tight place.
"Better hold steady. It's a few hours ride." The muffled sound of the MP declared.
There were some other people in conversation with each other, but I held back on any socializing and only shut my eyes slouching back on the wagon-sheets, trying to drown out the rocking and the proximities of chatter so close around me.
Hand to your heart. Stand straight. Look to the front. Stand in attention. Puff your chest out too. That's the gist. And that was the way how these men and women of the 104th training corps with myself stood shoulder to shoulder, with Shadis eyeing down everyone with that scrutinizing glare of his.
And so he marched by my row with said look on his wrinkled brows scanning every cadet, slowly inching closing in front of me.
Analyzing eyes fell upon me. And it was only a second. Then he passed me after. Well, guess I fit in. That's enough.
No, it was great even. Heh.
A pulling pain then tugged at my right ear. I winced hard and felt my head pulled along with that pinching grip.
"I can smell that grin from behind me a mile away! Spill yer guts, where the hell do you hail from, maggot?!!"
Aw, damn it.
"Shinganshina, sir!" I replied, teeth gritting. God, it felt like my ear was being torn off. And he was screaming as loud as a power drill.
"Well you stance about like a Mitras district wuss! You lyin for pity points, cretin?!!!"
"N-No, sir! An orphan of Shinganshina, born and raised, sir!"
"More like left and raised then." He remarked. Then he stared at me again.
I swear I saw a hint of confusion on that heavily crinkled face as he let go of my ear and eyed me once more.
"Well act parentless then, maggot. Not like some rich merchant's spawn. You've that air about."
"Uhhh... of course sir!" That was all I could give in reply. And he left with a low grunt immediately after, passing along to chew out the other remaining cadets for what the noon had been spent.
That air? Come on, I can't be broadcasting that I'm from the 21st century that much, am I? Hopefully it's not that noticeable. And of course I'm not better in espionage action than the three carefully selected and specially trained shifters over there, so you gotta give me a break.
But anyways, I went back to standing in attention, hearing Shadis' rage manifest at who I could guess, was aimed at Sasha. Would've want to see it play out in person before, but now I've got no enthusiasm for it. No scraps in my scrapbook.
The gruff and loud voice of Shadis ordering Sasha to run laps rang through the grounds , and as it went on in length, so did the order for all the cadets to be dismissed.
A synchronized heeding of yes sir's rang through and in succession all the cadets gave their salutes, and began scrambling around the premises, most of em congregating to the mess building all the while kicking up screens of reddish dust among that great clearing.
I bee-lined for the barracks, giving one look at Sasha already running laps under Shadis' watchful glare.
Got some things to drop off before joining the other cadets for dinner. As I went up the steps to the door to the long bunkhouse, the audible steps of boots and the squeaking of leather rang from behind me. It wouldn't been one bit strange here, if it weren't for the fact that I heard the wooden and metallic rattle of a firearm behind me.
"I damn well knew it. Damn well know it to be so."
It was familiar voice that said it out loud, sounding lazily and laidback.
I turned back to look at him. It was that young MP guy, grinning ear from ear as if that was the default feature on his five o'clock shadowed face. And slung on his back was a smooth-bored musket.
"Well errr...nice to see you." I greeted back." What are you still doing here? Got some business left or something?"
"Oh.."He shook his head, giving a laugh. "Your memory of me's somethin a little too recent, ain't it?"
"The hell are you talking about, man?"I asked, my brows narrowed feeling befuddled at the man.
"Wait." he held a finger up to me, then digging around in a satchel by his waist with the other hand. "Got something on my person that might jog it all up and clear the fog."
I didn't know what he had taken out, but whatever it was he had lobbed it to me as soon as his hand went out the bag. A small little black blur came speeding towards me, and before I knew it I'd brought up two hands palms stretched to catch it, cusping it between both hands.
Whatever it was, it was small. About maybe the size of a finger. And it felt like it had some etchings in it? It was somehow a familiar feeling.
Opening my hands, my eyes came upon a piece of something that looked so blackened and dry.
A Raisin?
Oh.
"Jesus H. Christ!" I screamed out before dropping it on the floorboards.
An ear. It was a fucking ear!
I heard the low chuckling of the MP guy, and my head slowly reared up to him. And then it dawned on me on who that man was, and his affiliations. I stood back and tensed.
"I know that look. An orphan's words holds no weight, even if your lips flap loud as it wants." He explained, still calm and smiling.
"This ain't no make-believe situation where I come to get some loose end tied. This ain't a storybook. Nothing special. Unless you yell, nothin fixed to happen. And it won't be so."
"And you're tight-lipped, aren't you?" He asked, wiggling a finger at me. "Well there's been no blabbering of what's-his-name getting bloodied as of the recent year, even if the whispers ain't worth shit."
He walked over to me, and with every step he took I went back one step until i felt my back hit against a wall. And a few steps away from me he stood and crouched by one knee, and cradled up that blackened ear, pocketing it away into his satchel once more. And I saw his smile widen even more than it did as he retrieved his little trophy.
"There's a bar in Trost. The Barrel's the name . I reckon you should come over when you start getting your service steed." he said.
"And if I don't?" I asked, still in a tense stance, not taking my eyes off the MP.
I saw him stop, then shook his head, looking straight at me.
"Then ya don't. What did I tell you, boy? Do you believe you are at threat or A threat somehow? Then this passes to memory, and you go along your predisposed path. And we go along our own way. Two paths, not a divergence in sight. Just like that."
He gestured a thumb over his shoulder to the mess building behind me, where the sounds of boisterous laughter rang with chatter." You're of meat kid, on route to be pulped. Meat. Not even a grunt."
"And who's Jesus H. Christ? What, a new faith already sprung up or something?"
He then turned around, giving a lazy wave over his shoulder before he left for the opened gate into the training grounds in the distance. And I held back a scowl as he disappeared past the entrance.
Thank fuck to me knowing the future. Why the hell would I even get involved with the guys that's gonna lose, get overthrown and get their shit kicked in a few years from now?
But even with these bold thoughts at the forefront, my mind briefly wandered. I couldn't help it.
And there were sounds ringing in the backseat of my brain of men and women groaning ragged on wagons, on a death march past the overheated plains of dry grass, men and women dying off in that path and just left behind. A murder with little memory of it remaining. And it went on and on in length. Stretching to events yet to be seen or happened.
And it felt like some little inklings were yet unknown to me.
Here's another chapter.
Until Next time.