They were split into a male and female grouping and the 4 young men entered their new home for their training period. They were met by a large group of young men already in their new uniforms who began talking about the new members of the group. It was surreal how hostile everything felt to Reynold as he walked to a free bed and then sorted his things into the chest and put on the new uniform. It was a simple uniform with white and brown details on a mostly black base. They stood out from the actual Dawn Legion but it was probably for good reason.
As the sun began setting, they were summoned from their quarters, men and women filed into straight lines drawn onto the hard, cold stone courtyard that existed between the two barracks. A group of 8 instructors stood in the middle, two in the middle and the 6 others pacing between the lines, "Welcome to the legion!" He started with a loud voice, "This is now your new family, you will be given enough to write one letter home and that will be what you have until you leave or are deployed!" Reynold tried his best to keep his eyes forward and was soon met by the glare of the female instructor standing in the middle, "You will be drilled! You will be trained! And you will be broken! And molded into the perfect legionnaires!" Silence reigned as the instructors stopped speaking or moving. It made everyone want to look around before being called back to attention by the female instructor's voice.
"Your first task will be that letter, follow one of your instructors to the main hall!" She instructed and the lines stayed together and followed one of the instructors. Reynold simply did as the others, walking at the same pace and with the same foot. It was a rather cold introduction to his new life. The group was made up of men and women of all ages it seemed, mostly young but there seemed to be a few middle aged men who had many cuts and scars or visible remnants of injuries. What their previous occupation had been, Reynold couldn't know but he assumed they were former soldiers of the king. He spotted their eyes dropping down frequently to the butts of the female recruits and the young man could tell they weren't going to be the greatest of people.
Paper was already waiting for them on the tables as they sat down. Reynold's writing was less than perfect and he knew it as he took the quill and looked at it before waiting to write as the instructor's moved to the front of the room and waited for everyone to get settled, "Write a letter to your family or anyone who would need to know about how you are doing and your whereabouts," He explained, "Let them know you are doing well and that you will contact them once your training is done, there is no need to add too much information," He reminded before he gestured for them to begin.
Reynold's hand moved slowly along his page as one of the older men next to him noticed and he scoffed, "Farmboy can't write well, aye?" Reynold turned his head and glared, "Oie, fuck off, you little brat, don't glare at me like that," A slap set the younger man off. First an insult, then a slap, the older man never saw it coming as Reynold dropped the quill and slammed his fist into his face. One blow was all he needed to send the man to the ground before the instructors realized what was going on.
"Stand down!" An instructor barked as the commotion led to Reynold standing over the stunned former soldier, "This is your first day and you are already fighting, huh? Take him outside," Reynold looked down at the fallen man and glared as he began regaining his senses. Two men escorted him out as the others maintained order in the room.
"Why on earth did you do that, young man?" The main instructor demanded to know, "Why would you act with such anger?"
"That man insulted my writing then slapped me," Reynold answered clearly, "He needed to be put in his place."
"That is our job."
"Then do it better," Reynold looked up at the instructor and a red face of rage met him. He didn't say a word but his silence spoke volumes.
"So you want to play like that, huh? You aren't sleeping tonight," He pointed at one of the instructors, "Drill him until you get tired and have someone replace you, until dawn then he will work the full day," The other man nodded as Reynold was gestured to stand up, "If you need to get your energy out, do it properly, boy," He nodded, "Even if I admit the strike was impressive, you are a legionnaire, not a thug."
Punishment wasn't something Reynold was unfamiliar with but this was something else. With a spear on his shoulder, he was made to pace up and down the courtyard, marching like a proper legionnaire and obeying orders. The life in a small town and as the only child to a former soldier, he had been drilled before and this was no different, "You have done this before, haven't you?" His instructor asked as he paced perfectly along the torch lit courtyard. The marching boots stopped and Reynold stood straight with his spear resting on his shoulder.
"Yes, sir!" He replied without turning his head, standing straight up as he had seen the other members of the Dawn Legion do when addressed by superiors, "My father was a soldier of the king, sir!"
"Good, now keep marching."
"Sir, yes, sir!" He continued to march as his comrades looked at him before their evening time would end. He had a long night ahead of him but at least he would already have been drilled on how to march as they expected him to. The farm boy was slowly, despite it being a punishment, becoming a proper legionnaire.