Bell rings, I shake my head in surprise. It seems I fell asleep at some point, and haven't even noticed when. I jump up from my bed and check the corridor outside; it's relatively quiet. Luckily, it seems I haven't overslept. I sigh in relief and sit back down, grabbing ahold of my mask, to make sure I do not forget.
Moment later, bell rings again, I shoot out of my room and head for the assembly room, taking wide steps, almost running, but not quite. This time instead of blending in with the crowd, I take the front row. I don't have to wait long before the rest floods in and the Lieutenant briefs us on today's schedule.
After today's routine is done and dealt with, the Lieutenant stands still with his signature noblesque posture, clearly waiting for me to do something. I walk up the steps and hand him my mask. He looks it over carefully, inspects the horns, the eyes, rotates it in his hands a few times, seemingly aimlessly.
"Surprising. You still have some time..." He says, "...And this is?"
"A mountain goat, sir." I try to replicate his pose as I answer, I don't know what to expect. Have I been too bold with the design? He glances briefly at me up from the mask, then continues looking it over.
"It's... unique. If nothing else." He says as he hands it back to me. If I didn't know his manner of speech, I'd be convinced he's disappointed, but if he is, I have no way of telling. "But 'mountain goat' is a mouthful. From now on you'll be recruit Goat." He declares.
"Yes sir." I nod and salute, "Go get it strapped at Quartermaster Snake, then head to training as soon as able, Recruit."
I repeat myself, salute, and beeline for the Quartermaster. I would be lying if I said I'm not feeling a little excited. After all, this has to be one of the most unique masks in the whole redoubt. After a short walk, I arrive at the Quartermaster's office, where I find a snake sleeping on his desk.
Unsure what to do, I decide I don't really have time to waste. I try calling him out to no avail, so I decide to be more aggressive. I pat him on the shoulder and shake him slightly. He stirs a little, and a cacophony of displeased groans and grunts begins.
The Quartermaster looks at me for a moment, still slouched over the desk and hisses, "What?"
"Lieutenant Wolf ordered me to get my mask strapped." I say as I place it on his desk with a dull thunk. "Ah..." he groans out, sighs, then takes my mask as he gets up, disappearing behind crates, shelves and racks. A few moments later, I hear loud banging, as if someone was hammering something on a workbench cluttered with tools, each making their own distinct sound.
He returns from his forest of clutter, and places the rudimentarily-strapped mask back on the desk. "There you go, now let me sleep." He says, as he once again slumps over the desk, his arms acting as a pillow.
The 'strap' so to say, is simply a cord running through holes punched in edges of the mask and a piece of cloth wrapped around it, so it doesn't dig into the head as much when tightened, knots at the holes keep the cord from slipping out, too. Despite its makeshift appearance, it seems fairly well thought out, the cord is tangled in such a way, one can quickly tighten or loosen the mask as he sees fit.
I put the mask on, tighten it so it can't slip off easily, and head for training. This week was truly interesting, I got to prank Owl, acting like we don't know each other, and we received special equipment training from Lieutenant Cat. Most of this stuff, we won't even see until we advance through the ranks - certainly they won't hand fresh recruits precision tools like hand crossbows; hand crossbows are reserved for Novices and up. Despite the demonstration of the dazzler being outright painful and uncomfortable, it instantly explained to the whole room of recruits without a single word, why they are so useful - and why generally only Sergeants and up can requisition them.
The entire room, having Lieutenant Cat surrounded and watching him closely demonstrate each tool, didn't have the slightest clue what was coming next. He pulled out the dazzler, allowing us to take a short glance at it, lit its self-contained fuse and waited a moment, then threw it in the air. Like idiots, me included, we all looked straight at it, as he turned away and covered his ears.
For the next ten to thirty minutes, I only remember pain in my eyes, ears, as well as muffled grunts and groans of pain coming from everyone but the Lieutenant, as my ears were ringing terribly. I thought a training mishap happened and we were going to die. As I couldn't open my eyes from the pain, something slammed into me, only later when I could open my eyes up a little bit did I realize; nothing slammed into me, I fell over and didn't even realize it, I didn't even feel like I lost balance.
Lieutenant Cat was simply quietly staring at us writhe on the floor, when we managed to collect ourselves, he trained us how to use it, skipping the obvious: explaining its use cases. It's extremely simple for how useful it is - a chemical reaction within, ignited by a sparking mechanism inside creates a brief but incredibly bright light, and gunpowder-like explosion sounds out, yet the dazzler's best use is not killing, but taking prisoners - or escape.
Other special tools were interesting, but they were just overshadowed by the dazzler. A mere grappling hook, throwing knives, precision musket and so on seem so simple in comparison.
The rest of the week was more 'social' training, as well as some tactical training; climbing, scouting, ciphers and decryption, operational procedures - so on. I once again managed to beat Owl at something: he can barely climb, though Lieutenant Cat did say only one member of a team needs to be good at climbing most of the time...
But I still can't beat Owl in hand to hand or dagger-fighting. Oh well. As the end of the week draws near, I return to Lieutenant Wolf with my mask, as he ordered me to the other day, he takes it, then returns it to me the next day. What was the point of this? I wonder, as training continues.
I seem to have fallen into the daily routine completely, I don't even notice days passing anymore. Training, training, meal, bell, free time - usually more training, sleep, bell, repeat.
About a week of this later, as I'm about to leave for training after morning assembly, Lieutenant Wolf stops me. He tells me give him my mask. I'm confused, but comply. In return, he hands me a metal mask.
I take a moment to look at it. I knew this is coming, but it is kind of astounding. A mean-looking goat, with sharp, back-swept horns is facing me. I'm certainly not afraid of animals, goats least of all; that one bastard of a goat in the mountains was just an individual incident of course, but the mask's shape as well as the metal's matte, almost black color, does imbue it with a menacing aura.
Most notably, the mask looks exactly the same as I carved it - almost. It indeed didn't change, however, the horns are a lot more detailed than I carved them. It's as if whoever made this understood what I was trying to make, and simply refined it, without altering its spirit. I nod in the appreciation of the craftsman, and strap it to my head. It even comes with a real, proper leather strap too!
"That is it for now, recruit. Wear your face well." He says as he walks off to attend to his administerial business somewhere in the redoubt's guts. "Yes sir." I nod, and salute perfectly. I've come a pretty long way, being thrown around by Sergeant Boar to being indistinguishable from others. Some would loathe this, but it only reinforces my sense of belonging.
But I forgot to ask him what the metal door out there, in one of the hallways leads to. It's odd. All the doors are wooden, except this one - all metal. I've only recently noticed it, too, possibly because I'm moving around the redoubt a lot more than when I arrived here. I have half a mind to check it out, but, no snooping... too bad. Doesn't matter either way, I've been only pleasantly surprised so far.
As weeks pass, so do months. As I stopped noticing days passing, and weeks fade, too. We just keep doing the same, different things, over and over again. Honing and sharpening our skills; and I still can't beat Owl. Every time I come close, he comes up with something new, as if he had an endless supply of aces up his sleeve, it's frustrating.
But, at least I can take it out on some new faces, all to teach them something new of course, what's a little throw on a hard floor between comrades? The culture and rules of this place are largely unwritten, and instead passed down orally. Every now and then, some completely green, faceless recruit asks me something - I seem to be the most popular go-to for asking questions, in fact. Is it my face?
I am by no means a veteran of this place, neither is Owl, but months of strenuous training accumulates, much like fatigue does. Luckily, you can sleep fatigue off - experience remains. Even months become blurry, as I only notice the turning of seasons.
As time goes on, Owl and I notice - we and mere handful of others are the only ones remaining; everyone else who joined ahead of us already completed the final exam and advanced to a Novice, and was promptly transfered out of the redoubt to serve the Empire elsewhere.
The exam... a trickle of knowledge passed down to us from our seniors, it's apparently not unlike everything we already did. It happens on the topside, takes form of an obstacle course, is prepared a day ahead of time, from what I remember - lockpicking test, which involves having to open a door as fast as possible; archery test, which is simply hitting a few targets accurately; then a pretty conventional obstacle course, just some basic climbing and jumping.
As expected, the difficult part is the last one. One of the Novices dresses up in plate armor and chainmail, head to toe, and carries a halberd, the blade replaced by wood - much like our dagger training. To pass, a recruit has to stab the Novice in a lethal spot. That being; armpit, neck, hip or thighs. For Novice's sake, the groin and eye stabs are obviously forbidden...
The Novice will do his best to stab or slash the recruit - if hit, he has to re-do the whole course from the start. However, the last part sounds the most difficult.
Hand to hand combat against your fellow recruits, the winner passes the exam. Multiple recruits go through the course at same time, and the first one to the finish simply gets to rest as long as the second recruit isn't there. From there on, one has to down the other. Luckily, the defeated one can re-do the course. This comes with a caveat.
Those who fail the exam can only repeat as many times as other recruits are willing to give them a chance. In other words, if you can't beat any of the other recruits, you will not pass. The thought of not being able to beat Owl in the exam chases sleep off my eyelids on some nights.
After all, he still beats me every time. Wiping the floor with green recruits is simply not the same - I have to beat Owl at least once. My honor demands it.
Just as a new batch of fresh recruits arrives, Lieutenant Wolf informs us, the old dogs, that our exam will be held soon. He didn't specify an exact time, just that we should prepare. This comes as a slight shock; with Owl undefeated, am I really ready for this?
The slow pace of counting each individual day - in almost nostalgic fit, I wish for those times to return, because multiple days pass and no matter how many times I challenge Owl, I still can't do it. How is this bastard this good?
Inevitably, time runs out. "For those of you who have been here for the better part of the year, you know who you are, your exam will be held tomorrow, topside, first thing in the morning." Lieutenant Wolf declares. I scream internally as I glance at Owl, who seems to not have a care in the world, only making me scream even harder. "As for the rest of you, dismissed. Your schedule is unchanged."
Is that it? Will Owl just remain undefeated? Will I really let someone like Owl, who can barely lockpick, barely shoot a bow, barely climb completely wipe the floor with me tomorrow? In complete and utter desperation, I do the unthinkable.
"I see. Well, it's no surprise to me. He is one of the best recruits I've taught in recent times." Sergeant Boar says in a surprisingly calm voice, after I explained the situation to him. "I can try, but I don't think there's anything left for me to teach you. Unless you haven't been paying attention to my lessons, recruit?" He says, with a slightly elevated voice.
"I have been paying attention, Sergeant. Surely there's something you can teach me that'll help me beat him?" I try to plead with Sergeant Boar. The score between Owl and me can't end at zero to I-lost-count.
He hmms, nods to himself, thinks, inhales, and grunt-sighs nasally, almost like a real pig oinking. "Well, there is one thing that may work. But don't count on it. And it absolutely is necessary you apply everything else you learned from me for this to work, understood?"
I nod, mutiple times. Sergeant Boar teaches me the secret technique, and I throw myself around on the bed unable to sleep, thinking about tomorrow. Eventually however, I managed to calm down and get some rest.