I wake up in a den of bodies, cooped up in a large tattered tent. It smells like sweat dirt and infection, miraculously I haven't gotten sick yet. I walk down the rows and note a few others waked before me, the usuals I've come to find out. If my biological clock is right now or if the length of time in this world is even the same, it should be 5 in the morning.
It's the only part of my routine I get to keep.
Interestingly enough, this world does have sinks and faucets. Just that you need to pump them up to pour anything after a minute with a crank, some don't work. I reach out for a toothbrush out of impulse to grasp at nothing, now I have a tub of dust I can only assume is fluoride.
In here, I have no toothbrush so I need to dig my fingers in and scrape the dust in my mouth. I learned to dig in the corners though, I know where my hands have been. The others... I found out where some have been. We rarely shower, we only get wet towels to wipe the grime off with and we're good-to-go. I must seem like a germaphobe because I am now for good reason.
Breakfast is on lunch times and lunch is on dinner time. I've lost weight but gained muscle too, we train almost everyday for the 4 weeks I've spent here – it's hell. I'm hungry all the time.
What do I expect after getting forcefully enlisted into the army I don't want to fight for.
I get dressed after zealously scrubing myself as two of my unit walk in, we know each other enough to nod but not enough to talk. I I'm done dressing and reminded that my cloths need washing too, but this is something I deal with every day.
Prehaps I'd be bullied if I didn't arrive in the same wagon as the two knights. All eyes were on me, now disappointed in their investment in me they still keep me at arm's length.
We run laps around the compound then the woods and back. I still struggle to keep up. After that all our units are done we form a rowed block of each unit at the instructors cabins outside their fences within the camp. The grass is absurdly green and lush. We wait here sometimes hours, sometimes minute, sometimes we're early and we get punished for it as bad as when we're late.
As we wait, some mumble folk songs, some play games with each other. I think about earth, try to refresh my memory and run ideas back and forth. Doing this requires a bit of disassociation so I hardly notice when a fight breaks out until someone bumps me.
"Don't touch me! Don't touch me!" A girl I recognise repeats over and over, glaring daggers down the obvious bastards of the group. He plays dumb wondering what she's talking about before a guy in the unit tries to breaks it off. The situation almost de-escalates before something must have been said or done because she lunged at him. Now they're scrambling on the patchy dirt, maybe he would have won if they were standing –she's just a better grappler in leagues.
Coiled around his arms in a mean looking crucifix, his lumberjack arms give in and bend back to huge thighs and thick shoulders. He groans, as joins pop like bubble wrap under a roller.
"Aye! Bloody mare, what are you idiots doing!?" A voice booms and we snap back in place and salute revealing the the girl let go and roll to her feet to salute with a bloody nose. The instructor is veteran, with the feathers tattooed on his arms for how many battles he's been in. He's more than happy to tell up that he has been in 32 so far, impressive. I won't even last one.
"And what is this nonsense! You fight in my camp without my permission?!" He screams at both of them. "I better hear an explanation!?"
The girl stands there, still breathing hard, hands clenched at her sides, her face like stone despite the blood trickling down. She's staring at him, at the guy she just put on his back, who's still cradling his arm and trying to look anywhere but her direction. No one moves, no one speaks until he finally mutters, "Just a misunderstanding, sir." His voice is half-resentful, half-scared, like he knows he messed up but isn't about to admit it.
The instructor isn't buying it. "A misunderstanding?" he echoes, voice dripping with contempt. "Misunderstandings don't look like broken limbs. I want the truth."
The girl's eyes don't leave the ground, but her jaw tightens. "He put his hands on me, sir"
The murmur that runs through the line of recruits dies the second the instructor looks our way, and he swings his glare back to the guy. "Did you?"
He looks around like he's hoping for a way out, then nods, muttering, "Yes, sir, but it wasn't—I didn't mean anything by it—"
"I don't care what you meant." The instructor's voice cuts him off. "Touch anyone without permission again, and you'll spend a month in latrine duty, got it?"
"Yes, sir," he mutters, shoulders slumping.
The instructor turns to the girl, her expression still hard, unreadable. "And you," he barks. "Next time, find a better way to handle it. You think this is a free-for-all brawling ground? You're soldiers. Act like it."
She snaps to attention, barely nodding.
"Both of you, double laps. Now." His voice drops to a growl, but they get the message, trudging off without a word, the rest of us parting to let them through.
The instructor's gaze sweeps over the rest of us, daring someone else to make a move, then gestures toward the compound. "Move it, you lot! You've wasted enough time!"
We snap into line, moving to the next set of drills, we train with dangerous blunt wood swords. I lose almost every time and I suffer more bruises from it.
Pain is your greatest teacher, we master suffering so others will not.
I personally would like to be on the benefiting end of that motto. We chant it the mess hall over our meals before we sit down, others stay standing to pray. I wonder if my God is even here.
I look around my small empty table, then to my meal. A bowl of boiled chicken meat mixed in thick porridge and potatos– the potatoes are the most tasteful of the meal.
I'm surprised when someone fills the seat across from me, the girl. Black stuffed hair into a bun, tanned skin and her mean old eyes look at me. "Hey, can me and him sit here." She says less than a question before adding, "Thanks." And waves a guy over.
Tall, skinny and stuffed with lean muscle, he has his sleeves rolled up. His veins have nowhere to go but the surface of his skin like arteries and losing fat made an Olympic corpse out of him. He brings his tray around wordless and devours the bowl as if it tastes good, the girl rolls her eyesfrom him to me.
"Kael by the way." She she introduces herself playing with her food.
"Ang..." I thing for a moment wondering if I should change my name but shake it off, "Angus."
"I know. Everyone thought you were a nobel enlisting." She takes a hesitant bit and swollows, sighing. "Some... still do."
"Far from it." I look down awkwardly wording if I should say more, thankfully she asks something else. "You'renot from here are you?"
I eye her and him, "Not exactly local, no." She nods pretending to be proud of herself, "It's the hair that gave it away– I've never seen ginger hair before." I sigh, "I don't exactly see black eyes around here before. Where are you from?"
"South."
"South?"
"Far south."
"Uh-huh. Very specific." I mummurs,
She pushes her dish aside and leans over grinning, "Okay, where you're from green eyed and redhead." She proves her point when I don't answer, "Exactly... let's talk about something else now. Like why you joined."
I consider her question as I chew, "I was forced. I don't even know why. You?"
She chuckles at that, "Mhm. We're here because we're useless at everywhere else. Prison or the army. Only place with free food and free shelter."
I almost chuckle to myself when I see the guy slowly reach for a handful of her food, "Fair. "We"? You two siblings?" Before he could dig his fingers in, she grabbed his wrist pulling it away and looked at him, "Yeah, we're twins actually."
"I'm the older one though." He says pulling his hand back. "We've talked about this Festis, okay. I'm mature, I'm the older one."
I watch the two bicker back and forth no doubt siblings, until we hear a guy from the other unit rush into the tent. "Duel! Duel!" He shouts and everyone rushes out.
--
I've never seen the frog helmet guy's face, it's not like he wears his armour everyday but they always hear something. I see the two knights bare in tight fìtting cloths, from bottom to top the frog Knight and the bird knight are getting armoured up in the dueling pit. Their heads are covered over with chainmail so they look more like metal head executioners.
That always stay on.
The frog Knight is the definition of a tank, thick and hug everywhere he towers 2 heads over me, and 1 over Bird knight. The bird knight is built like an athletic swimmer on steroids, lean and mean.
When they are armoured, the terrifying frog Knight chose a big sword as almost as long as he is tall. The bird knight chose a shield round and two swords. He straps the extra to his side.
There was no bell, a ring or a call to begin.
There was silence, and they inched close and close to each other. The bird knight had his shield out forward marching and the frog Knight stayed low with a sword on a shoulder, shuffling his feat across the sand.
They paused, and the bird knight was the first to move. He feints an attack, once, twice, three time. The frog knight only flinches at the attempt.
Stillness returns.
They look like they're waiting for something. Then a flurry of violence in shape of blurs of metal against metal erupts. Armour thunder and blade screeched and shield rumble.
Dust kick up and they break off from each other's range.
The frog Knight chokes his blade with a gauntlet hand now. He doesn't move, instead he plants his feet, braces and waits for the bird knight. He stalks around him curiously, stabbing and prodding from behind his shield. There's no clear opening.
He lunges in and blocks the first strike coming in a helicopter swing, but not the second, the frog knight's sword plunged into the bird knight's throat covered in chainmail. The blade bent under the force.
The bird knight staggered back alive and probably unharmed, but he took that personally and harrassed the knight. His worn shield let him counter the frog Knight chirping away at his armour, but he's stoic as ever and traded in the blows and spearing the other puncturing it but never going deeper.
He almost hammers him with the gaurd of his sword but the bird knight step back, lunged in and bashed him with his shield.
It splinters apart before it breaks the frog knight's stance and he wobbled back – the bird knight is not done. He Sparta kicks him off balance then tackles him to the ground.
He tries to climb up him but a thick metal boot launches him in the air and he loses his sword. He lands gracefully unsheathing the second blade and the knight recovers, and considers his oddly bent sword.
They are both panting.
"Draw, Goodman?" The bird knight huffs.
"Why can't I beat you..." The frog Knight drawls, using his sword like a cane.
The bird knight laugh and turns to the crowd, "Well lads did you enjoy the show?" The quiet crowd of soldiers cheer and applause.
"Good. I want you to be better than me, better than him – better Ortorus and you better be stronger than Tobu. Or else we ought reconsider our motto." He waits for the laughs to die down, "This Kingdom suffered enough under Westerian swine, you've heard what they do when they have their way! Now you lot are gonna be deployed in 2 weeks to the left wing in the North and liberate it!" He jabs his metal finger at every one of us.
"Do we get armour like yours?" One asks.
"Of course not rookie, VIPs only." Even I laugh at this and the mood lightens, "Your job is to kill other bronzies. If you see an enemy VIPs, run. You'll need 30 to put one down, run to you mission to kill other bronzies." He scans through the nods, "Now train hard, train to be better. Trust me, suffering teaches you a lot."
The speech doesn't reach me but it has definitely left a spark in other, it ignites into a cacophony of words and we disperse. "Good show. Public duels are more entertaining than I thought."
I consider the voice and recognise the face of Kael's twin brother walks beside me. "Until there's blood and gore everywhere and gargled screams."
"I'd laugh and chear even more." He sees the look I give him, "Just a bad joke." He adds "You're not really a people person." I note, and he shrugs, "I am one of those who keeps to myself, yeah. You know who does all the talking." He looks past me and sighs, "Speak of the devil."
'Speak of the devil?'
I wanted to ask for his name but his attention is on Kael as they talk and forget all about me. I watch awkwardly wondering to leave, stay or try to bud in their conversation.
They don't know what it's like to be completely alone do they. To be in an unfamiliar world in an unfamiliar people – to be absolutely lost and absolutely alone.
"Why are you looking to me like that?" She said with a smile.
I come back from my thoughts, shooting her a look of confusion, "Like what?"
"Like that." She said again, noding to my face.
I look at her and slowly look up to the sky and smile, "I get it now." I say to myself and look between her and her brother, "I'm just jealous."
"Of what?" She asked raising an eyebrow, "Of you two, being siblings. I don't have any, Just me. I wish I had someone who's always by my side."
"Why?" She asks again confused.
"Wouldn't you? Do you think you'd be better off without your brother. I don't because I see how you look out for each other. I look out for myself. Can you imagine how lonely that actually is. I barely have friends to miss, atleast if I had a sibling I'd know I'm stuck with them, and their stuck with me but that's okay. Because we care about each other in a way no one in the world understands... because I don't, never will." Those words never leave my mouth though.
Instead I say, "It would be nice to have a friend..."
She opened her mouth wanting to say something to comfort me, her mouth closed. We sit there letting the moment stretch uncomfortably until she finally came up what to say next.
"I'm sure there's someone out the for you." She forces a smile.
"Like who?" Is what I wanted to say but I settled with smiling back to her. Pretending as if I don't see her pity. What does she think of me now?
A Lonely Loser.
I hate how pathetic I am. I leave them to rush for the barracks. Suddenly going to fight and die in someone's war doesn't sound so bad.
I walk down the beaten path gpancing at the the soldiers of my unit that talk amongst each other. They are all around my age, we share a room, baths, sweat together, run together but they know we are different. I do too.
"Oi, boy." I stop and turn to the bird knight he weathers his chainmail drape over his head and in clothed.
I almost salute like I'm on earth and fix it to that of this world. He recieves it with a wave and continues, "We have special plans for you, from now on you're going to be working on mage spells. It took a while to bring in a teacher but i hope you take in the knowledge like a sponge for the 2 weeks."
I nod deep smiling to myself, this is something I know and something I can improve on. See the results with my own eyes.
"I look forward to it sir."