The rain hammered down, soaking the camp until the ground was a slick mess of mud. It didn't matter. No one complained. Captain Gideon's voice cut through the steady downpour as the Lost Legion pushed themselves through another grueling drill. What had once been a ragtag group of disheartened soldiers now moved with purpose, the camaraderie forged in the relentless training evident in every sharp movement.
Then came the sound of hooves—deep, steady, and unyielding—growing louder over the storm. Heads turned as a squad of knights rode into the camp, their armor gleaming wet under the relentless rain. At the front was Valon, a Royal Knight, his posture rigid, his gaze cold. He swung down from his horse, striding through the mud as if it dared not cling to him.
Captain Gideon, unmoved by the royal presence, folded his arms and raised a brow. Valon handed him a sealed letter, his lips pressed into a thin line.
Gideon ripped the seal, his eyes scanning the parchment. For a moment, the rain seemed to pause, as if waiting for his reaction. Valon, all stiff formality, spoke in a low voice that barely carried over the storm.
"The army of Varyn has invaded several of our villages. The Lost Legion is ordered to join the main force in five days. Direct command from the king."
Gideon's lips twisted into a smirk, his eyes lighting up with a spark of something dark, something eager. His voice rang out, booming over the camp like thunder. "You hear that, soldiers? The king's finally sending us to war!"
The camp froze. Conversations died. The usual banter evaporated into the cold air, replaced by something heavier, something taut with tension.
I stood with Lyra and Rylan under a nearby canopy, the three of us sheltered from the worst of the rain, but still close enough to feel the charge in the air. The captain's words sank in, the reality settling like a weight on my chest.
"It's happening," I muttered, my voice barely above a whisper, but Lyra and Rylan heard me.
Rylan shot me a side glance, his usual smirk replaced by something more serious. "So, how many promotions do you think we'll earn?" His attempt at humor was strained, but the edge of excitement in his voice was unmistakable.
"Depends on how many times you run ahead like an idiot," I shot back, a crooked grin forming despite the tension.
"Please, you two," Lyra cut in, her tone dry but her eyes sharp with determination. "Save the banter for when we're not about to be neck-deep in enemy territory."
Rylan shrugged, wiping rain from his forehead. "What, you think I won't look heroic saving both of your hides?"
Lyra raised an eyebrow but said nothing, though the corner of her mouth twitched. There was no fear in her eyes—only resolve.
I took a breath, trying to steady the flood of thoughts. "We're going to survive this," I said, more to myself than to them. "And we're not going to just survive—we're going to stand out."
"Damn right," Rylan muttered, cracking his knuckles. "You lead, I'll hit anything that moves."
"And I'll make sure neither of you gets killed doing something stupid," Lyra added, rolling her eyes but with a small smile on her lips.
As we stood there, the rain still pouring, something shifted in the camp. The drills continued, but now every movement carried more weight. Soldiers were whispering to one another, checking their gear, tightening their armor. There was no more room for banter or jokes—only preparation.
Under the dim, stormy sky, Captain Gideon stood tall, watching the camp come to life. His smirk hadn't faded, and as he turned back to Valon, there was a wicked glint in his eyes.
"Finally," he muttered under his breath, though the storm all but swallowed his words. "This is going to be fun."
Captain Gideon stood tall, the rain slicking his hair back as he faced the gathered soldiers. The camp had grown quiet, everyone hanging on the edge of the captain's words, sensing the gravity of the moment. His voice, powerful and unyielding, boomed across the camp like a war drum.
"You hear that, lads and girls? We are going to war!" He let the words hang, the weight of them settling into the bones of every soldier. "So you better not disappoint me! The Lost Legion will be joining the main army in five days, but we'll move out tomorrow. The journey will take three days, so check your gear, get yourselves ready, and be prepared to move out by then."
His eyes, sharp and calculating, swept over the legion, the rain doing nothing to dampen the fire in his gaze. "And Lucan," he added, his voice cutting through the storm like a blade, "come to my tent , I have something too discuss with you."
As the rain continued to drum against the tents, I made my way to Captain Gideon's quarters, the weight of his summons pressing on me. The flickering light from inside cast long shadows as I stepped through the entrance. Gideon stood by a map, his back to me, the atmosphere thick with unspoken words.
He pivoted on his heel, his piercing gaze boring into mine. His words sent a chill down my spine. "Lucan," he said, his voice betraying nothing. "I've been observing you." His dark irises narrowed, assessing me with the focused intensity of a seasoned warrior. "Your unwavering commitment and remarkable abilities have surpassed my expectations."I felt my pulse quicken, unsure where this was leading, but then he dropped the hammer. "I'm giving you command. You'll lead a force of a hundred men—Lyra and Rylan included."
For a moment, I was at a loss. Command? Me? The weight of the promotion hit me like a blow, but there was no time to process it. Gideon's expression was stern, his words heavy with expectation. "Don't disappoint me, Lucan. Make me regret this, and you'll wish the enemy got to you first."
A grin crept onto my face, the pride swelling in my chest despite the storm of emotions raging inside. "Don't worry, Cap," I replied, my voice steady, confident. "I've got this."
Gideon studied me for a moment longer, then nodded, a ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "We'll see," he said quietly, turning back to the map. "Now get out of here and get your men ready. War doesn't wait."