Conscripted, p.21
Conscripted, page 21
That fleeting exchange was one of the moments that stuck with me throughout my time on Camaria. It affected me deeply, down to the very core of my being.
Even with all the loss and pain and hopelessness that defined this world, there were still good people. Ones that looked upon one another in kindness or brotherhood.
Sure, there was darkness here, loads in fact. People had given up, and that usually turns them into assholes, which is understandable given what I had learned of Camaria’s history so far.
But what I saw in that moment reminded me of the true power of the human spirit to battle the darkness.
It wasn’t an abstract concept of doing unto others and being this mythical good person. Nor about some nuanced theoretical idea, or even a political figure.
It wasn’t about doing good by making sure you recycled an aluminum can, or donated a dollar to some charity you forget the name of right after you clicked confirm on your favorite payment app.
It was about the brothers and sisters who shared your pain and fought alongside you through thick and thin. Those who faced the same darkness and lived with the same fear. People who pissed their pants right alongside you as you ran straight into fire and death together. Whether any of you wanted to be there or not didn’t matter, you knew that all you were ever going to have was each other.
It occurred to me that humans didn’t ever actually fight for concepts, not really. It wasn't about flags, ideals, or causes. Those were just the surface-level sources of motivation people used to get you to join the fight.
Once the fight starts, however, those things never last long. And yet, people keep fighting. They fight for one reason and one reason alone.
You fight for other people. The ones you know by name and face. The ones that matter to us the most when the darkness comes to our doorstep. The ones who fight by your side, to the bitter end.
I saw that in the Bloodknights across the room as they each laughed, joked, and smiled.
It also occurred to me that I very much wanted something like that in my life. My dream of being some rich banker or business guy was losing its shine more and more by the minute. Even if I had a chance to go back home, I wasn’t sure that I could continue following that goal after seeing all that I had seen in the past day or so.
It felt like none of that shit mattered anymore. It seemed petty and beneath me now, especially when there were so many other, far more worthwhile things I could be doing.
I finished my meal quietly, deep in contemplation as I listened to the joyous Bloodknights eat and talk the night away.
Chapter twenty-three
“Do you so swear?” a man in a gray tunic and pants wearing one of the Bloodknights’ signature red medallions asked me after reading out the same oath Demos had given me at the Aloham palace.
“I do,” I said succinctly. Part of me hated the idea of reenlisting when I had just gotten out of my last enlistment. But, it’s not like I had much choice for the time being.
“Can you read and write your letters?” he asked in a commanding tone, and I resisted rolling my eyes. “If so, spell your name and sign your mark right here.”
After he had finished pointing to the spot he was referring to, he thrust the leather scroll into my hands, which had written on it the oath I had previously agreed to… which was, once again, the same oath I had taken with Demos earlier in that day.
Well, at least the US military isn’t the only entity with an overabundance of redundancy and paperwork to fill out.
Setting the scroll down on a nearby table, I chuckled at my internal joke as I reached out a hand to accept the small quill the man was holding out to me.
I examined the writing instrument curiously. Expecting a feather plucked straight from some hapless chicken, but I was surprised to find that it had some kind of intricate design to it.
It wasn’t quite a ballpoint pen, but it had a shaped end with a gouge in the hard surface at the base of the feather.
Is the hard surface the quill part? Gah, I can’t remember, I’m sure it has a scientific name like hypotenuse or something, but I don’t know.
Regardless of its proper name, the hard part of the feather had a divot cut into it, a quarter inch from the end, that looked like it could hold some ink if you dipped it into the well. Someone had made a precise cut on the surface, leading to the tip where the ink would presumably flow smoothly when held correctly.
After I took the quill from him, the man turned and handed a similar leather scroll, inkpot, and quill to Ria.
I had never used one of these before, so I tried to be as careful as I could as I gently dipped it into the inkwell and slowly wrote out my name in easy-to-read block letters. Then, I signed my scribble of a signature next to it, and set the quill down with a satisfied huff.
“Done,” I said as I handed the scroll over, proud I didn’t wind up getting ink all over the place. Looking down at my handiwork, his expression instantly fell as his eyes widened under his furrowed brows.
“Is this some kind of joke?” the man asked pointedly when he finally steeled his features and looked back up at me.
“Huh?” I asked, genuinely confused. “What do you mean?”
“You ruined a perfectly good leather scroll. Do you realize how much these cost to make? Not to mention the fact that one of us has to copy the oath by hand on each one?! The leather could have been better used as armor for the militia rather than… than this children's drawing. Gah, if you had no ability with common form... just… ugh, just make your mark and don’t… do whatever that was to it.”
I whipped my head toward the scroll incredulously, only to find that I had written my name with absolute clarity.
Shit! It must be the translation thing. I guess it doesn’t work the other way around. Fuck me!
“Sorry,” I said, genuinely apologetic as Jarrold glared daggers at me from nearby. I didn’t miss the small, quiet laugh Ria hid behind her palm as she signed her own scroll.
The man tossed the leather scroll to the side with a growl and pulled out another from a nearby shelf. He then barked, “Name?”
“Cal Savage,” I groaned, covering my face with my hands to hide my embarrassment, despite the fact that the situation wasn’t entirely my fault. But really, how would it sound if I started blaming some nameless god, or whatever it was that brought me here, for my mistake?
Hell, I still didn’t have any clue about who or what brought me here.
“Put your mark here,” he handed over the scroll stiffly and pointed next to the symbols he had written for me, which magically morphed into my name written in legible blocky English letters.
Just like what I wrote only a minute ago.
I signed it with my normal signature, punctuating the flourish of my quill with a deep, heavy sigh.
He accepted it this time.
Man, this translation thing is great, but it really has its limitations. How the hell will I ever learn how to write in this language if I can’t even see it? They never covered this stuff in the anime or the books I read.
I chalked it up as a fairly minor problem in the grand scheme of things, resigning myself to the cruel reality of playing the illiterate idiot for the time being as we moved on.
Next, Ria and I received a new issue of clothing. It was nothing fancy, at least compared to what I was used to back home. But, compared to the itchy prison garb that had been driving me insane all day, it seemed like a custom-made suit made of fine silk. We didn't change there, but I did take the opportunity to put on the pair of leather boots I was given. While they resembled something pieced together and brought to life by Dr. Frankenstein, they were surprisingly comfortable.
I took a deep, reassuring breath as I looked down at the neatly folded clothing in my arms. As soon as I got out of this crap prison outfit, I would almost feel human again.
“These are the cells designated for the trainees,” Jarrold said as we took a right into another long hallway filled with doors spaced evenly on each side.
“There are currently twelve trainees total, including you,” he explained. Curious, I counted fifteen single-wide cell doors down each side of the hallway, then one big French door set at the end. “There were more students before, but half ran away with the traitor during the Exodus. Those clay tablets you see to the right of the doors are for you to put your names on when you choose a cell…” pausing for a beat, he turned to me with an amused smirk as he jerked a thumb behind him toward the hall of doors. “Did you need help with it, Cal? I am sure Ria here can do it for you.”
Ria actually laughed under her shield of dark hair as my face grew red, but I knew he was only joking with me. I was more surprised to see some genuine life from the girl after she had pretended to be my shadow for most of the day.
“These first two on the right are free,” Jarrold said as he pointed toward the first two doors on the right. “I recommend using these. Oh, and remember, there are no door locks to your cells, and you can pretty much always expect the potential for harassment in some form or fashion by the instructor on duty. At least, when you are not on a pass outside the gate.”
“There is a shared bathhouse for everyone down by The Hall that you can use after class to wash up, but keep in mind that they are closed at mid-day on Enion and all day on Novaire. To give the servants some time off and to train.” I quickly translated the foreign terms to the seventh and eighth days of the week in my head. “Just follow everyone else after the supper meal and you’ll find them. For now, there is a single water closet and two indoor privies at the end of the hall that you can use to wash up and take care of personal needs.”
He pointed down toward the door at the end of the hallway.
So, the sinks and toilets are down at the end. Got it.
“Those are shared by all the trainees, by the way. The privies do at least have a locking mechanism for some privacy while you relieve yourselves,” he finished.
I nodded. “Thank you for everything, from both of us.”
I also didn’t miss the subtle warning he had slipped in about the instructors. From what I could tell, he pretty much meant don’t plan on sleeping in tomorrow morning… or ever. Luckily, this wasn’t my first rodeo with basic training.
He looked at me with an unreadable expression for a beat, then gave the two of us a small nod as he wished us goodnight and strode away, leaving Ria and I standing alone in front of the two small doors.
“Are you okay?” I asked her now that we had a moment.
Head-bob.
I smiled, then gently patted her on the head. “If you need anything, come get me. I promise to do all I can to look out for you. I’m going to check out my new digs.”
She hiccupped, a little squeak coming out of her mouth at the same time. Then she did something I considered miraculous.
She parted her hair with a deft hand, exposing her beautiful features to me out of the blue; and I was momentarily dumbfounded by them.
She clearly wanted to say something. I watched as her eyes flitted back and forth from the ground to my face, her lashes fluttering nervously as she bit her lip.
Hell, I wanted to say something, but I had lost my nerve, and… well, I couldn’t think of a good reason for my own cowardice, other than I liked this girl and it made it hard to talk to her.
But just as she was about to speak, a dark blush spread across her features as she inhaled sharply and let her hair fall back in front of her face. Angling her head toward the ground, she turned for her room to bolt.
No, I should say something. Don’t let the girl do all the hard work. Be a man damn it!
“Ria?” I said quickly, finally reclaiming my ability to speak. She paused halfway before opening her door, her head drifting back in my direction. “I…”
I had no idea what I was planning on saying. Whatever it was had died halfway out of my mouth. “Never mind, I’m sure it’s been a trying day for you as well, so I’ll give you some time to yourself. Sleep well.”
Head-bob.
I wanted to say something more, to talk to her. Anything other than saying good night. But I failed. Pretty miserably, in fact.
There will be time.
That wasn’t a convincing lie, even to myself. With a small smile and a wave, I turned and pushed open my door to find something that could only generously be called a room.
So that’s why they call it a cell.
It was about the size of two bathrooms in a typical US apartment put together. It had a small, single-person bed made of either straw or feathers that looked lumpy as hell, reminding me a bit of an overgrown peanut on a wood frame.
I threw my newly acquired clothing onto what barely passed as a bed, glancing around as I took off my shitty prison garb as quickly as I could.
“Well, at least the food was decent. That’s worth a shitty mattress and tiny room, I guess.”
There was a small wood stove in the corner, a lit candle providing minimal light on top. The darkness in the room made it hard to see, and there were no windows to the outside to help. I also noticed that there was a metal fitting in the corner that looked somewhat like a pipe. As I placed my hand near it, I could feel the air from the room getting sucked up.
“Well, at least I won’t asphyxiate myself in my sleep. Wonder if I have to clean everything too, or if that’s done by someone. I mean, someone obviously lit the candle in an unoccupied room, totally unsafe by the way. Jarrold also mentioned servants, but that’s probably just for the baths and whatnot. It will likely be my job along with shared responsibility for the hallway, if I were to guess.”
I had completely removed my crappy pants, full-on exposing myself to the world, when the door banged open.
I jumped, whirled around, and threw up my fists to defend myself as my trousers dropped to the floor in front of me.
Ria stood there, still in her prison garb, with a small hand holding the door open. Her hair was shielding her features once more, but she quickly reached up with her free hand to push it out of the way.
Once I could clearly see her eyes, they bored through me like giant drills. On instinct, I covered myself with my hands since I was standing there in my birthday suit.
She didn’t notice my state of undress. Her vision stayed fully locked on my face, her expression unreadable. Then, she marched to me like she was going to punch me.
I had no idea what I did wrong. I braced myself for the hit as she got within arm’s reach.
Instead of hitting me, she threw herself at me, wrapping herself around my arms and back where I idly noticed that her hands couldn’t reach all the way around me.
“Ria,” I breathed, thoroughly stunned. “Are… are you okay?”
Head-bob.
She held onto me like I was a life preserver and she was lost in a stormy, tumultuous sea. I had no idea why, but it felt…
Good.
Like really, really good.
She felt right. Like she somehow completed me.
I forced my hands free of her grasp so I could return the hug. She resisted at first, only letting me move once she realized what I was trying to do and not break free.
She let go for a second, but as soon as my arms wrapped around her in return, she returned to squeezing me for all I was worth.
By the way, she had gotten a lot stronger. I swore I heard some of my bones crack as she tightened her grip on me even further. It was uncomfortable, but damn, was it worth it to have this pretty girl hugging me like that.
Suddenly, my breath hitched in my throat as I felt hot tears streaming down my stomach, her form still and unmoving as she held onto me like she would die if she let go. Which, I will add, killed any thoughts my libido might have been cooking up at the time.
Even my inner caveman had to agree that this moment was far too pure to ruin with biological need. I think it was probably the first time we had ever agreed about anything without some type of intense internal struggle.
Well, as long as she didn’t move too much, at least. I’m pretty sure the caveman only had so much grace.
We stayed that way for a while, but eventually, the tears stopped, and she pulled away. She slowly lifted her head to meet my gaze, our eyes locking together as though they had never been apart.
Her deep arctic blue eyes sparkled, not in the Hexinblade magic sort of way, but as though she was finally feeling something akin to happiness.
I wished I knew how I had caused it, but honestly, I didn’t care at that moment. I physically felt my heart melt at the sight; happiness looked amazing on her. The joyous glow in her eyes, which made the corners of her eyes crinkle and the ghost of a smile pull at her lips, was nothing short of breathtaking.
Melted in a manly way of course, if you were wondering at all. I didn’t get all sappy in return, quite stoic in fact.
You will just have to trust me on it.
She stood up on her tiptoes, reached up, and guided my head down to her lips. She placed a chaste kiss on my cheek, her lips ghosting against the skin beneath my eye.
“I love you,” she said after, her voice solid and confident in a way I had not heard from her before.
Before I could process the words and her actions, she lowered herself back down from her tiptoes and beamed at me, a gigantic, blinding smile gracing her gentle features. Then, she turned and left quicker than she came in, her hair billowing behind her as she went.
She was almost running as she closed the heavy door behind her, leaving me absolutely dumbfounded. I lifted a hand to my cheek as I stared after her, finally remembering how to breathe as I slowly came to my senses.
“What… what in the absolute fuck was that?”
Chapter twenty-four
I was up for a while after Ria left to think about what she had done… and more importantly about what she said. While I did that, I also really wanted to test the new strength that I supposedly had. The fight from before got me thinking about it in the back of my head, and I wanted to get a sense of what my new limits were looking like.
Assuming the clocks here were twenty-four hours like they were back home, it was close to ten o’clock at night.
