Into the Belly of the Beast

The trip from the city of Erevander to Citadel Femmbarr had been long and tiresome for the young elf and by the time she finally arrived at the doorstep of the Last Dragon Inn, she was incredibly hungry and terribly exhausted.

“At least the spring scenery of the plains was, rewarding..,” she thought in an attempt to reassure herself as she let out an audible sigh. It was at this point that she started realizing the true weight that crossing the threshold into the building’s interior had over her.

She had planned on arriving at least a week before the registry even started but, since she felt she had the time to tarry, she 'allowed' herself to take more than a few unnecessary stops along the way. After all, she had always enjoyed her solitude, but upon entering the inn she immediately regretted that decision. The place was bustling with what seemed to her like a horde of other youngsters who were there, presumably, for the same reason that she was; to undertake their mandatory military service.

Even though there hadn’t been any wars during the last 726 years, every two years since the end of the last great dragon war, the nation of Velthara had drafted its young citizens to temporarily serve in its military. Both her parents served during their youth, as did her older brother a couple of decades ago, and now it was her turn.

“For an elf, two years shouldn’t be too much of a hassle” she thought unconvinced as she committed herself to reach the counter.

She knew she lacked that perspective a lifespan of a couple hundred years gave to other elves. She was 25 at that time, an age that in most other cultures would qualify for full adulthood, but for her elven peers, she was still no more than a child. Even her own brother who was only two decades older than her, treated her as such, and that bothered her greatly. But this, this was her rite of passage. She would come back home as an equal to Gaillarael.

The young elf carefully examined the place until she found an open seat at the bar counter and gracefully made her way through what resembled, at least to her, an ocean of crowded tables. Upon arriving, she was greeted by a stocky gold dwarf sporting a thick brown beard and a pair of bushy eyebrows that almost hid his blue eyes. He wore a heavily stained cloth apron on top of a simple yet well-crafted tunic with its sleeves rolled up.

“Hoi youngun’!,” the dwarf said. Despite his gruff appearance, the dwarf’s attitude was warm and welcoming. “Not many moon elfs around this year!, name’s Bybor. Can I get ye’ somethin’?.”

“A meal and a room please,” she answered softly, so much so that it took the dwarf a moment to decipher the answer. 

“Oh boi! Fer that ye' should have arrived earlier, my lass. The meal I can surely get ye’, but unless ye’r a Keilryn Varivender, ye’ll have to find somewhere else to sleep tonight...

"This year there’s a lot of ye’,” said the dwarf, gesturing at the bustling establishment. Expecting an answer the dwarf decided to lean forward on the tip of his toes to better hear the elf over the general noise of the room.

“I’m sorry, but. What do you mean by that? Why is my name important? And, how would you know of it?” she replied, visibly confused, raising her voice after taking the cue offered by the leaning dwarf.

“Well... A letter arrived, ‘bout a week ago, requesting lodging fer a young moon elf goin’ by that name. And since no other of yer kind arrived with this generation, I only assumed— 

“Ye' were expected to arrive a couple of days ago. Y'see, the letter included payment for the whole week.—

“Ye' do understand I cannot offer ye' a refund, right?” The dwarf said as a manner of closing statement.

“Right...“ she said absentmindedly.

“Did the letter say who the sender was?” the young elf asked, still trying to process the information.

“It arrived by Hawk and was signed by some Gail... Maybe yer Da’. Or Ma’?. I never know, elven names have always eluded me, can’t tell if—

“No offense, of course. ‘Ere, take a look! There’s a bunch of stuff written in elven inside. Guess that part’s intended fer ye’...”

The dwarf handed her a letter written over a coarse parchment. As she read through its contents, her pale purple skin started to turn violet with both anger and embarrassment. She was undoubtedly grateful for her brother’s foresight, but there he was, treating her like a child again.

Watching the colorful display of emotions over the moon elf’s face, the dwarf produced a room key from below the counter and excused himself with a softened expression, “I’ll get yer meal, youngun’." Even when only a few moments ago she was starving, when the dwarf handed her a plate brimming with food, she ended up eating from it halfheartedly. After finishing her meal, she then walked upstairs to relieve her from her belongings, and settled on spending the afternoon exploring the area surrounding the inn.

With the exception of the small hamlet of farmers and traders where the Last Dragon Inn stood, most of Femmbarr’s extension was occupied by a walled citadel that served as training grounds for new recruits as well as a staging area for other Veltharan troops heading down south to Blackgate. Since she hadn’t registered as a cadet yet, her little exploration trip was confined to the civilian area, so she decided to spend some time by the Fem River before heading back to the inn.

Not long after arriving at the river bank dusk started to creep in, and almost immediately she felt some of that weariness that had been burdening her since she arrived, wash away with the fading light. After all, she was a moon elf and had always reveled in the cold solace of night. Keilryn wasn't by any measure, strikingly beautiful, yet her face had a delicate grace that certainly drew the eye. Naturally, her skin was of a light purple tone and she had bright violet eyes, that sparkled like twin amethysts reflecting the depth of her curiosity. Her long, pale hair, nearly white in color, flowed like a river of moonlight down her back. She took great pride in adorning it with thin braids, each adorned with silvery beads that caught the light and added to her enchanting appearance. 

She stood by the riverbank for a while, soaking in the atmosphere, with only the tranquil sound of running water and the rustling of grass keeping her company. She took notice of a thick woodland area to the east of the settlement, past the bridge, that she thought would be nice to explore on a later day, and watched a couple of human kids throw fishing lines while they talked and laughed. “They’re still too young to be concerned about anything else I guess," she thought to herself before adding, "how nice.” She also noted how early nightfall happened this far south, in comparison to Erevander’s long hours of daylight, and wondered, why in the world the biggest community of moon elves in all of Velthara formed so far north, so close to the Everlight?. Much to her discomfort, she realized it was time to make her trip back to the Last Dragon. Tomorrow was a 'big day', so she thought it wouldn't be wise to ‘stay up’ late. 

When she arrived at the inn though, the dining hall was in total disarray. From what she could quickly gather, there had been a scuffle between a group of peasant enlistees and some pompous “sons of someone” from the big city. Apparently, punches were tossed, and now all sorts of food and drink laid splattered around the floor. The few patrons that still remained inside the inn rushed to finish their meals, while the staff worked diligently to clean up the littered remains of food off the floor.

Keilryn tried her best to navigate the mess without disturbing the cleaning efforts and was halfway across the hall when she was stopped short by a voice calling out. “Hey you! moon girl. Care to come and tend to my wounds?. You seem to have a delicate touch, and that’s just what I need right now…”

Distraught by such a statement, she turned around only to see a young wood elf boy reclined over a seat, surrounded by a bunch of other pampered-looking males of other races. His handsome features were only accentuated by a long and well-kept golden mane; he wore expensive silk robes over his slim body and a cynical smirk on his face. He looked a bit tattered, yes, but she was certain he wasn’t injured. Despite that fact; a pair of human girls, village daughters judging by their appearance, tenderly caressed the pretty elf as if he really was.

“Seems to me that you have all the tending cares you need, m'lord.—

“Or deserve, for all I care.” That last part she spoke to herself as she turned back to face the stairs that would lead her to her room.

“Don't turn your back on me, moon girl! Don’t you know who I am?” the elf raised his voice.

“Not know, nor care. Good night to you, milord.” She continued without glancing back.

“It’s true what they say about your kind…—

“Heartless bitch that one, huh?” the male elf said as he looked back at the group, which immediately burst into laughter. They were all turning to mind their own business again when a piece of what seemed to be a half-eaten sandwich landed right into one of the wood elf’s smooth cheeks.

“Oh, now you’re gonna get it!” he screamed and got up from his seat reaching for the fine rapier that hung on his belt. Keilryn stood frozen at this gesture, while she was a full 25-feet away from him, she was unarmed and had never before participated in a fight.

“Methinks one fight’s too many fer tonight boi!” Bybor’s commanding voice resounded all over the hall. “Ye' are exceeding the boundaries of my hospitality and I’m not in the mood of summoning the guards once again.—

“I’ll kindly ask ye' bullies to take yer leave, lest ye grant me the honor of kicking yer shiny butts myself!.” There was a slight pause in the dwarf’s scolding. “And for fuck’s sake! unhand that weapon ye' fool!. Ye' wouldn’t know what to do with it even if ye' were in front of a troll-shaped rock.”

The elf glared at Keilryn with fury before spatting. “You purple scum should have stayed on the other side of the rift. In the dark where you belong!”

“Enough!” shouted the dwarf while smacking at a table.

“See you in the training course then, moon girl.” Added the wood elf before leaving.

After the group had left the premises, the dwarf let a long, calming sigh out. Keil added, “I’m sorry, that was foolish,” ashamed, but also frightened.

“Don’t be. Every two years we have ‘em. Damn Righlor braggarts.” Bybor turned to Keilryn and motioned towards the bar counter, “I’m bound to have something fer yer nerves. If ye' care to have some.”

“I… I think I’ll be fine without it. Thanks,” Keilryn stuttered.

“Have to admit, that was a solid throw back there. Ye’ll do well at the trials tomorrow. Ye’ll see.—

“For now. Get some rest.”

The young moon elf looked gratefully at Bybor and halfheartedly exclaimed, “Yeah, rest…”

She entered the small room that was to be her lodging for the night and attempted to follow through with what the dwarf had suggested, but her nerves were wrecked. In the end, the best she could achieve was staring at the moon through the window while sitting motionless in bed for long hours until she finally succeeded in falling ‘asleep’.

As an elf, Keylrin’s ‘sleep’ was more akin to a trance-like state than to actual, sounding, profound sleep; therefore, she was aware that dawn had arrived when she started hearing the rustling of heavy backpacks and the hurried pounding of feet on the wooden floors of the inn. This was the last day for the registry of applicants as well as the official welcome for the new generation of recruits and those sounds were the indication she needed to get ready, so she promptly snapped out of her trance and changed into a clean set of clothes, redo her hair, and packed the few things she carried in her backpack as quickly as she could. As soon as that was done she raced downstairs to thank her dwarven host.

To her surprise, the dwarf was already expecting her at the counter. The majority of other cadets just tossed their room keys at the wooden counter in a hurry, without even glancing back at Bybor to express their gratitude. 

“Hoi youngun’! Big day today huh? Ye' ready?.” He exclaimed in a cheerful tone.

“As ready as one can be, I guess…” She genuinely tried to match the dwarf’s high-spirited attitude but felt that her actual response was somehow lackluster.

“Ha ha!  First days’ are rough, not gonna lie to ye'. But ye'll get the hang of it in no time, ye'll see.” He replied nonchalantly.

After a short pause, he added, “trust me, I know. I also went through it all. A couple of ages ago, of course.”

She let out a modest laugh before getting bumped into by a young gnome girl with vibrant pink hair tied into a ponytail. The gnome was too preoccupied with memorizing the exact wording for her spell’s verbal components to care for anything else.

"Hey!" Keilryn retorted, but the gnome continued unfazed on her way to the door. Keil turned back to Bybor, slightly rattled, and said, "Thank you for your hospitality, Master Bybor."

“Figured ye' wouldn't leave without sayin' goodbye. I really appreciate that kind of clientele, y’know?—

 “On top o'dat yer kin paid for a whole extra week in advance. So, I figured I could get a little somethin' fer ye' to compensate,” the dwarf added while searching below the counter, he then procured a simple-looking leather scabbard with a small hunting knife sheathed inside. “Please take this.”

“But, just yesterday you said not to expect any refund, master Bybor,” she said jokingly.

“Ha! And I stand by that! This is more of a gift, lass. Know that it is not a weapon, but a tool.”

“I would hope I'll never have to use it altogether.” She replied as she took the knife and carefully packed it inside her rucksack.

“One can certainly hope. Still, I trust ye’ll find a good use for it during these next two years.” Said the dwarf matter-of-factly.

"Thanks again, Master Bybor. For everything." The stream of other would-be cadets on their way out dwindled drastically, and the young elf took that as her cue. "I think, I should get going..."

"Of course! Don’t let me keep ye' any longer. Come visit again whenever ye' have the time, lass."

Keil stepped out onto the gravel road and hurriedly headed to the nearest citadel gate. Luckily for her, it was just a few blocks away from the Last Dragon. However, by the time she arrived a long queue had already formed, and she was, of course, the last in line.

Inside and out, the citadel was bustling with activity; soldiers came and went, handing uniforms to newcomers and escorting enlistees to their assigned barracks. Keil spotted the little gnome girl who had bumped into her moments ago, still stubbornly trying to memorize her spells.

"So glad magic's not my thing," she mused to herself, trying to dismiss the mounting anxiety. She knew she had everything she needed. She even looked inside her rucksack one last time to make sure her papers and letter of recommendation were there.

Unsurprisingly, everything was in place, yet for some strange reason, she still felt awfully unprepared for this moment. The exceedingly slow pace at which each new applicant was registered and assigned didn’t help her state of mind at all. When she finally stepped up to the counter and handed over her papers, her heart was almost racing out of her chest. She took a moment to collect herself and placed her documents on the makeshift table.

The officer in front of her was a human, although it was difficult for her to ascertain the age of other humanoids, he looked like he was in his late forties, his square jaw and chiseled features were framed by short-cropped dark hair streaked with silver hair, clad in a meticulously maintained uniform adorned with various medals and insignias. He gave her a once-over look, then glanced behind her to make sure she was the last applicant for the day. His eyes returned to her face and lingered there for a moment, as if in recognition, but quickly fell again to the registry form and Keilryn's papers. 

"So, the last one this year ends up being a dark elf... That's gotta be a bad omen," he muttered, making no attempt to conceal his words. "Name?"

Her mind immediately flashed back to the encounter with the wood elf just the night before. "Excuse me? Dark elf? That's somewhat rude, don't you think?" Keil retorted, visibly upset.

"Rude?" the officer said, amused. "You hear that, Abaz?" he added, turning to another soldier standing nearby. The soldier laughed and continued with his tasks. "Listen, girl. This is the army, not one of your fancy dinner parties or whatever it is you're accustomed to in your forest city home. Here, you'll do as you're told and count your blessings. Nobody cares about your feelings."

"How can you... you don't even—" Keilryn started, but the officer abruptly interrupted her.

"Name."

Keil groaned but quickly gave up and answered, "Keilryn Varivender."

“Age.”

“25.”

“Place of birth?”

“Isn’t all that information in my papers?” Keilryn retorted again.

The officer gave a long, disgruntled look right into Keilryn’s eyes and continued. "Place of birth?"

She sighed in utter defeat and replied, "Erevander."

"Living relatives?"

"Um, my parents and a brother."

"Names, occupation, and place of residence?"

"No wonder it took so long to get here..." she muttered to herself, not low enough apparently.

"You should have seen the goblin with seventeen brothers and sisters. Only from his mother’s side."

"How’s that even—"

"You'd be surprised… Do not further waste my time, girl, and answer." He looked right into Keil's eyes with a cynical expression and ended his statement with a plain, "Please?"

"Ugh, fine! Father: Naelfeyn Seleryn, he's a scrivener for the Erevander University library. Mother's name is Melindra Varivender, she's the head librarian, also in Erevander. And my brother is Gaillarael Varivender, he's a ranger in the Erevander city watch."

"I see. Do you have any particular skills?"

"I'm proficient with a bow. I have a recommendation letter from my—"

"We'll see about that in the trials tomorrow. That's going to be all for now! Private Kargadz, equip Miss Dark Elf here with a uniform and escort her to Barrack Oldfang immediately."

"Yes, sir!" the soldier replied, then added, "Oldfang, huh? Tough luck."

"She should've arrived earlier. Besides, I think she'll fit right in with the others..." The officer gave her one last once-over look before turning to give orders to the other soldiers at the registry booth. "Seems we're done here, people! The rest of you, help me pack up and close the gate."

Private Rolv Kargadz, a thirty-something human male with brown hair and a well-kept beard motioned for Keil to follow and handed her a clean uniform as they passed through the gate. He finally addressed her, "Don't take it personally. He's like that sometimes, but he's a fine officer once you get to know him."

"Easy for you to say... sorry if I can't take you at your word," she answered absentmindedly. "Anyway, what's wrong with Barrack Oldfang? And what did he mean by 'fitting in with the others'?" she inquired, still upset but also a little worried.

"Well... the Oldfang Barrack has a history of being reserved for both troublemakers and outcasts," he replied, his tone tinged with uneasiness. "Not that you look like either of them to me, mind you."

Keilryn flared up again, "So is it because I'm a 'dark' elf that I belong with them?!"

Private Kargadz stopped on his tracks and sighed, then turned to explain, “You’ll see, Lieutenant Graywood comes from a family with a long military history. And I'm just guessing that since most of your kind allied themselves with the mineral dragons during the last great dragon war, he…—

“But it’s not just you! He’s like that with goblinoids, and orcs too...” he said, in a miserable attempt to offer some context.

"I'm sorry. Am I supposed to, I don't know, not be offended, because it isn’t just me? Plenty of humans sided with the mineral dragons during the war too.—

“A war he wasn’t even in, to begin with!" Keil's voice was starting to crack with repressed anger.

"Well, you’ve certainly done your homework. That’s... not something they usually print in the textbooks," the human replied calmly, a little amazed and sincerely embarrassed, trying to ease the tension.

"Librarian parents will do that to you." Keilryn replied plainly.

“Look, I’m sorry you had to go through that… I really am,” he stated heartfeltly. “The first couple of weeks here are going to be rough.—

“But you’ll get the hang of it, we all do. And after that, it gets a lot better, I promise. We’re almost there...” They had just arrived at the barracks area of the camp. Oldfang was a small wooden building that stood near the west side of the wall and was one of the last structures in its row.

After some more walking, he stopped, turned back to Keil, and said, "Well, here we are!"

"Somehow it looks shabbier than what I expected..." Keil replied ironically.

"Welcome to the army! I guess..." he said jokingly, matching Keil's tone. She just chuckled.

“Trials start tomorrow, you are required to be present at the training grounds later today for the general’s address, just before sundown.” 

“Understood.”

“Listen, most people here are going to be jerks to you, and not only for your heritage.—

"But not everyone here is a jackass. If you ever need something, you can look for me or ask for Staff Sergeant Brightbelt. Red-haired dwarf, thick beard—you can't miss him. He's always willing to help."

“And, your name is? You know… in case I do need to look for you.”

“Oh yeah, silly me right?. Name’s Rolv, Rolv Kargadz.”

“Thank you, Rolv, I'll keep that in mind.”

“I have to report back to the gate now. Best of luck, cadet.” Rolv stated.

“Think I might need it?”

“Well… we all need it at some point. Don't we?” He replied with a sincere smile.

"Fair point..." Keil paused before ironically stating, "Guess I have some 'fitting in with the others' to do, don't I?" She motioned to the barrack's door.

Rolv gave her a military salute, and she followed suit, trying her best to imitate the motion. He nodded in acknowledgment, turned on his heel, and returned hastily to his post while Keil was once again, left standing outside yet another threshold.

She proceeded to knock on the door and wait. On the other side she was able to hear some rustling and shuffling noises followed by a couple of thuds and a long and awkward silence.

"Can I come in?" she exclaimed and waited again.

Behind the door, there was silence, then she heard a confused and boyish voice blurt out, "What!?" After another long and awkward pause, the same voice added in a puzzled tone, "Um... yeah, yeah. You can... I guess?"

Only then did she open the door and step inside the building, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness as she entered.

Being so close to the citadel's stone wall, the room was dimly lit, barely illuminated by a small window and the light coming in from the open door. Bunk beds lined the walls, and a small table sat in the back. Beside the beds closest to the table, standing perplexed, were a lanky human boy in his teens with pale skin and a mop of unruly greyish-green hair that seemed to have a mind of its own, and a big-framed hobgoblin covered in coarse brown hair.

After some uncomfortable looks of confusion between all three of them, the human boy, still bewildered, was the first to speak, "So... you lost, or something?"

“Um… not that I gather” Keil quickly replied. “I’m pretty sure this is my assigned barrack… My name is—”

The human boy interrupted her and spoke again, “Ha! So you’re new? That explains a lot! You really scared the breath out of us! Y’know?”

“I didn’t mean to, I’m... sorry?” she stuttered.

“Oh, boy! Here we go…” the hobgoblin exclaimed loudly in anticipation.

The human boy gasped for air and started talking, "Just to clarify, and hopefully avoid you thinking weird stuff about us. Before you knocked, we were... working! On a secret project of ours... that I can't and won't tell you what it is, because it's secret, of course; but then you knocked on the door... and for a moment, we thought you were an officer conducting some sort of surprise inspection on us. So we had to rush and hide it! And now, here we are... talking calmly as if nothing ever happened. What happened? Nothing happened, see? Hello, newbie, I'm Erren!"

“Man, you do realize that did sound super weird, right?” Inquired the hobgoblin.

“Oh! but we definitely weren’t doing anything weird, or suspicious, or anything in between obviously. Just, you see, secret…” The boy said in a failed attempt to sound casual.

“Right…” Keil asserted, but still sounding unsure.

"Dude! Just stop, ok?" the hobgoblin demanded in a friendly but stern tone. His face was rugged, with a strong jawline, piercing brown eyes that could easily be both intimidating and surprisingly gentle, a wide, flat nose, and a pair of tusks that protruded slightly from his lower lip. "Name's Khuvark, and this weirdo here is Erren. We're happy to make your acquaintance," he said, extending his hand towards Keilryn while motioning with his head towards his squadmate.

"Hi! I'm Erren," added the boy.

"My name is Keilryn, and I'm honored to meet you both." Keil extended her hand to shake the hobgoblin’s and noticed an impressive array of scars along his arm. Upon seeing this, the hobgoblin quickly pulled back his arm, giving an embarrassed look to the elf as an excuse for the gesture.

"Dude, did she just say honored? She's nice to us, man. That's surely a first, isn’t it?" Erren said, then motioned to their surroundings, still amazed at the elf’s demeanor. "But how come someone as graceful and well-mannered as you, is so unfortunate as to end up here with us?"

“Because I’m a ‘Dark elf’, I guess.”

"Oh! so you got the 'You hear that, soldier?' guy at the booth?" Erren inquired, making his finest impression of Lieutenant Graywood.

She just chuckled and nodded.

“He was also super mean to Khuvark, right buddy?”

"I swear, I'm gonna punch him in the nuts someday!" The hobgoblin clenched his fist in front of his face in an attempt to look menacing, but instead, he ended up looking kind of funny.

"Yeah, and end up in solitary like—

"Excuse me! Just what do you think you’re doing!?" Erren's expression suddenly changed as he stared at Keil, who was placing her rucksack on one of the beds close to the door.

Keil froze, as if she had been caught in the middle of a transgression. She wasn’t sure she was, but the tone in Erren's voice certainly felt like it. "I’m just… unpacking."

"Oh. Trust me, you don’t want to do that there..." the boy replied seriously.

"Why? Is this one taken?"

"Not only taken, that’s Trosha’s," added Khuvark.

"O... kay. How about this one?" Keil motioned at the bunk directly on top.

Erren made a face of true concern and said, "Do you have a death wish or something?"

"You make Trosha sound like some kind of monster."

Erren and Khuvark didn’t answer and just stared at Keilryn’s general direction, motionless and speechless.

"Is Trosha a monster?" Keil asked jokingly, trying to lighten the mood, "with everything that's happened it would not surprise me anymore," but the pair’s faces only grew increasingly preoccupied. At that moment Keil couldn't help but remember how she felt when the wood elf boy threatened her with his rapier, but before she could say something else she felt a forceful jerk from the back of her neck that slammed her into one of the bunk's supports.

"Do you want to find out, smart girl?" replied a rough female voice.

Keilryn’s vision blurred momentarily and a stark pain started to spread from her temple where her head had struck the wooden support. The grip around her neck quickly loosened and she immediately turned around to face her attacker, still slightly disoriented. 

Trosha stood tall and imposing, a female orc with warm brown skin and deep black hair styled into a striking mohawk, tied into tight dreadlocks. Her sharp, almond-shaped eyes gleamed with a bright amber hue that burned with aggression and defiance. Her presence was overwhelming, and the room fell into utter stillness. Erren and Khuvark stood frozen in the back, their expressions a blend of expectancy and concern.

"What’s your problem!?" Keil spat back, trying to mask her fear with bravado while trying to ease her pain by rubbing her hand against her temple.

Trosha leaned in with a look of disdain, “pretty and dumb little girls that go around asking stupid questions, like you, are my problem.”

“I’m not a…” Keil started a sentence, but was quickly rebuked by a deep growl from Trosha as her expression revealed a pair of sharp tusks protruding from her lower jaw, similarly to Khuvark’s.

“You think I care!? Now, get that junk out of my space if you don't want a broken rib.” Her voice was low and dangerous.

“Trosha, we…” said Khuvark trying to ease the tension, but Trosha glared back with another growl, her face contorted with anger. 

“Fine!” Keil took her rucksack from the bed as quickly as she could and stepped aside. 

Trosha walked over to the bed and knelt, rummaging through her belongings stored beneath it. She retrieved a lump of what appeared to be soap, stood up, turned back to Keil and spat before adding, “this isn’t over yet, elf.” With that, the orc stalked toward the exit, shoving Keil with her shoulder as she passed and revealing several long, half-healed gashes across her back on her way out. Clearly the result of a recent flogging.

 Keil was left standing in the middle of the room, trembling. The boys exchanged a glance, and Khuvark finally spoke up. "Of all of us, Trosha's the one who's had it rougher all this time.”

"For all we know, she was the first to be assigned to Oldfang this year,” added Erren. “And she’s always on her own, thankfully, you've seen what she's like. A couple of days ago, she got into a fight with some human boy who called her… let’s just say, called her names, okay?. She beat the living soul out of him, the poor guy never stood a chance… But turns out he was a son-of-someone from town, and she ended up paying for the offense."

Keil sat on the edge of the nearest bunk, rubbing her neck. A dull throb pulsed behind her forehead, the pain coalescing into a bump. She stared at the door, breathing shallowly, trying to push back the wave of adrenaline still coursing through her. But it wasn’t just the shock or the pain she was coping with, it was the look of dismissal in Trosha’s eyes, like she wasn’t even worth the effort. And worst of all, thanks to what the pair of fools had just said, beneath all the anger, frustration, and bruised pride… she was starting to feel a pang of sympathy toward her.

"Just great..." she muttered.

She was feeling a complicated mix of emotions, none of which she could fully make sense of. The day was shaping up to be one of the worst of her life, and it wasn’t even sundown. She felt that she needed air and space to think. Without another word, she dropped her rucksack in the middle of the cabin and absentmindedly headed outside, her steps quick and purposeful.

Khuvark and Erren just stood there, not really knowing what else to say. Or do.

Keil wandered along the edge of the wall until the sun began to set yet again. Slowly, the others started to gather near a makeshift stage near the training field. “Must be for the general’s address Rolv mentioned,” she thought. So she tried to find a spot where she wouldn't draw too much attention to herself and decided to see what it was all about.

The crowd buzzed with anticipation. Some of the new recruits looked eager, ready to hear the words that would inaugurate their training and set the tone for the next two years. A mob of cadets had crammed in near the front, their eyes fixed on the stage where they expected the general to appear. Others, like Keil, kept their distance from the throng, content to observe from afar. Around the improvised stage, soldiers and staff stood vigilant, their gazes sharp, watchful for any sign of disorder.

A couple of minutes later, a stern-looking dwarf with a thick red beard took the stage, and the chatter died instantly. He was stocky and broad-shouldered, his spotless uniform adorned with a row of shining medals. His beard was neatly braided, interlaced with rings and beads of golden metal that served as practical jewelry, held tightly to his chest with a leather clasp. He stood in silence, his sharp eyes scanning the crowd. Keil heard murmurs from a group of cadets nearby: “that must be Sergeant Brightbelt.”

She recognized the name from Rolv. Now she finally had a face to go with it.

A few moments passed in relative silence before the air suddenly, and quite literally, electrified around them. The low hum of static rolled over the crowd, and the hair of the attendants frizzed visibly. From the northeast came the unmistakable sound of large, leathery wings beating against the air. Everyone quickly turned their heads upward and from the side of the wall a massive dragon emerged, its silvery scales glimmering in the fading red light of dusk.It soared above the crowd in a graceful arc, casting a vast shadow over the field below. Many attendees gasped and a collective “wow,” escaped from the multitude, Keil included.

It was not the first time she ever saw a dragon, after all her nation was ruled by them, but certainly she had never seen one this close and none so majestic. The flying creature went up before making a sudden spin to dive down nose forward directly into the stage, everyone gasped for air and braced for impact, but the fall ended smoothly, without even a thump, as the majestic dragon seemed to disappear. In its place, the figure that rose was that of a regal and handsome humanoid, appearing as a wood elf with flowing silver hair. “That ought to be the general”, expressed the same cadets that identified Sergeant Brightbelt. The silver-haired elf stepped forward and began to speak, his voice sounded more clearly than what Keil expected.

"Cadets," he addressed them, his tone both warm and authoritative, "you stand here today on the verge a journey that will forge the very essence of who you are and whether you know it or not, each of you has already shown their commitment to face that challenge head on solely by being here."

The general’s gaze swept over the assembly, his eyes gleaming with a steely resolve. “But know this: the road ahead will not be easy. We live in a time when most people have grown complacent, lulled into a false sense of security by centuries of peace. Yet it is our duty to rise above that, and to become living examples of the values that made our nation strong in the first place. This strength is not merely about maintaining order or preserving political stability. It is about resolve and the determination to act when all others falter, and the courage to stand firm in the face of evil. Because peace, while precious, is not everlasting.”

He paused for a moment, allowing his words to sink in, then continued using a firm and steady voice. “You come from different regions, different walks of life, carrying with you your own struggles and stories. But here, you are united under a single purpose: to protect, serve, and usher the nation of Velthara into a new age. Understand this, true strength is aways forged in the crucible of adversity. Resolve is not in the choosing of a path, but in the commitment to reach the destination regardless of sacrifice. Courage is not in the absence of fear, but in mastery over it.

He straightened his back and puffed out his chest, his voice rising with passion. "Tomorrow, you will be tested. Physically, mentally, and emotionally, and throughout the next two years you will face moments of doubt and despair. But it is in those very moments that your true character will be revealed, and you’ll have to dig deep and the strength within. Here, you are not just individuals; you are part of something greater. And I'm certain that together, we are capable of overcoming any obstacle, any foe."

The crowd burst into applause and the general’s expression softened, a subtle smile manifested at the corners of his mouth. "I believe in each and every one of you. I have seen the spark of valor in your eyes and the promise for greatness in your actions. Embrace the trials ahead with courage and determination, and you will emerge not just as adults, but as defenders of your homeland." And with that, the general took a  step back, his eyes still fixed into the crowd, he straightened his back again and made a salute, the same Rolv had made to Keil earlier. The gathering erupted in cheers and applause as he finally turned and stepped off the stage.

Immediately, Sergeant Brightbelt took his place and the fuss quickly subsided, not out of boredom, but out of reverence. The dwarf spoke in a firm but practical voice, “I'm Staff Sergeant Gangram Brightbelt.” he announced. “You heard the general, we both have high expectations of all of you. Now go get some rest. No cadet is to be outside their barracks after ‘last breath’, you’ll recognize the sound. Activities begin at first call tomorrow. Report to the instructor of your preferred class for assessments.”

He gave the crowd a curt salute and added “You are all dismissed.”

As the gathering dispersed, Keil watched the other cadets make their way back to their barracks in high spirits. Their voices echoed with excitement, some already boasting about their strengths while others playfully challenged one another to outperform the rest in the trials. Camaraderie floated through the twilight like embers rising from a campfire. The scene made her feel hollow. The thought of returning to Oldfang and face Trosha again filled her with dread. So she lingered.

As the gathering dispersed, Keil watched the other cadets head back toward their barracks in high spirits. Their voices echoing with excitement, some already boasting about their strengths, others playfully challenging one another to outperform the rest during the trials. Camaraderie floated in the twilight air like embers from a campfire. The scene made her feel hollow. And the thought of returning to Oldfang and facing Trosha again filled her with dread. So she decided to linger.

She stood there alone, rubbing her arm, unsure of what to do next. The last rays of sun stained the training field in burnt orange, shadows stretched like fingers toward the open space. The smell of churned dirt floated in the air, and the echoes of laughter drifted further with each step the other cadets took away.

That’s when she spotted her. In the dark, the lone, wiry silhouette of a goblin darted across the training field with effortless rhythm.

At first Keil hesitated, but then, without thinking too much about it, she headed toward the runner. She didn’t quite understood why, perhaps it was the silence, the solitude, or simply the need to speak to someone who wouldn’t push back.

Or at least, someone who might listen.

Even in the creeping dark, Keil could tell the goblin was a girl. Small and deceptively lean for her athletic frame. Her jet-black hair fell unevenly to one side of her head, while the other had been cropped much shorter, as if it had been shorn recently. Her long ears were even longer than Keil’s and her skin was of a dusky green. Her sharp and unreadable eyes flicked to movement like those of a predator.

She watched Keil approach, her gaze following the moon elf with wary precision. But as Keil drew closer and the goblin was sure she didn’t pose a threat, she simply glanced at her, nodded invitingly and darted again toward the far end of the field, picking up her pace again.

Keil let out a tired sigh. “Great. Another annoying weirdo…” she muttered, but set off after her anyway.

She quickly fell into step beside her. “You know, they’re probably going to make us run laps first thing tomorrow anyway.”

The goblin said nothing. Her breathing was steady, her gaze fixed forward.

Keil tried again. “Is this your strategy? Outrun everyone before the trials even start?”

Still no answer.

Keil huffed loudly in frustration. “All right, I get it. Thanks for nothing…” She picked up her pace, determined to at least reach the end of the field before resigning herself to return to barrack Oldfang in utter defeat.

Then, the goblin girl finally spoke, her voice flat but not exactly uncaring. “If you run and talk at the same time, your side’s gonna start hurtin’ real soon.”

“So you are listening,” Keil said, surprised, keeping pace beside her. For a while, neither spoke. Only the steady patter of their feet on packed dirt and the wind whistling past their ears filled the silence.

Keil wasn’t even sure why she kept running, but the goblin’s presence didn’t feel cold, just distant. Maybe ‘this’ was better than letting her conflicted thoughts get the best of her. Lost in that thought, she turned to the goblin again and began speaking. “I came all the way here thinking I could prove something. That I’m not a child anymore, that I’m capable, that I’m not someone to be cast aside. But it feels as if, just like at home, everyone here is already convinced otherwise. And now I’m supposed to share a barrack with someone who might gut me in my sleep just for looking at her wrong. Right now I’m literally cowering out here, talking to strangers, to avoid her. I don’t know what else to do!” 

“Keep up.”

“What, how am I supposed to keep up with that!?” Keil shouted, confused but then realized the goblin had suddenly sprinted ahead for the last length of the field, and she was lagging behind.

When Keil reached the edge of the field, the goblin girl was already stretching. Keilryn was slightly out of breath, and her side ached acutely, just as the goblin had predicted. But she also felt oddly relieved. The physical strain, and the brief conversation, had been unexpectedly cathartic.

“That was... helpful,” Keil said between breaths. “You come out here to think?”

“I come here not to,” the goblin replied plainly. “It’s almost time. We should head back.”

“You got a name?”

“You can call me Ukla. Though the human and the hob also sometimes call me ‘Laps’. You may use either, I don’t really care.”

“Wait, you’re in Oldfang too?”

A horn blared from a tall tower at the center of the complex, a long, slowly fading note. Keil guessed that must be the signal Sergeant Brightbelt had called ‘Last Breath.’ When she snapped back, the goblin was already walking back toward the barracks. Keil followed closely behind.

When they arrived at the small hut Keil’s body tensed again and she began to hesitate. The earlier calm was fast dissolving.

It wasn’t long before she realized Ukla was watching her. “Survive first. Be understood later.” Ukla’s voice was emotionless and practical.

The goblin then crossed the threshold nonchalantly.

It wasn’t the advice Keil had been expecting, but it wasn’t bad, either. She took it to heart and stepped inside.

The air suddenly became heavy with silence. Erren and Khuvark were in the middle of a card game, but both looked up as soon as the door opened and they now watched expectantly for the ensuing storm. Trosha laid on her bed with her arms crossed behind her head, staring intently at her.

“You get top bunk, smart girl. And no, you don’t get a say. Make noise and I’ll shank you from below.”

Keil had no doubts the orc may follow through on that threat. Still she took a long, calming breath, and then, without a word, walked confidently to the bed, climbing up deftly without making a sound, her elven agility showing.

As the boys resumed their card game with humor, the barrack slipped back into uneasy quiet. Keil shifted on the thin mattress and folded her arms behind her head, a mirrored gesture of defiance.

The ache in her side had almost disappeared, but the sensation served as a quiet reminder of Ukla’s warning.

Survive first. Be understood later.

Ch. IV - Rites of passage

Coming soon...

Latest update on 09/07/2025. More content coming soon.