Have you ever been saved without knowing it?
Elias led them to a hidden entrance in the side of the wall. It was a small sewer grate that opened up to a labyrinth of catacombs.
Spider webs gathered around the altars of skulls. Candles sat in artificial recesses in the walls to light the way.
War...
Milo had thought of what it might be like, but never knew for certain whether he was prepared. Warriors all across the land that were bound to be more experienced, more skilled, and more deadly than he could ever hope to match.
*Crash*
Elias threw open a grate embedded in the floor of a tavern. The group crawled out to the dry storage room of the bar. He struggled to keep up with their pace, but the boy lugged himself up and dashed to the door.
A couple of blocks away, Fowler met them at the gate entrance, pacing back and forth.
He made eye contact with Elias and turned.
"With me, now!"
Elias followed quickly behind as they jogged to the office on the second floor.
Milo followed far behind, but knew where to go.
*Slam*
He heard the office door close. As he dashed up the stairs, he stopped just before the door.
"Four days and he didn't do it?!"
Captain Fowler's screaming...
The boy leaned his head close to the door.
"My apologies, sir. The chaos of it all required me to act fast. I simply made a decision as a leader—"
*Bam*
Fowler's fists hit the table.
"Bullshit, Elias. I know exactly what you did, and I know why you did it."
"..."
The captain paced around the room before raising his finger once more.
"I thought I could trust you on this."
Elias looked forward without a shred of emotion.
"My apologies, Cap—"
"I don't want to hear it!" he screamed.
"Now, he's not ready. You understand that, don't you?"
"..."
"ANSWER ME, DAMNIT."
Fowler slammed his hands again.
"HE'S JUST A KID!" Elias shouted back.
Fowler spoke through his teeth.
"I. Don't. Care. If I want him to kill, he's the one who kills, not you."
No response.
Fowler began to walk around the table. He sat on the edge and clasped his hands in front of him. Before he spoke, he leaned in closer to Elias.
"Mind this, Elias. He's only going to survive if we make him strong."
"Useful. He's only going to be useful if we make him strong," Elias replied.
The captain threw his hands up.
"What's the difference?" he whispered.
The door swung open, and Elias started walking down the stairs. As the stairwell began to turn, a boy came into his view.
Milo sat a couple of stairs away from the door, just around the corner where Captain Fowler couldn't see.
Standing behind him, Elias hesitated to walk past.
He paused and looked down on the boy before continuing down the stairs. As he walked past, Milo wiped his face and stood.
"I can do it!" He said.
"I— I can kill someone."
Elias stopped a few stairs below him and spoke quietly over his shoulder.
"And I'm sorry for that."
His voice seemed to choke up.
As he left, another voice called out.
"Ah, Milo! Perfect!" Fowler said.
"Come to my office."
Milo turned and walked up the stairs, closing the door behind him as he entered the large office space.
Fowler sat in the middle of the room at a large wooden desk. He had strange trinkets laid about. Everything in there screamed "expensive" or "one-of-a-kind."
Milo stood awkwardly as they looked at one another. Unable to hold the gaze, he looked at his palms as he scratched his calluses.
Fowler reached under his desk, pulled out a shortsword, and set it on his desk. The hard metal thudded against the wood.
Leather wrapped around the handle, and the guard separating it from the blade was short. The guard's edges were curved up, and one side was longer than the other. The blade was single-edged and razor-sharp.
Fowler pushed it across the table. The handle scraped against the wood and interrupted the silence. Reaching under his desk again, the captain tossed a hard scabbard onto the table. It slid, but stopped just behind the sword.
"Take it."
Milo offered no objection. He grabbed the handle and pulled the sword toward him. As the blade slid off the desk, the sword's weight made his hand drop.
Heavy.
Milo sheathed the blade and wrapped the scabbard around his body. Proportionally, his size made the sword appear longer as the handle poked over his right shoulder.
The boy turned to leave, but Fowler's voice stopped him.
"You're inexperienced, small, and weak. Yet, you walk into a war without asking the commander for tips," Fowler laughed.
Milo turned to see his hands thrown up, questioning his actions. Fowler clasped his hands and smiled.
"Don't use the sword unless you have to. It'll only be a weakness with your lack of training. Use the knife I gave you. Show me your stance."
Fowler examined the boy's posture as he held the knife. Something felt off.
My weight. The sword?
"You hold a knife like you're boxing, that's good. Don't think of it as a weapon, but an extension of your punch."
He stood and walked over to Milo, taking the knife from his hand. Fowler raised his guard and held the knife out horizontally in his left hand.
"I'm only going to show you once, so watch carefully."
With his lead hand, Fowler jabbed.
Milo's eyes seemed to pick up what he had just done. Raised high, his eyebrows pulled an expression of shock onto his face.
As Milo exited the stairwell, the rest of the soldiers had fallen into ranks—around three hundred mercenaries, knights, archers, spearmen, and cavalry in total. Milo cast his satchel to the dirt beside the stairwell entrance and quickly fell in line.
Elias stood at the front and faced the ranks, but didn't speak. Another man, Vice-Captain Kael, spoke.
"You've done this before and lived. You will do it again! On my orders!"
"Heugh!" The men shouted in unison.
After directing the men on where to go, the six officers of Partifold Forty-Five led the way. At the exit, some of the soldiers smiled and inhaled the outside air deeply.
Three of the officers split left, and the rest split right.
Milo watched as Jackson, Ralph, Elias, and Flio parted from him. Conrad, Brick, and Piers stayed with Milo's section and marched toward the city walls.
Different expressions appeared on each soldier's face. Some looked worried, and some even looked happy.
What's my expression? How do I feel?
Milo looked around and let himself take in the situation a little longer before trying to let himself understand what he felt about it all.
I... don't know.
The barrage of flying boulders had ceased, but the sounds of battle persisted outside the city walls.
Soldiers from the neighboring kingdom, Broxonlec, were dressed in thin chainmail. They were decorated in blue to represent their city's flag. Stitched into the center in white was a two-headed siren.
Those from the partifold wore their own clothes and armor. There was no semblance of representation from them.
I guess half the guys here are mercenaries or criminals. They wouldn't have much allegiance to their king.
Typical soldiers of the Kingdom of Krovlizt wore yellow and black with Lady Vespus stitched in the center. Soldiers such as these made up the main force.
The two kingdoms were roughly matched in terms of knights.
Archers climbed to the top of the walls using long wooden ladders stationed on different levels of the wall. Some more versed in hand-to-hand combat stayed behind as ground-level soldiers.
Milo looked on at the large castle gate.
*Rattle*
Chains slid through pulleys as the gate slowly lowered.
As the battlefield entered his sight, Milo's stomach twisted. Butterflies sweltered as his hands tensed and dug into his palms. Soldiers around him began to pray; some unsheathed their swords or daggers.
Scared... I'm scared.
Yelling erupted in front as partifold soldiers charged forward.
Men all around Milo began to scream, so Milo did the same. He reached around to his waistband and pulled out the knife. With it clenched tightly in his hand, he ran towards the fight.