I, Fortitude

Clang.
Clang.
Clang.
Over and over again, like a metallic heartbeat.
Clang.
Clang.
Clang.
A few more hours, and this shift would be over.
Clang.
Clang.
Cla--There was a pause. Luca stood straight, wiping sweat across his brow. Around him, hundreds of other shapes worked, loud and raucous. A pat on his shoulder brought his focus back. "Don't let the boss see you lounging around here." A friendly voice chimed between the clanging of metal. Luca turned to see Hoss, his roommate and fellow laborer. A pair of small, rugged horns escaped his forehead, and his skin was a grayish color. His eyes flashed a wicked yellow, as he offered a grin.
"I'm just messing with you...although you really shouldn't stand around for too long, man."
Luca sighed, and nodded in slight frustration. 
"Hoss...can-can I tell you something...seriously?" He asked between pickaxe swings.
Hoss affirmed with a flick of his forked tail, hacking away at a particularly chunky piece of rock.
Luca leaned in slightly, but still had to speak loudly to be heard.

"I think I'm going to join the army." he called.
Hoss didn't hear him, no doubt due to the racket he was putting out. He replied with a loud "Huh?"
"I said, I'm joining the army! I'm going soon!"
This time it was Hoss who paused, and he turned to stare at him incredulously. 

"The whaaat!? "
 "Why!?"  he cried. A few of the figures working turned in curiosity. 

It was always dark under here. Not a normal darkness, like that of a forest shrouded by the canopies of its trees at night--but like a suffocating blanket at all times. It seeped into every crack and every crevasse of the shoddy wooden box that Luca could call home. A lone candle helped to alleviate the encroaching blackness, cutting through the void in a gentle dance. Luca rubbed his eyes and sat up to observe his hands. Callouses swarmed them, and dirt seemed to simply grow out of his skin nowadays.

He scoffed, and stood up. 
Careful not to wake Hoss, who lay covered in what was left of a blanket on the floor, he crept over to the torn linen rag that impersonated the door, and stepped outside. The same darkness greeted him, save for the odd lantern that sat affixed to the stony wall that stretched forever in all directions. He took one last look inside at the shadowy figure of his old friend, deep in his peaceful rest, and left. 

He walked for what seemed longer than it was, as his racing mind distracted him from his arrival outside of a large, roughly built "building" of a sort. The cave ceiling seemed to sprout from the humble structure, and a low hum of chatter escaped the ancient wooden doors.
 Above was a sign.

"Seneca Royal Army Recruitment" was scrawled into the wood and painted boldly. There was neither motto nor catchy slogan, only the forthright bearer of this building's purpose.

Luca stepped inside.

What caught him off-guard first was the sudden flooding of light the room had seemingly kept at bay behind the door. He blinked hard, and shielded his eyes for a moment. A voice rang out as the murmur of a small group grew quiet.
"Come to join, son? Or just took the wrong turn?" The voice said in a raspy call. Luca's eyes finally righted themselves as he looked at the source of the voice. A man sat in a crisp blue uniform surrounded by similarly dressed figures, palms clasped finely atop a table adorned with neatly placed stationaries. His eyes were steel, but held a distinctly warm look to them as he smiled. Curls of silver fell from his chin and head alike, and a swirled moustache bounced a bit as he spoke. "Come. Have a seat."
He gestured to a spot in front of the table, and another uniformed man pulled a seat out. Hesitantly, Luca took it, and sat awkwardly before the old man. He sat a moment, formulating the words he ought to use before the man spoke first.
"You work the mines, son?" he asked, eyeing Luca's dirtied hands and equally dirty garments. 

"I did."

The man raised a curly eyebrow, and the man beside him spoke something into his ear. After the exchange, he left with the other officers through an adjacent door. The old man leaned into the table with a creak that was perhaps his seat, but more likely his bones.
"How long have you worked there?" he asked softly.
Luca stared at the floor, then his fingers, then the floor again. 
"Since I could remember.." he paused, then finally looked the man in his eye. "But I should be old enough now to fight, right?".

The man raised a hand. 
"I hadn't yet introduced myself, now have I?". He extended a perfumed hand. "Major Arnold Wesser. And you, son?"

Luca shook his hand briefly, and inhaled. "Luca. I don't have a surname." 

The major leaned deeply into his chair, and rubbed his beard. "I am impressed by your bravery. By coming here, you've already shown great resolve to your nation."
Luca merely stirred as the man stood up and strutted about the room. 

"Let it be known on this day, Luca, that today and hereafter, you shall become a real man!" His voice rose with passion as his face reddened.
 "A man who walks with pride, with honor! A man who wears his country's ambitions upon his back--and her freedom upon his hip."

Luca's gaze turned to a photo he hadn't noticed behind the Major's seat as he listened. It was of a young soldier and a girl clad in black, sat beside one another under a massive tree. Above them, the sun blazed, setting a golden glow across the painted landscape. Each gentle stroke seemed to breathe life into the piece, the light from it spilling into the room and merging with the lanterns until the whole room grew warm as the Major spoke.
He then blinked, and that painted sun stopped glowing.