Chapter 12: The Training

You are bent over a trough for domesticated animals and you can see blood and some broken teeth floating in the water. Five others are lined up next to you, just as naked as you are, but it isn’t the lack of clothes that makes you feel exposed, it’s the sheer disrespect and obvious pleasure the Empire takes in torturing you and your kinsmen.

“Today is the day of your rebirth. Rejoice, for it will be beautiful!” A young sounding man spoke like he was at a birthday party. “Today, you will become sons and daughters of the Empire and you will fight for us!”

“I will not be defined by you!” A gatherer beside you suddenly stands up and turns around but before you could hiss at them, the gatherer suddenly goes over the trough and is missing half his jaw. It took a few moments of stunned silence before the screams filled the hall. You yourself can barely hold in the bile that rises in your throat.

“That man will be the example for the rest of you. If you are not willing to embrace the Empire, then you will instead embrace suffering beyond your wildest imagination.” There was a bone chilling laugh. “But worry not, we won’t kill you. To send you to The Reaper is a blessing and we don’t believe in blessings in the Empire. You may dunk them.”

Without warning, a rough hand grabs your hair and then slams you down into the water. On the way down though, your head slams into the trough’s edge. The water must’ve been filled with salt as you feel your eyes and your wound start to burn.

Through the water, you hear the others thrashing. You even hear the high pitched screaming of the first gatherer who then gets violently slammed into the trough, hard enough that the water starts shaking. You take the opportunity as some water falls below your chin and you sip at the air, scared of being too greedy.

Minutes, or perhaps seconds, tick by, and you can feel your lungs begging for some kind of reprieve, but your head is still held down. You can only scrunch your eyes and count your blessings, even focusing on the pain from your head so as to distract you from the lack of oxygen.

The sounds of thrashing and muffled screaming slowly eased up and you could feel the weight of your heart getting heavier and heavier, like an abandoned cannonball. And right before you are about to give in, to just accept that endless sleep might be a better option than to suffer anymore, your head gets yanked up and your lungs awaken with new vigor.

The hand drops you and you’re left shaking on the floor as you try desperately to bring oxygen back into your body. The blood that drips down your face pales in comparison to the suffering you were just put through and as you weakly look upwards, you see a smiling young man looking down at you.

“Congratulations, son of the Empire. You’ve been the only one chosen.” He then turns to someone out of your sight. “Give him clothes and then bring him to his division.”

The next few moments are a blur. Your eyeballs ached from the salt and your body did not cooperate in whatever way you wanted because of the lack of oxygen. Instead you were dragged by your feet across rough stones.

Exhaustion overtakes you after you have been constantly fighting it. All it takes is a blink. You blink again and then you get up, confused and rested for some reason. You find that rough maroon clothes had been put on you while you were out. On top of that, you appear to be in a military barracks, though much more worn down. The beds looked like they'd been made out of scrap wood, and the walls, scrap metal.

“Hey, he’s up.” A whisper catches your attention and you look to see who it is. A pair of what look to be hunters based on their physique. One of them comes over. “Hey, you’re probably confused and tired right now. We’ll start with our names, how’s that?”

You simply nod. The world feels just a bit too heavy for anything else right now.

“Good. My name is Nae of the Hunters. I’m from the Eternal Searchers.” The hunter stretches out their hand which you accept. “What’s yours?”

“I greet you Nae of the Hunters, my name is Yex of the Hunters. I am a Guardian of the Cycle.” You say wearily, your throat is still a bit sore from earlier. “Where are we?”

“This is the Empire’s Division Three Six. We’re their soldiers.” Nae said matter of factly. You immediately become wary of them. “Supposedly we’re going to be trained before getting sent to the front lines, so I’ve heard.”

“Trained.”

“How to fight, I guess.” Nae pantomimes a sword. “It’ll be very different from knives, spears, and bows.”

You stay quiet, unsure of what to do or what to say. Then you remember that there is another person in the room. “Is it just us three or is there more?”

“There are more, but we were told to watch over you and then bring you to the training yard after you wake up.” Nae explains without an ounce of any burden. Your suspicions only grow but you decide not to voice them.

“So we should do our job, Nae.” The other hunter spoke out, their voice a nice baritone.

“Relax Cil.” Nae tutted before turning back to me with a conspiratorial smile. “Cil’s always been the impatient type. He never really made for the best hunter.”

You fall silent for a little bit. “Maybe we should go to the training yard.”

“Oh alright. Let’s go to the boring training yard.”

Nae takes point as they lead you out of the shabby longhouse they were in. The skies looked very different without a canopy, a lot more muted than what you are used to. You follow as Nae describes how their batch was shown around the first time. It all sounded very well and good, but your distrust sparks into complete disillusionment about Nae and their character.

Thinking that there might be a chance, you turn to the quiet Cil next to you. “I greet you Cil. Can I ask for your opinion on coming here?”

“No.”

“Okay. Fair enough.” That ultimately led to nothing.

“Alright, we made it. The training yard.” Nae stuck out their arms in a very showmanship with a grin to prove it, but this time, you recognize that smile was very much fake. It eases your tensions just a little bit.

You look onward to see what the training yard was actually about and your mouth drops. The yard consisted of three different courses, each featuring their own sets of jungle gyms, sword and archery fighting, race tracks, and all sorts of different ways of physical training. What was the most horrifying thing though were the bodies that just lay by the obstacles like they were a part of the obstacles themselves. Many of the bodies had recognizable tribal physiques and you can’t help but feel sick. From the corner of your eye, you see a small sympathetic glance from Nae, but it quickly disappears.

“General Chief, the new recruit for the Three Six, sir.” Nae’s mannerisms changed at the drop of a hat, you can’t help but be shocked.

“Good work, son.” The General Chief, very much so an Empire soldier, marches over to you. You find your back straightening and your heart racing with every step he takes. “Son. You are to run the gauntlet five times for missing practice. I expect great things from you, but if you aren’t willing to accept your new reality, you can join your worthless brethren as a decorative corpse. Say ‘yes sir’ if you understand, son.”

“Yes sir.” You bite out.

“Acceptable. Now run.” It wasn’t a passionate command, it was a command that spoke to your very soul and aimed to freeze the entire ocean over.

You run. What else is there to do? The first obstacle looks like a mock up of a castle wall and a broken siege tower beside it. Without thinking, you bound up the splintered wood like a gazelle and easily slip over the castle wall. The problem however was that once you had hopped over, there was no ledge for you to stand on. A shriek tears at your lungs as you plummet straight down.

Right before you hit the ground and would’ve probably broken some bones, a person jumped up almost parallel to your falling resulting in a more or less controlled landing. It was still rough though and the two of you fall over one another, but the damage was minimal.

You groan as you try to pull yourself up. An outstretched hand enters your field of view which you accept gratefully. The person who saved you looked to have a gatherer physique and held themselves just so. Their features were fine if not haunted, but funnily enough, it's the haunted look that brings you ease as it says that there are still kinsmen among the battle slaves.

“I greet you and offer my deepest gratitude. Please accept them.” You follow the tradition of your people as a courtesy of respect despite your obvious exhaustion and pain. “My name is Yex of the Hunters, Guardian of the Cycle.”

“I greet and accept you, Yex of the Hunters.” The gatherer breaks into a run after beckoning you to follow. “To stand still for too long is to suffer punishment. To answer your greeting, I respond in kind. My name is Ueri of the Gatherers, a Peace Guide.”

“How long have you been here?” You ask, almost scared of the implications. Up ahead though begins the second obstacle, what looked to be a moat of quicksand. There appeared to be a solution in the form of a bridge made out of bodies that someone had already set up, morbid as it was.

“To count the days is to lose yourself to madness.” Ueri with tact and grace merely leapt over the entire moat. The gatherer then came to a stop and offered a quick prayer to the corpse bridge.

Inspired, you follow in their footsteps and put some Will into your jump and you sail over with somewhat ease. The two of you continue running. “Do you know what’s wrong with Nae and Cil? I met them earlier.”

“They’re both Eternal Searchers.” Ueri spat out the tribe's name like they had just eaten rotten meat. “They’re the ones who sold out the forest and the tribes. They are the reasons why we are slaves. There’s nothing wrong with them besides their Will to know every single thing there is to know about everything. What absolute filth.”

“They did this, all of this?” The next obstacle isn’t even worth mentioning. Your Will and your righteous fury embraced each other in harmony and the second mock castle wall fell under your grief and rage.

Ueri quietly picked a way through the rubble before coming to stand beside you. You can only breathe heavily and stare at your shredded knuckles. “Yes, but there is nothing we can do about it unless we want more death and despair. One often thinks that there is a lowest point to sorrow, it is only after the third lowest point that I believe that misery is endless and bountiful for everyone. Tell me a solution Yex of the Hunters and I will follow you to the end of the known world, until then, I see no Peace to Guide others to.”