Royal Constabulary University

Havoc’s office is on the third floor in a stout brick building, which means more stairs than Mika would prefer with his newly disinfected wounds. When they finally reach the top, Mika almost sighs in relief. They take the first door to the left, revealing an expansive office with two armchairs, a table and a desk at the far end of the room. The walls are covered with bookshelves filled to the brim with books and paperwork.

Mika whistles at the sight.

“Bit excessive innit?”

“What, the size?”

“That too, but I was referring to your library.”

Havoc looks at the books like it’s the first time he’s seen them, which baffles Mika because how could you possibly miss them?

“S’pose”, Havoc answers noncommittally and continues walking to his desk.

He gestures to the chair in front of it and Mika considers standing to be an arse, but refrains. Would be a bit hypocritical after their recent conversation. A sigh escapes the captain when he sinks into his desk chair with intricate mechanisms that bend around his body as he moves. Mika hasn’t seen a chair like that before, what an exciting life rich people must lead.

A thud snaps Mika out of his reverie, focusing on the book and assortment of papers that the captain tossed on the desk between them.

“Let’s get this over with”, Havoc decides.

Most of it is predictably boring: date of birth, parentage, address, prior education. Mika gives an address downtown, and after some needling Havoc agrees that the front is necessary to protect the anonymity of the orphanage. The most problematic obstacle is the question of his lack of theoretical proficiency.

“You talked big in the courtyard, but I’m not certain you understand how difficult the entrance exam to the Special Corps is”, Havoc states with a frown, peering down at the paperwork.

“Well, I reckon I won’t know until I try”, Mika counters. Havoc looks at him with incredulity. “Look, my homeschooling at the orphanage is laughable, I’m aware, but I’m nothing if not crafty. Maybe my gaps in knowledge aren’t so dramatic. If I take the test, we’ll know what I know and don’t know.”

Sceptical eyes turn thoughtful as Havoc considers Mika’s suggestion.

“Alright, I reckon there’s no risk of crushing your spirit, so what’s the harm?” he eventually relents. “I will ask Sergeant Mills to administer one for you tomorrow and we’ll take it from there.”

“Joy.”

“Your idea, cadet.”

Eventually the papers are signed and Havoc can add Mika’s name to the book of enlisted cadets. A sense of finality descends on him when he sees his name among all the others. Nobility and scholars coming together with the gifted and brave, year after year, protecting the cushioned life of downtowners and uptowners from the horrid street rats.

Well lo and behold, a stowaway has come to spread the plague.

“Breakfast is at six and training starts at seven”, Havoc says suddenly and Mika’s eyes snap up to him. “I will ask one of the cadets to escort you around the premises and show you the ropes, they should be done with duel practice right about now.”

“It’s only noon.”

“Half days on Saturdays”, Havoc explains. “Rest of the day is up to everyone’s discretion.”

“I’m sure the poor chap who will escort me will be thrilled to spend their free afternoon babysitting the newbie”, Mika remarks snidely.

“Pretend to be decent and you’ll be fine”, Havoc dismisses and rises from the flexible chair. “Up we go.”

An uncomfortable number of eyes turn to stare at him when Havoc opens the door to the cadets’ barracks. They look newly showered and are in different stages of disrobement, which causes Mika to politely fixate on the fascinating wall opposing him.

“Collins!” Havoc barks, causing a freckled cadet to hop to attention. “You’re in charge of cadet Doe. Give him the grand tour and make sure he doesn’t get into more trouble.”

“Yes sir!”

“And cadet”, Havoc continues, fixing Mika with a hard stare, “do try to not upset the tides more than you have today.”

“Understood, Captain Havoc”, Mika smoothly replies. Havoc simply raises a doubtful eyebrow before making a swift exit. Splendid, now he’s alone with the wolves.

Or, well, not all of them actually give off waves of hostility. The freckled cadet for example is rushing over with a careful yet friendly smile while extending his hand.

“Welcome to the Special Corps program, Doe”, he chirps. Mika doesn’t recognise him from earlier, he must’ve been one of the cadets that didn’t step forward to challenge him.

“Thanks, sorry that I crashed your drills earlier”, he replies and shortly shakes his hand, still a bit cautious in case this is all an act. But the handshake is warm and firm, and Collins’ eyes glitter with mirth at his apology.

“No, that was the best thing that has happened to me since I entered university”, he says with such genuinity that it startles a laugh out of Mika. “You were bloody spectacular! I can’t believe you got away with assaulting and insulting Captain Havoc though, I think I peed my pants when he chewed us out for duelling you.”

Mika is a bit taken aback by his excitement. Surely, no one who manages to claw their way into this specialised program can be that carefree about a stranger in rags wreaking havoc on the training grounds. Judging by the condescending grunt behind Collins, he undeniably seems to be in the minority with his opinion.

“Honestly Collins, how did a starry-eyed kid like you get the idea to become a constable?” Mika lights up at the sounds of the familiar voice.

“Carrot face, long time no see! Has your arse recovered from the throw down earlier?”

Someone snorts inelegantly at that and Carrot face glowers in response.

“Oh gods, don’t start”, a girl exclaims. “I’m exhausted after Sergeant Dock’s bloody laps.” She suddenly snaps her gaze up to Mika and points at him in warning. “I blame you for that particular punishment by the way, so take some responsibility and quit riling Cooper up.”

“I’m not a child, Elton”, Carrot face grumbles.

“Then stop acting like one”, Elton huffs and slams her locker shut.

“I will follow your example of emotional maturity, cadet Elton”, Mika quips.

“Good”, she replies simply, then suddenly frowns as the words sink in. “Oi, no sarcasm you git!”

“Alright, why don’t I get you in uniform”, Collins suddenly exclaims, taking Mika by the shoulders and leading him outside. Mika manages to poke his tongue out before being escorted away and hears the Elton girl squawk in disbelief. “You really have a talent for stirring up trouble, Doe. Oh bugger, Captain is gonna kill me before the day ends.”

“Why? If I do something daft, it’s on me, right?”

“Captain Havoc left you in my care, so unfortunately not.” Collins sighs in defeat while leading them to yet another building in the university ground. Mika doesn’t have a stellar sense of direction, but it was good enough to survive on the streets. This day however has given him a run for his money. Did they have a separate building for everything?!

“Don’t worry, even I have some self-preservation”, Mika says, causing Collins to eye him dubiously. “Don’t give me that look, I’m serious. I’ll try to be on my best behaviour, lest my favourite cadet of the day will be punished for my boundless wit.”

Collins doesn’t look fully convinced but drops the subject.

After that, the grand tour begins in earnest. 

Mika receives two cadet uniforms that he will alternate between during his entire two years in the Special Corps. Collins explains that all cadets are responsible for cleaning and mending their respective uniforms, and that it is very rare to be granted new ones in case of tearing or other damage. “Hope you know how to sew, ‘cause otherwise you’ll look like a beggar in rags at the end of the semester!” Mika raises his eyebrow before looking meaningfully at his own ragged clothes. Collins colours and has the decency to look embarrassed by his thoughtless comment before quickly moving on to point him to a changing room. Mika’s weapons were confiscated by Havoc before heading to the barracks, a dick move in Mika’s humble opinion, and he made it quite clear that the weapon concealing pants were to meet the same fate. Mika considers sneaking the pants with him in the backpack that he was also provided, but the lady who gave him the uniforms patiently asks for them when he’s done changing. Oh well, it was worth a try.

Collins takes him around their part of campus while explaining the general set up of the university. The Royal Constabulary University is the size of a minor village. It trains constaples through the General Constabulary Program, a five year education that spits out fresh-faced recruits every year, or the Shortened Constabulary Program, where students who went to a military oriented secondary school can shortcut their way into the Royal Constabulary.

“Cooper, for example, graduated from the shortened program!”

“You mean Carrot face?”

“Why do you call him Carrot face anyway? His hair isn’t even orange.”

“Doesn’t have to be for his face to look like a carrot.”

Collins, once again, doesn’t look fully convinced. Sheesh, tough crowd.

Anyways, since the university not only houses cadets from the General Constabulary Program but also the cadets who go on to specialise in a certain field, like Special Corps, there’s buildings bloody everywhere to accommodate them all. Not to mention the expansive training grounds for the different sets of cadets. To top it off, professors and training instructors all have their offices on campus, and apparently high ranking constables gather here frequently for meetings.

“This is making my head spin”, Mika complains, trying to memorise the way to the training grounds from the barracks while Collins leads him to the armoury.

“It’s alright mate, the gist of it is that campus is enormous and that as long as you stick to the west side, you’re good!”

“That reminds me, you lot seemed surprised I managed to get here when I interrupted your beloved drills.”

“Well, since the university opened for sign-ups, they upped security for the day. Lots of sensitive documents and important people lying about so they wanted to limit mobility”, Collins explains distractedly, unlocking the shed that contains equipment for sparring. “Here’s our gear. The swords are specially made for drills, with blunt edges and retractable blades.”

“Seriously, that was your fortified security? Your little corner is about as well guarded as- wait, the blades are what now?”

“Retractable. If you stab someone directly, it goes into the hilt to avoid causing internal damage. Here, I’ll show you.” Collins picks up a sword and swiftly drives it into the ground. Instead of shaking against the stone floor, the hilt seemingly slides down along the sword. Not smoothly however, it actually looks rather resistant to the motion, like when you’re assembling furniture incorrectly and the pieces are fighting against your every move. “Isn’t it wicked?”

Mika can feel the excitement leaking into his face, though he tries to reel it in.

“Can I try?”

They spend some time playing around with the equipment. Mika isn’t too impressed with the retractable blades, seems like they can cause plenty of damage with the resistant heavy hilt, but Collins explains that the sword would be too finicky if it was more sensitive. The boots, however, intrigue him greatly. They’re a remnant from the civilisation that lived in Serith generations ago. Collins calls them the ancients, but on the street they’re colloquially known as the tech wizes, since they left behind artefacts and inventions that no one has been able to replicate. One nifty invention is the magnetic plates all over the buildings in the city. They’re barely visible to the naked eye, but if you put on these magnetic boots, the plates light up and the person wearing them can walk on the walls.

Mika thinks the armoury might be his new favourite place.

“I have armoury duty this Sunday so I happen to have the key, but otherwise you’ll have to get special permission from Sergeant Doyle to use the equipment outside of training hours.”

“Yes sir”, Mika says absentmindedly while eyeing an armguard that doubles as a brass knuckle with a hidden knife. “Crikey, this looks like it belongs in the black market.”

“Hey, are you listening to me?”

After Collins drags Mika out by the arm - which Mika finds excessive, who knew the meek cadet could be such a brute - they move on to the building where Havoc’s office is. Apparently, the first floor consists of classrooms for the theoretical classes. Mika wonders aloud if this is where he’ll be taking his theory test tomorrow, which has Collins gaping at him.

“Your entrance exam is tomorrow?”

Mika wrinkles his nose.

“I don’t know the fancy term for it, but I suppose so.”

“Blimey, good luck mate. I would rather die than doing that exam again.” He looks slightly green just thinking about it, and Mika only snorts in response.

“It’s just an exam, I’m not worried.”

Collins looks bewildered by this.

“Have you studied for it?”

“No.”

“Oh, did you go to a military oriented secondary school?”

“Nope.”

“Are your parents constables?”

“Negative, mate.”

“Oh my gods, you’re going to fail”, Collins whispers despairingly.

“Then I’ll just do it again after some studying, no big deal.”

“Don’t let the other cadets hear you say that, their jealousy is gonna make their brains leak out of their ears.” Mika grins, which only seems to further Collins’ despair. “I know what you’re thinking, but you promised me! Best behaviour!”

“No idea what you’re on about”, Mika replies sweetly. Collins whines.

Last stop of the day is the dining hall. Collins is in the middle of reciting their weekly schedule when Mika stops in his tracks.

“Shite”, Mika groans.

“What is it?”

“Look, I’m not that financially stable at the moment. I can bring food in from outside, right?”

Collins blinks at him, then smiles kindly.

“The food here is free, don’t worry about it.” He pats Mika’s shoulder then continues rambling about Thursday afternoon classes.

“Wait”, Mika interrupts. “What do you mean it’s free? Like you get free bread?”

“No”, Collins explains patiently, like he’s talking to a young child. “Three meals a day, free of charge. Weekends included, since our time off is usually filled with chores, self-studies or informal sparring sessions.”

Mika is pretty sure his ears are ringing. Free food? Three times a day? That… is wicked. In more ways than one.

“How is that even possible?”

“Oh! Well, most universities with dormitories offer free food. Additionally, the Royal Constabulary, and by extension this university, is funded by taxpayers, making it one of the few free university educations. Besides, there’s always a demand for more constables, so the Royal Family has endeavoured to make it as attractive and accessible for people as possible.” Collins scratches his head and gives him a sympathetic smile. “Your entrance exam is gonna be hell if you don’t even know that.”

Mika replies by punching him in the arm, causing Collins to yelp from surprise, but his mind is still reeling from the fact that he, for the first time in his entire life, is gonna have steady access to food. How does Collins not realise how earth shattering that is? Mika wants to shake him.

“Mention my entrance exam one more time and I’ll show you just how good my best behaviour is”, he threatens instead. He has a cover to uphold after all, and that doesn’t include a past consisting of continuous exposure to starvation.

“I… can’t tell in what way that is a threat”, Collins mutters, stroking his arm tenderly like an actual child. “I’d actually like that very much.” Mika answers with a wicked grin and Collins raises his hands in alarm. “Or not! Please don’t hurt me, I have a family.”

Mika just laughs and ruffles Collins’ hair. “Well why didn’t you say so Collins? Spares me the trouble of finding out who to send a ransom note to.”

Mika continues teasing him all the way back to the barracks. When he opts to ruffle his hair again, Collins pouts and swats his hand away. 

“I’m pretty sure I have ten years on you, Doe, knock it off with the teasing.”

“I’m nineteen, so I doubt it.”

“Nineteen?!” another voice screams out. It’s one of the cadets from their division, about to head into their dorm. Mika recognises him. He had been strong and self-assured in the fight, and had looked more confused than angry after his defeat. Now he’s gaping at him like a moron.

“Bloody hell, yes, nineteen. Thank the heavens above you’re not deaf upon your ineptitude in sword fighting.”

The cadet responds by barking a laughter that echoes in the corridor.

“Geez, you’re a cheeky one, aren’t ya? Name’s Blaise Adams”, he says, offering his hand. Mika frowns but shakes it.

“Mika Doe, as of three hours ago.”

“Charmed.” Adams winks at him before letting go and entering their dorm, throwing the door wide open. “Hey Cooper, congrats, you’re no longer the duckling of our division!”

“What are you on abo- oh great, he’s back.” Carrot face is sitting on his bed, polishing his boots. No one else is in the room, no doubt enjoying their leisure. It’s now that Mika notices that there are only four bunk beds in the room.

“I thought the Special Corps took in fifteen cadets”, Mika muses.

“Each dorm houses eight cadets, so we’re split”, Collins supplies, going to the row of lockers. “We have a spare bunk here so you’ll be sleeping with us.”

“Not a chance”, Mika says at the same time as Cooper. They glare at each other with equal amounts of disdain.

“Well look at you two, finally agreeing about something”, Adams coos. Cooper hisses at him, which only makes another barking laughter erupt from Adams’ whole body. “What are you, a cat?”

“You’ll be bunking with me Doe, you don’t have to worry”, Collins says soothingly, which only serves to irritate Mika further.

“Me, sleeping with a bunch of overgrown children who stink of money and bigotry? Not a fucking chance.” Mika looks at Cooper for that last bit, a harsh smile playing on his lips. “I'm not a sewer rat by the way, as you so eloquently put it.”

“Oh yeah? Then why in bloody hell did you look like one?”

“I don’t know, ask my parents”, Mika snarls, stalking over to the empty locker that Collins has opened for him. “They’re just a walk away, I’ll give you the address.” He throws his backpack in and slams the door shut.

“You’re from downtown?” Collins asks incredulously. When Mika turns his derisive stare to him, he raises his hands placatingly for the second time this day. “Sorry! I just, um, assumed you were from the same crowd as the people enrolling in Open Training.”

“That would be embarrassing for you”, Mika sneers. “What would the public say if a sewer rat made all the promising Special Corps recruits eat grass?”

Collins laughs awkwardly while Cooper scoffs. Adams, however, frowns.

“Damn, I was excited for the public outcry that would follow, but I guess you’re just a talented prat with rubbish parents.”

“Truly a travesty”, Mika says drily.

“Now that I think about it, you do use a lot of fancy words”, Collins hums. “But why did you say you would go back to the slums if you lost the fight to the captain?”

“If I didn’t get in here, that was my next stop”, Mika shrugs.

“You arrogant piece of shit”, Cooper bites out. “Why not join the regular program instead?”

Mika fixes him with a hard gaze. “What’s it to you, Carrot face? You wanna know my backstory? Share our deepest darkest secrets while braiding each other’s hair?”

“Dinner time!” A clear voice rings out, belonging to the Elton girl from earlier. She has pearls of sweat on her forehead and her clean, casual clothes from earlier are riddled with dusty stains of dirt. “We missed you at the sparring Cooper, what have you been- why do you look like a tomato?”

Cooper's face has indeed turned a nice shade of crimson from anger. Collins gasps.

“Oh I understand now! You do become slightly orange when you blush, Cooper!”

Mika smirks and shrugs cockily.

“What did I say? Carrot blush, carrot face.”

Cooper throws his well polished boot at him, and when Mika easily sidesteps it, he lets out a loud groan and drags his hand across his face.

“I’m in hell. I’ve died and a demon is torturing me in hell.”

“Okay”, Elton whistles. “Whenever you’re done with your existential pondering, dinner is waiting.” She turns to face Mika with a sunny grin. Seems like sparring cheered her up considerably, which is strange considering she looked exhausted from the alleged running, but to each their own. “Coming greenie?”

“Apparently I go by demon now”, Mika quips. Cooper grumbles and Adams barks another laughter.