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The Flames of Thotus: Dreams

2. For Glory, With Dignity

Termus awoke to be greeted with a dull rain and grey skies, but he welcomed it as he thanked the gods that he didn't dream. Today would definitely be a good day. He sat up in his bed and threw the wool blanket off himself. The patter of rain sounded against the window shutters.

He hadn’t done any studying or preparation for his final exams today. He hadn’t cared to, to be honest. He had filled the hours of most nights that weren't spent sleeping on studying and felt that for today, he needed as much sleep as he could get. It wasn’t the exams and testing he was after, but the chance to prove himself. No matter how rigorous or tiring the fighting was, day in and day out at the academy, he always loved every minute of it. He breathed it. Lived it.

__________

The large, towering gates of the academy slowly opened as the guards beckoned them inward. Termus had thrown on his black robes, satchel swung over his shoulder and walked in. Gnove was by his side, looking less prepared than ever for the exams. His black hair was twisted in all different directions and the bags under his eyes didn’t hide the fact that he was up all night in the alchemy garden. Yet here he was, tired-eyed and about to take an exam that would lead them both down the path of no return. They were about to become officers.

Termus nervously bit the inside of his cheek. He was given absolutely nothing about the details or content of this exam. For all he knows, he could be writing a ten page essay with quill and parchment about the Legion military structure or Nagerian strategy. He hadn’t a clue. What he did know, however, was that he was asked to make sure he was in his black robes and to be prepared for the most rigorous test of their life.

Gnove didn’t say a word the whole walk to the stone classroom door. He's probably too tired, Termus thought. He meekly glanced over at his brother and realized that Gnove looked just as confused and nervous as he was. At least he wasn’t the only one. They’d walk into the room bearing this burden together. So, they did.

The classroom was dingy, dark and stone-walled. Old Man Cram, as Dunham called him, was standing at the head of the classroom, hands behind his back, shoulders puffed out like a proper officer. He was still in full plated armor, sword hanging in its sheath, golden cloak proudly draped over his shoulders. He scanned the door as the boys walked in slowly. Termus quickly shifted his gaze away from the front of the classroom to his peers. A sea of black robes and confused expressions, Termus felt better knowing that he wasn’t the only one about to shit his pants. He took his seat toward the back, as far away from Cram as he could. Gnove slid into the chair next to him and sat quietly, not lifting his eyes from the desk in front of him. Termus scanned the room, looking for Dunham. Surely, he wouldn’t miss the test, would he?

There was an eerie silence that filled the room. Aside from a student clearing her throat and the shuffling of a chair, the dull repetition of the rain was the only thing that made a sound. The taste of damp musk stuck in his mouth as he wetted his lips to try and remove it. The minutes felt like hours. Was it almost time? It should have started by now.

A voice gnashed through the silence, straightening the student’s backs and turning their heads toward the front of the classroom. “Welcome to your personal hell.”

Termus and Gnove both looked up at Cram, daring not to say anything. “I know you all came in here today expecting an exam. Well, you all expected WRONG. Today, we will be finishing up your Officer training a little different. We have all been watching you closely and studying your habits and skills, your strengths and your weaknesses. And we’ve determined that none of ya need any further testing.”

He held out a long piece of parchment that unrolled from his hand. “Here in my hand is a list. A very simple list of all your sorry names. Next to all your names, is one simple letter. Either an ‘L’ or an ‘S.’ Now you may be asking yourself what does this letter mean. You can expect that most of ya have an ‘L’ next to your name. Well, for those of ya that aren’t the of quickest minds, the ‘L’ means you leave. You get your sorry arses out of these seats and out of my academy. You will wait until the list is finished being read before you take your leave. You then go home and continue your training at the academy next year. For the few of your that don’t have the ‘L’ next to your name, I would assume you all can guess what that means.”

Termus didn’t know what to think. He had come in here expecting to have his mind put to the test, yet he had already been graded? Has the entire academic year been one large final exam?

“Now don’t go skipping for joy if you DO have an ‘S’ next to your name. Just because you stay, doesn’t mean your work is done. No, there will be no exam testing your skills, but maybe even more important than that is that you get to learn the truth and play a crucial role in the upcoming mission. You will learn what it truly means to be officers of the Great Handilian Province and what real sacrifice is.”

Cram paused, as if he was expecting the quiet hush of murmurs to fill the room. He was right. The mumblings of potential graduates echoed against the stone. Students turned to students, leaning toward one another and whispering. Termus didn’t know how to feel. He thought he had been learning what it meant to be an officer this whole time. What had all this training, this studying, the late nights at Frank’s house and the tired mornings that followed been for?

Termus heard a whisper in his ear. “What’s going to happen to me?” Gnove said with a slight quake in his voice. “If Cram is the one deciding...well, we all know exactly what he thinks of me.”

Termus could feel his brother’s fear. He has a point. Gnove had never been directly on Cram’s list of the most hated students but nothing’s to say after what happened yesterday that he couldn’t have easily been thrown into the list of students that won't make the cut this year.

Termus had wanted nothing more than to graduate with his brother. He had always thought of Gnove as the one person above all he needed to protect, to keep safe. He had always tried to make sure that they stayed by each other’s side as much as possible. Growing up in the orphanage was tough on the both of them. Gnove was never truly able to defend himself from the kids who spat on him, who attacked him for spending his free time with plants instead of real people. He’d always been small. They may not have been real brothers by blood, but sticking together was the only way that Termus knew how to keep him safe. And yet here he was, possibly becoming an officer, heading out to travel the province, fighting in wars. And here Gnove would stay, studying plants and getting attacked whenever he went home alone.

“Dontas, leave.” Termus didn’t even want to look up. He just stared down at his polished desk waiting to hear his brother’s name. “Styke, leave. Ashata, leave. Karangru, stay. Droko, leave…”

One by one the names were called out. Duncan, Cheryl, Corbin, Ven. He wasn’t even listening for his own name. He didn’t care. How were there that many students in the classroom? It was just too many names. Names of people he’s never met, some names he’s never even heard of. No faces, just their names and their value as officers. Such a black and white picture it painted.

“Varine, stay. Bessie, leave. Dunham stay. Volund, leave.” Termus’ ears latched onto his childhood friend’s name and his mind paused. He did it…he finally graduated.

Then he heard his own name. “Termus…”

He knew Cram didn’t skip a beat but it felt like minutes before he called out “Stay.”

He felt a fleeting wave of relief wash over him and disappear as he gulped so loudly, he thought the whole classroom would hear him. He was now officially an officer, he thought as the names kept droning in his ear.

Cram’s voice seemed to be getting louder as the list of students neared its end. “Axis, leave. Brienna, leave. Gnove…”

__________

The rain had all but stopped by the time Termus was outside again. The thick muck of air surrounding the academy filled his nose with the scent of damp grass and mud. He had met up with Dunham after the final meeting for the new recruits was over. They sat together on a bench outside the academy. Dunham was always sharing his excitement, but today was especially so. Termus noticed a grin on Dunham’s face that he just couldn’t wipe clean. He was happy for him, finally graduating from the academy after three years of trying.

“Ye know, me father is going to shit em’self once he hears about me. Officer Dunham, they’ll call me!”

“I’m happy for you,” Termus said. “We’ll be a force to be reckoned with, I’ll tell you that much.” He tried to fake a smile but it must have been horrible because even Dunham noticed it.

“Ye know, Old Man Cram couldn’t have been serious about the things he was saying in there. Don’t take it like a stick up your arse. He just likes to scare the new bloods.”

Termus wasn’t convinced. Cram had already gotten rid of his ‘failures.’ It was supposed to be a serious insight into the real duties and responsibilities of an officer. The things he said in there couldn’t have been true, could they?

He spotted Gnove walking slowly toward them from the outer gates. Termus’ heart sank. “I’m worried about Gnove, Dunham.”

“There’s nuttin to be worryin’ about. Gnove can handle em’self well enough.”

Gnove staggered over, his head hung low, eyes to the ground and he knew something was bothering him. He could just feel it in his bones when Gnove sloppily plopped himself on the bench next to Termus. Dunham didn’t say a word.

“I can’t believe it,” Gnove mumbled. Termus didn’t say anything, but kept his eyes fixated on his brother’s sunken head.

Suddenly, he threw his hands up into the air, open-palmed and yelled loudly. “I’M AN OFFICER.” A few students that were walking the other way turned their heads for a moment to see what happened.

Termus tilted his own head in disbelief. Wait, that’s all he’s concerned with?

Dunham bellowed out laughing and patted him heavily on the back. “That ye are, me friend.”

Termus wished he could have clenched his fists in anger, but he restrained himself and calmed his thoughts. He didn’t want to yell at either of them. He was happy for all three of them. He truly was. But had none of them heard what was discussed in the meeting? Had they just skipped over the fact that they all now know what this academy and its training is truly for? Or the fact that they everyone’s lives were threatened if they told a soul?

“You two know what it means, now that we’re officers, right?” Termus said.

Gnove grabbed his arm and shook it excitedly. “It means that we can finally head to the battlefield and prove ourselves as soldiers. Warriors, they’ll call us. Heroes in white cloaks, going where the fighting’s the thickest.”

Dunham laughed. “I don’t have to prove meself to this commander or that. I got a reputation to uphold. And I do it all for the ladies.”

Let them have their fun, Termus kept telling himself. The excitement will wear off eventually. Mustn’t punch them. He stood up and hoisted his satchel back over his shoulder.

“I’m proud of you, Gnove. You definitely earned your officer status,” he said, trying desperately not to lecture his brother. He looked so excited, Termus didn’t want to put a damper on his fun just yet. He knew Dunham could handle himself just fine but now more than ever, he felt that ever-present desire to protect his orphan brother. He swallowed his words of wisdom, leaving behind a bad taste in his mouth.

“They don’t waste any time, though,” Termus said. “I can’t believe that Cram wants all of the graduates to come back tomorrow morning for our briefing.”

“Must be important,” Dunham said, surprisingly serious. “Word is, they plannin’ an attack on Nagire soon and they want everyone to be there. All the new bloods, the officers, the regular soldiers, even the Councilor’s from what I’m hearin’.”

“Where did you hear that?” Termus said.

“The training pits. I was polishing me armor in the lavvy room when I overlistened to some officers yelling about it outside.”

Gnove laughed. “You over-HEARD it.”

Dunham looked at him confused. “That’s what I said.” Termus snickered and Dunham brashly cleared his throat. “As I was sayin’, they was talking about making sure they had the preparations ready. Said it was supposed to be the largest attack that there ever was.”

Termus felt his heart sink a mile at the realization that he’d be bringing his brother and him to something that dangerous already. There was something utterly terrifying to him about the thought of throwing his brother into battle. They had only just graduated. Neither of them have seen a proper fight, aside from the scraps they used to get in while fighting off the other orphans. But those were nothing. This was real. This was actual war. Not playing, not sparring, not reading about it in this book or that book. This was life or death.

And what if I have a Cold Day, he thought. I won't be able to protect anyone if that happens...

Termus had always been thankful to Frank. He had brought them into his home, cared for them, loved them like a real father would. He knew he had been saved by Frank. And he knew Gnove had as well. He never questioned him and every decision Frank made for them, he always assumed it was in their best interest. That’s why when Frank told them he enlisted them in a military academy for the Legion, he didn’t question it. He embraced it in the hope that one day, they could make something of themselves. Two orphan boys rising up to the rank of officer. Such a poetic story.

He had one day thought to repay Frank for his kindness, and what better way to do that than to succeeded at becoming officers in Frank’s own army and stand side by side, accomplishing great things for the good of the province? But Termus had never had much thought for consequences. In his seventeen years, he hadn’t much room to think about the what-ifs. What boy of his age usually does anyway? But now, the what-ifs started pouring into his head, a million scenarios playing out in his young mind.

A robust voice washed away the scenarios. “Welp, I’m heading home. My mum wasn’t looking so good this morn before I left.”

Gnove stood. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not quite sure. She was fine until she opened the daily mail and unrolled a piece of parchment. Then she got this horrified look about her as she was readin’ it. I tried askin’ what was wrong but she just told me to come to school and we would talk later.”

Termus noticed an uneasiness in his voice that he hadn't heard before. It worried him. “Dunham,” he said.

“Aye…?”

“Take care of yourself, alright?”

“You too, me friend. See both of ya tomorrow,” he said, slowly turning and lumbering down the cobblestone.

“I wonder what that’s all about…” Gnove said.

He and Gnove turned the opposite direction and started walking, the sun still high in the sky.

__________

A long table sat in the middle of the room, sun beaming in from the windows against its polished wood. Termus had never been in this room of the academy. Eight giant white banners sat against the walls, a large sigil in the center of each one, a man’s head side faced, attempting to eat a golden apple.

Termus remembered asking Frank about what the apple symbolized. ‘Truth and knowledge,’ he would tell him. ‘And do you know how the Legion obtains this truth and knowledge?’ Termus remembers shaking his head back and forth. Frank would lean in and look at him sternly. ‘With glory and dignity. Don’t ever forget that.’

The boys stood in a line against the wall with the other new officers, still dressed in yet another pair of black robes. He remembers Gnove complaining this morning about how they haven’t gotten their official cloaks yet. They still had to walk about the academy wearing rags, as he called them. In truth, they were made of a fine silk, light enough to allow the skin to breathe yet durable enough that one set could last them through the three years they attended.

The room was empty, save for Officer Cram standing at the opposite end of the table, scanning his eyes over every new recruit, silently judging them. The door swung open and in walked five white figures, carrying themselves gracefully through the room. They passed by the recruits without giving even a glance to any of them, their long white robes dancing along the ground. Each of them had a light grey hood that covered their head and painted their faces with shadow.

Cram suddenly straightened his back, puffed his chest and crossed both arms across it in the shape of an X. He bowed his head. “Councilors,” he said. Termus followed suit as he was trained to do, repeating Cram’s movements alongside his fellow officers, uttering "Councilors."

The Councilors all picked a chair, leaving the one at the rear for Cram. Standing against the table, they all removed their hoods in unison. Termus looked up to see Frank’s white hair and beard appear out from under one of the cloaks. In fact, they were all white or grey haired. Three of them men, two of them women, but all five wrinkled and weathered. They all took their seats at the long table, each picking up the parchment that was in front them.

Termus could head Dunham’s rugged shuffling and clanking of his armor a few students down from him. He never was a graceful one…

One of the women began speaking, not once looking up from her parchment. “Welcome all of you and congratulations on being brought into the fold.”

Termus could hear the contempt in her voice as she spoke, every word came reluctantly sprawling out of her mouth. “You will all have your official inauguration ceremony in just a few short days but right now, time is not on our side. We have called all of you here to be briefed on the mission ahead and the true beginning of your lives as proud officers of this great province.”

The room was silent. Termus knew that what these people said was law. He was thankful, however, that Frank was among them. The highest title a man could be given in this army. A Councilor. They were well respected on all fronts. Often referred to as the glue that bound the Legion together. Nine of them in total, three of which right here from the Handilian Plains. The rest, leaders and speakers from the other provinces that had been annexed in through one way or another. He couldn’t tell where each of these specific councilors came from but he knew what them being here meant for the new officers. War.

The Councilors turned their heads in unison toward Cram, still standing, his hands across his chest. He lowered them quickly and cleared his throat. Termus had never noticed the academy leader so nervous and unsure of himself before. He grabbed a large rolled up piece of parchment and unrolled it across the polished table. Cram beckoned for all the recruits to walk forward. “Listen good, boys. This is a map of the entire country.” He walked around the side of the table and pointed towards the center of the country, to a grass-green colored section.

“As you all know, this is the Handilian Plains. And we are here,” he said, sliding his finger up to a black circle toward the north of the Plains.

He lifted his hand and started pacing back and forth between the recruits, as if he was inspecting every one of them as he spoke. “We own almost all of this map that you see before you. We have united every man woman and soldier under one banner and we’ve done it through mostly diplomacy. But diplomacy will not work now. The Western-most province of Nagire has about four times the population of our capital and all of the men living there have chosen to take up arms against us. They are still stuck in the barbaric ways of letting a king rule them.

We had hoped to bring the king and his people peacefully under our control and let the primitive bastards govern themselves. So we called a meeting with the king and his advisors. We offered him peace, protection and a free annexation, free from taxes and what have you. After consulting with his advisors, the king had stood up and left without saying another word.”

Frank used to talk about the Nagerians as if they were traitors. Termus never did truly understand what right the Legion had to invade their home and force their king to forfeit his lands over. How does that make Nagerians treacherous?

“We have been fighting on their soil for the past few months and many of your brothers and sisters have already given their lives to the cause.” Cram leaned over the table, turning his head to face the recruits. Termus could have sworn that he was looking directly at him…

“We need Nagire,” he said sternly. “Without them, not only can we not say we’ve united the entire country, but we will also have no access to the Blighted Coast and its rare resources, either.”

Termus could feel Gnove’s excitement at the mention of the Blighted Coast. He had always gone on for days about the books he read about it. The entire western coast of the country, always destroyed and desolate, the silver sands of the beach as hot as coals. No one knew exactly why the coast was always having torrential downpours or violent lightning and meteor storms. Some say it housed an ancient secret that the gods have hidden away that they don’t want to be discovered. Some say arcana is still present there and protected by unseen traps placed there thousands of years ago. Gnove had always been a practical boy and he always recited what the more learned people believed. That the coast was located directly under Theonax’s Ring in the sky and that the ring was somehow the cause of the meteor showers and strange happenings there.

Gnove always talked about how man would try to build cities and towns fully covered and more durable to protect against the meteors and lightning. But it never seemed to work. In the end, the men just decided to move away from the coast altogether, and henceforth was named the Blighted Coast. He had to admit that he was curious about the place just as much as Gnove was, although he never shared his brother’s outward passion about actually visiting it. No way, far too dangerous, he would always try to tell his brother. But when had his brother ever listened to reason?

He had heard all the stories before, but he had to admit, he never knew there were any rare resources on the Blighted Coast. What kind of resources could be found in a place like that? Magical, possibly? He does remember the stories about some sources of arcana being hidden away there. But he had always assumed them to be just that. Stories.

“The details on the attack will be given out to only the men and women in this room,” Cram said, striding over to the bundle of recruits with a piercing glare at each and every one of them. “These words are not to leave this table. Every one of you sorry excuses for recruits will not repeat what you hear or what’s discussed in this meeting, unless you want to find yourself Taking the Shade for your crimes. Do you understand?”

“Yes Sir,” Termus said in unison with the other boys. He shoved the prodding feelings of intrigue, confusion and fear to the back of his mind as he had been trained to do and bit his upper lip nervously. His brother stood next to him, stiff as a solider, yet Termus almost felt the excitement boiling out of Gnove. Is there nothing that bothers him?

“We will attack from the front gates to the city. The gates are in disrepair since our previous siege on Nagire but our efforts thus far have been naught. We’ve pushed them from the surrounding villages, burned down their homes and forced them to hide behind their walls.”

Cram grabbed a cup from the table and took a large swig of it before continuing. “We have a camp stationed about a mile outside of the city, some of our best councilors and officers are there currently, planning the attack. We will send the dregs in first. We have over ten thousand men prepared to lay down their lives for the glory of Handil.

“Nagerians have always been a proud people, the stubborn cunts. They hold up a hundred thousand strong in their city. All of them painfully loyal to their King, to their province. Those men that are heading into the city for a fight, well, most of them will die. We’ve already lost over thirty thousand just getting to the damn gates.”

His gaze was a whetted blade’s edge, slicing through the recruits as he looked down each and every one of them. Termus couldn’t even begin to fathom the severity of what was just said. He couldn’t have been serious. That many people have died already?

Cram paused, turning toward the five councilors, their heads all bowed over the table, writing diligently as he spoke. The woman looked up to Cram when she noticed his pause. “Continue,” she said, casually waving her quill hand and looking back down to her notes.

Cram cleared his throat and looked away, as if thinking how to word what he was going to say next. It was a side of him that Termus had never seen before. Is he actually nervous?

“We need to do this before they repair and recover. It will take them at least a few weeks with our armies constantly knocking at their door. Reinforcements must be sent now so we can hit them while they’re still licking their wounds.”

Termus had never been to Nagire but he had heard stories. Frank would sit them down after dinner and tell them tales about his adventures traveling the country. He remembered every one of them. The ones about Nagire were always the most interesting though. The Unconquerable City, they called it. And for good reason. He would hear tales about how King Aaron V of House Reeves attempted to conquer the city to open up trade, but his army was completed decimated far before he could ever reach the gates. Frank had been in some of the more recent conflicts and admits to having to get his own hands dirty in some of the villages, despite being as high of a rank as he was. Sometimes, you just have to take matters into your own hands, he would always tell them.

“This is how we will proceed,” Cram said loudly, making sure the recruits were still paying attention. “King Casidius will be expecting us to break through the gates. He will be ready. But we’re not after the King. We’re after his daughter, Felice. The fifteen-year-old princess of Nagire. I’ve heard he’s very fond of the bitch. Our goal is simple. Kidnap her, extract what we can from her through torture and sell her back to his majesty in exchange for his city and his unconditional surrender. If things go sour, we'll send her back to him one piece at a time.”

A white banner hung at the front of the room. 'For Glory, With Dignity,' it read.