Chapter 2
The barracks were buzzing with excitement as everyone hurried to collect their things. As a herd the young soldiers made their way down to the transport station. General Adelphos was nowhere to be seen, but the Sorcerer Nolld was standing beside the door of a waiting transport. Again Chesta’s curiosity wondered at the unusual presence. There were several other Sorcerers milling about, their hands tucked inside their black cloaks, looking stern and impassive. He glanced about for the familiar pale-haired man he’d seen the day before; there was no sign of him.
The Sorcerers stepped forward, clasping the hands of the nearest soldiers. Their eyes narrowed slightly, and then they handed out a ticket to the boys. Chesta noticed immediately that those Sorcerers who held on a bit longer gave out the blue, as opposed to the red. The blue transport was where Nolld stood.
Chesta watched the whole procedure with a strange anxiety in him. There seemed to be no similarities between those soldiers chosen to receive the blue card--no outward similarities. Chesta was so preoccupied with finding the pattern that he was startled when a hand closed around his. The flesh was cold and clammy. Only a moment passed; the Sorcerer’s face twisted in brief disconcertment, and then a card was shoved into his palm. By the time he looked at it, the cloaked man had already moved on. The card was blue.
Chesta frowned thoughtfully--for some reason he felt relieved, though he wasn’t quite sure why. With a shrug he shouldered his bag and boarded the transport. Nolld gave him an appraising look as he passed.
Only a few boys were inside already: Dallet, the Muro brothers, and a black haired boy Chesta didn’t know the name of. There are a lot more people in the red transport, he noted. How are they splitting us up? Chesta packed his bag in the overhead compartment and took a seat beside the window. Several rows behind, Dallet was talking excitedly to the younger of the brothers. "I’ve never seen a Sorcerer before. They’re kinda creepy, ya know? Those cloaks…."
Chesta was distracted momentarily when another boy entered: again, the blonde from dinner. He wasn’t carrying any bags. With a sigh he dropped into the seat across the isle from Chesta, shifting to find a comfortable position. He looked a bit older than Chesta himself--maybe fourteen or fifteen--with a wiry frame, and scarred hands. He’s not a soldier, like us. Where did he get scars from?
The boy lifted his head, at last noticing Chesta’s prolonged stare. "What is it?" he asked, sounding a bit suspicious.
"Nothing," Chesta replied quickly. "I was just…." He broke off, at a loss for words. He wasn’t used to talking to people--especially strangers--and he didn’t want to say something offensive.
The boy was looking him over with careful scrutiny. "You look pretty young to be a soldier," he commented.
"I’m twelve." He glanced away. "And I’m not a soldier, yet. Just a trainee."
"Looks like we all are." The boy moved to sit beside him, which startled Chesta even more than having been spoken to. "My name’s Gatti."
"Chesta Allushe," he murmured. "Very nice to meet you." He paused. "You weren’t from the squad, were you?"
Gatti "hmphed" and rolled his eyes upward. "Hardly. Just a common street rat, I guess. The Sorcerers hauled me in."
The younger boy hummed thoughtfully. "You must be pretty strong, to have passed the test without any training."
"Well, I guess."
Outside, the crowd had thinned, and then dispersed. Only one more of the trainees had joined the blue transport: the ever stone-faced Vicha Delekku, one of the eldest. "Something’s not right," Chesta mused, as the remaining Sorcerers began to board. "How come there are so few of us here?"
Gatti shrugged. "I don’t know how military procedure works."
The Sorcerers took their seats, and immediately afterward the transport began to move. Something’s not right, Chesta thought continuously, watching as the scenery flashed past. Why bother splitting us up? Why so unevenly? Why us? He glanced about, wondering if the seven occupants had anything in common. But he didn’t know any of them well enough to even begin to guess.
"Don’t worry so much," Gatti advised, noting the look on his face. "Whatever their reason, if it’s important they’ll tell us, right?" He leaned his chair back the few degrees it was capable. "It doesn’t matter to me where we go." He closed his eyes, as if attempting to sleep.
Chesta frowned. He’s right. Does it really matter where we go? He settled himself as well. I might as well enjoy the rest. It’ll be a while before we get another chance.
The transport signaled their departure, slowly churning to life as they moved away from the station. Outside, the sun was just beginning to set: horizontal rays of honey-light spilled though the compartment windows. Chesta watched the orb's slow progress toward twilight. He should have felt hope and relief--he was moving on, like he'd always wanted. So many stories of the comradeship of soldiers had been absorbed into his brain, and now he would see for himself. He would find others like him--others he could talk to. Perhaps even friends.
He glanced at the boy beside him. Maybe…now's a good time to start? But, maybe he doesn't really want to talk now. I don’t want to annoy him. "Um…."
Gatti opened his eyes curiously. "Yeah?"
Chesta resisted the urge to again respond, "Oh nothing." Instead he asked, "Are you excited?"
"About what? Joining the army?" He raised his eyebrows doubtfully. "We'll be fighting, you know. We might go to war."
"Oh, yeah." Chesta hesitated. "But…but it'll be exciting, won't it? Meeting new people?"
The elder boy regarded him carefully, frowning slightly. "You don't have many friends, do you?"
"Well…I…."
"It's okay. Me neither." Gatti smiled with a hint of mischief. "Not much time for that when you're running from soldiers."
Chesta giggled at the image. "I guess not."
"So, where are you from?"
Has anyone ever asked me that? Again Chesta was stunned. Everyone knows from my name where I came from. They've never bothered to ask me directly. "Well…I'm from the capitol," he replied with a strange feeling of pride welling inside him. "My parents were fighters in the war."
The elder hummed thoughtfully. "So, you're living in their footsteps? Noble."
"Maybe." He wondered briefly if it was so noble, following his parent's fate. But…if they died without regrets…isn't that a good fate? A good life? If I could live that way, without regrets….
"What about you?" he found himself asking, partly to distract him from those thoughts.
"I'm from Callist. Just your ordinary orphan, trying to survive." Gatti lifted his head slightly. "I've gotten into some trouble before, so when the Sorcerer came up to me, I thought I was a goner. But he just put his hand on my head and said, 'come with me.'" He frowned and turned toward Chesta once more. "What do you know about them? I mean, why would they want me?"
"I…really don't know."
The Transport sped on, into the night. An hour later Chesta had fallen asleep, but was nudged awake by his companion. "We're stopping," he whispered, "but they're telling us not to get up."
Chesta rubbed his eyes and looked out the window. They had stopped upon a familiar scene: dozens of young boys milling about the transport station, receiving tickets from a handful of black-cloaked Sorcerers. "Looks like we're just picking up more kids," he commented.
"Maybe that's why this car was left practically empty."
But as the trainees received their assignments and took their seats, it was apparent that this was not the case: the car remained all but empty. There were three new additions: two tall, dark haired boys and one young blonde. The young one quickly introduced himself to everyone as Nividelle Talliskein, the youngest son of a noble family to the south. The other two weren't quite as enthusiastic. "Don't mind them," Nividelle said bouncily. "They're just as excited as I am--isn't it great? We're joining the army!"
Chesta and Gatti exchanged a dubious look, as if to question the boy's credibility. Soon after the transports continued on, and several more stops were made. There were now seventeen boys ranging from ages twelve to seventeen on board. Some were quiet and shy, like Chesta, while others boated loudly of how they'd succeeded in their training. Chesta watched them silently, not passing judgments, merely curious.
The next stop was far from the last, and there were only a handful of boys waiting to be assigned a transport. Three joined the blue car: a tall, wavy-haired blonde with a lopsided grin molded into his features; a brown-haired boy with restless, eager eyes; and a thin, pale boy with silver-white hair and gleaming red irises--an albino. His head was lifted high in a look of superiority, even though he didn't look any older than Chesta. His eyes were sharp but amused--as if viewing his subordinates. Everyone's attention was fixated on him. There was something different about this boy; he moved with the unfaltering gait of a full-grown man despite his fair appearance, and though his face was full of arrogance not one of the boys rose their voices to question. Chesta had at least expected the elder Muro brother to comment.
The albino moved down the isle of seats surrounded by curious murmurs and found a place just in front of Chesta and Gatti. The transport began once more, picking up speed.
Chesta glanced over the group of boys. "Something's going on," he murmured. "There's exactly 20 of us here, but there's a lot more in the other car. The Sorcerers separated us on purpose."
Are you thinking we're going to different places?" Gatti asked. "Is there something special about us?"
"If there is, it wasn't on our names or because of the tests." He remembered how the Sorcerer had touched him, how cold the skin had been against his hand. "The Sorcerers decided."
"I decided."
Both boys looked up, and were met with the crimson gaze of the newest addition to the transport. He was kneeling on his chair with his arms crossed on its back, smiling smugly. He's so pale, Chesta thought absently. Like a ghost. "What was that?"
"I said I was the one who decided," he replied, looking very much like one of the captains from Chesta's squad. "You're here because of me." Without explaining further he turned and sat back down.
The two blondes exchanged glances, puzzled. Gatti leaned over the seat. "Who are you?" he asked.
"Dilandau Albatou. Remember that."
Gatti made a sour face and sat back down. He rolled his eyes. But Chesta had a sudden impulse; he stood so that he could see the boy and declared. "I'm Chesta Allushe."
"Allushe?" Dilandau snorted and glared at him. "Isn't that a corrupted warrior's family name?"
Chesta was taken back, and couldn't reply. The boy went on. "I heard the Allushe's were extinct. Too bad a couple fools ruined a good line."
"Hey," Gatti began to protest, but Chesta had already sat down, frowning only slightly. He glared at the boy in exasperation. "Aren't you going to say something?"
Say something? But…I don't know if he's right or not. Chesta shook his head slowly. "No. It's not worth it."
He made another face and leaned back in his chair. "Are you always this passive?" he asked dryly.
"I've…never been insulted before," Chesta said. "The captains tell me when I do something wrong, but they're teachers--it's their job. No ones made fun of me before." His brow furrowed. "Should I be mad?"
Gatti stared at him as if he had transformed suddenly into something odd, like a small rodent. After a moment, though, he sighed in a kind of amused annoyance. "No, I guess you're right--it's not worth it. It's good to see someone as level-headed as you, Chesta." He shifted in his seat. "I'm getting some sleep."
"Good idea." Chesta leaned his head against the window, gazing out at the miles of uninterrupted badlands that surrounded them. "Guess we'll figure everything out once we get there."
Several hours later--Chesta wasn't quite sure how long he'd slept--the transport grinded to a final stop. By now everyone aboard had realized that something was going on. The several Sorcerers that had accompanied them exited first, closely followed by the 20 sleepy--but still very eager--teens. Upon unloading it was quickly discovered that the red transport wasn't with them. Their destination appeared to be a military training ground, very similar to what they'd left, though very little of it was visible in the dark. Chesta and Gatti stayed close together, glancing about wonderingly as the boys gathered.
"This shall be your new home, until further notice," a voice rose out of the shifting crowd. It belonged to the silver-haired Sorcerer, Nolld. Everyone quickly silenced. "As you may have suspected, you have been selected for a special training unit--a Guymelef unit." An excited murmur spread through the crowd. "Your superiors shall greet you in the morning. As with any elite unit, you are expected to serve them with the utmost of your abilities and respect. If at any time you prove yourself unworthy of this honor, you shall be ejected from the ranks, and sent back to join General Adelphos. Am I understood?"
"Yes, sir," came the clipped reply.
Nolld smiled faintly in approval. "Good. Follow me to the barracks."
The old man led them into the compound, past several guarded doorways, into a long hall lined with bunk beds. He explained that in the morning someone would arrive to give them a tour of the facility, and to explain the rules of conduct and procedure. For now, all they needed to know was where to sleep. This suited them fine, as the long journey had left them all drained and seeking ample room for their cramped muscles. Many didn't bother to change clothes. Chesta was among these--he soon found slumber despite the stiff mattress and thin sheets.
