World Fire

Decision

There was a sombre mood in the air as Stag waited for them.

'Stand at attention. Or sit. I don't care.' Stag watched as they assembled. A few people stood, Locke among them, but the rest gave in to their exhaustion and sat down. Arla, her forehead wiped clean of all the marks, and Miles, stood on either side of Stag.

Stag waited for all of them to come, then an extra minute, until he opened his mouth to speak again. 'None of you returned with any marks, let alone the forty required to escape punishment. All of you have a gruelling punishment waiting for you. It will not be pretty, and you won't enjoy it one bit. After you have finished your punishment, you will go to sleep and wake up once again at cock's crow. All that will await you is more training, and more punishment, and more training, and more punishment. There will be no end.

'And when you engage in real combat, it will be with your life on the line against an enemy that the Royal Army of Justisar has ignored. You will earn no accolades or awards, just continuous slight for being a soldier of the lowest of the low, the Amber Army. People will mock you day in and day out for being under the leadership of the disgraced noble, Stag.

'And that is why I offer you a choice. You know what awaits you. You know our goal, to destroy the Black Hand and seek revenge for all the lives that we have lost. To some of you, this is a deeply personal effort, to others, you don't give a damn. But, personal or no, I will force you into nothing. You may have been conscripted, or this is the only home you now have, but perhaps you are a simple person with simple desires, who want nothing more than a simple life.

'That's right. I am offering all of you a choice. You may stay here, and I will sculpt you into the strongest soldier you can imagine, as strong as Miles or Arla who broke your hearts and stole your marks from you. Or you may leave here. I will formally discharge you. You will be granted a hefty sum of gold so that you can return home or rent out a tavern for a month or so before you need to find a job. I will ensure that you will need to provide no labour to the army and can live a free life once more.

'So, it is your choice. I will pressure none of you. If you want to leave, go over there.' Stag stretched out his hand and pointed to a small patch of grass.

'Finally, we can be free of that Red Elf rat.' Kelth let out a shout of laughter, threw up his hands in a smug shrug and made his way to the patch of grass as the soldiers watched him. A few other soldiers meandered behind him, nodding with his sentiment.

'Shut up, Kelth. You're just pissed that she's more skilled than you,' Kets shouted, her legs wobbling as she spoke. Kelth ignored her and a few of the people that trailed behind him laughed.

'Ahh, Kets. Why don't you come up here?' Stag curled his finger towards him and motioned for her to come closer. She gave a nervous glance from side to side, then ducked her head and made her way to the front of the crowd to stand in front of Stag. 'Lift your chin.' She did so. 'When people look at you, they are always inclined to think of you as a hopeless idiot who can't get much done. Yet, still, you stand up for what you believe in. This test, you knew that your friends had not abandoned you, and you still fought to deliver them the marks, even when you had exhausted yourself entirely. Go on, leave here with your head held high. You are a commendable person.'

She stared into Stag's eyes, quivering. Her shaking legs gave way and she dropped to the floor. She covered her eyes with her arms, but the trembling of her body told Locke that she was crying.

Stag dropped down into a squat and lifted her chin. 'Don't go crying when I compliment you.'

'It's … it's just.' The tears dropped down onto the grass, thick and fast. 'I've never been complimented in such a way before. How … how can I not get emotional? And … and how can I abandon you when you said such kind words. I've always … wanted to be … accepted. A-and now, w-when s-someone commended m-me, you want me to l-l-leave?'

'Don't be swayed by your temporary emotions, Kets. This is no easy road staying here.'

'I know.' She wiped at her eyes, the tears sinking deep into her clothes. 'I know. I'm going to stumble every step of the path, because that's what I always do. I'm going to disappoint you a damn lot of times. But by the end, I swear you'll be proud of me. Ya ha … ha.'

Stag broke out into a brilliant smile. By now, there were more people on the patch of grass than not, and more were moving to join them.

Stag's eyes wandered the crowd and fell on Locke, who stood resolute. 'You already know that I'm staying here.'

'A-and me.' Trys thrust her hand up into the sky as the soldiers moved by her, towards the patch of grass.

Stocke shifted on his feet, and Stag noticed how unsure he was. 'What's the matter, Stocke. Go. You're welcome to.'

But Stocke did not move. He ran a seed through his hand, rolling it between his fingers. 'Where would I go?'

Stag shrugged. 'Hell if I know.'

Stocke swallowed and sighed, pressing his fist to his heart. 'We're disgraced in the same way, Stag. I don't look forward to the training and the hell I'll need to live through, but there is no where else I can go.'

'Are you sure? I will do everything in my power to ensure that –'

'Shut up!' Stocke stamped his foot, embarrassed by his temporary uncertainty. 'I'm staying here. Don't try and convince me otherwise. I don't want to change my mind.'

Almost everyone was gone, and there was only Rickter who he had not interviewed. 'Rickter?'

'I've got things to do. I have goals to reach. It's time I knuckle down and try my goddamn hardest.'

Stag eyed the number of soldiers standing on the patch of grass, then returned his gaze to the people in front of him. His eyes focused on Locke. 'Quite curious indeed,' he muttered.

Stag cleared his throat. 'So just five of you, eh. Higher than I could have ever hoped. Now,' he said as he cracked his knuckles, 'let's drag you lot through hell.'