Chapter Thirteen - The First Command

1 Seleszeni 10.076 Z.C., Early Morning

“Everyone listen up,” the captain called, projecting a clear and resonant voice across the long mustering hall. “Today’s mission is an important one, surely your most important in the Legion thus far. As you all know, Guildpact Day is a cause for celebration, and many get carried away with their revels. We need all boots on the streets, which is why you initiates are being called into service. Your duty is to make sure the crowd stays peaceful, and the senators and other dignitaries in the parade remain unharmed.”

Mav glanced around the hall as the captain went on, checking on Splatz, who stood in formation with other newly-promoted initiates. Splatz’ scanty literacy and hygiene did not go over well with Enkha, his cadet; he made initiate only a few days ago. Mav balled his fingers into a fist to contain his anger, recalling the traumatized look on Splatz’ face the morning he returned from the ‘proving mission’ Enkha took him on. The courageous goblin still refused to talk about it.

The cadet’s history with squires concerned Mav - three ‘uncommitted’ recruits washed out under the thuggish minotaur’s command. Somehow Splatz graduated, a first for Enkha. Mav felt proud of his friend’s tenacity in the face of unfair treatment and torment. Boros tradition dictated breaking down a squire’s old self and building them up into a new person, a legionnaire; even the guildless knew Legion training exhausted the mind and body. But Enkha went too far. The collage of fading bruises on Splatz’ body proved that.

Mav forced himself to unclench his jaw and relaxed his fist. It took all his willpower not to make the minotaur answer to his fists for her improper conduct, but getting into a fight wouldn’t help Splatz. Still, if he ever got a chance, he’d make Enkha pay for every bruise she doled out.

The captain continued the briefing, outlining the parade route on large illusory maps projected onto the wall by a white-robed embermage at the front of the room. The parade would start at 1000 hours in the Tenth District Plaza and head south along Plaza Avenue to the Chamber of the Guildpact, before continuing down the Transguild Promenade to another large plaza further south in Precinct Two. The parade took the same route every year the captain explained, before pointing out usual trouble spots and taking questions. Then they turned the floor over to a sergeant with a large scroll of float assignments.

As the sergeant barked out teams and assignments, Mav recognized some of the logistical deployment patterns. Small squads of initiates peppered the spread of more experienced units, ensuring capable veterans could respond with haste to any threat. He studied the map of the Tenth District Plaza as the sergeant read on through the long scroll, and guessed more initiates would be stationed toward the end of the parade, after leading teams quelled most of the rowdy audience members.

After several minutes of rattling off names and assignment numbers, the sergeant called for Initiate Stoutheart. Mav glanced over to see Nadine nod and conceal a proud grin, turning on a heel to leave with her squad of fresh initiates. Her dark eyes looked solemn and serious with her spunky brown curls hidden beneath her soldier’s helm.

Perhaps because of his own helmet, she didn’t notice him as she collected her gear and followed her squad leader out of the room. She bumped into him an awful lot during their squire training, and her advances didn’t stop when they both graduated to initiate a couple Razisdays ago. Lilla formed an easy friendship with her. She didn’t need to worry about Nadine’s obvious attraction to a famous, tragic past. Whenever Mav caught her staring at him she wore one of two expressions: pity or thirst.

The sergeant called Splatz’ name off the scroll, along with several other new initiates, led by an older man whose name sounded familiar. A few teams down the list, the sergeant called Brogmir to lead a group of initiates. He and Mav met each other’s eyes. When Instructing Sergeant Drazhan noticed their budding rivalry, he pitted the two against each other in endurance tests until their mutual distaste morphed into a shared respect for the other’s resolve. Brogmir’s reassuring wink gave Mav hope he would be placed in charge of his own command.

The sergeant then placed Cadet Enkha in command of a squad guarding one of the Azorius senators’ floats. Mav watched her collect her squad, a team of firefist cadets based on their rank insignia. All brutish minotaurs too - perhaps some noodle-armed windbag of a senator liked the look of minotaurs guarding them and called in a favor?

Several more teams assembled and left the mustering hall.

“Initiate Viktorr, to lead Initiates Arven, Young, Susmum, Juzjub, and Gaius, assigned to guard Senator Orric, Float 327.”

Mav saluted the sergeant, then looked over to Lilla, who puckered her face into an indiscernible sneer, and his other assigned troops. He already met Juzjub and Young in soldier training these past two weeks. Juzjub made quick friends with Mav, who told his fellow Sixer he joined the Legion to repay a family debt to the Orzhov Syndicate. Mav felt bad for the guy; no one ever repaid their obligations to the ghost council in full. The sinister spirits always found a way to keep you in debt.

He didn’t know much about Initiate Young, except her obsession with angels. He often caught the aspiring embermage doodling them during tactical training, and she dyed and coiffed her hair in the luxuriant style of the firemane angels. She tucked her own mane under her helmet’s ridges as he approached, leading them out of the hall.

Mav stepped out of the mustering hall into the early morning light of the Tenth District Plaza, pausing for a moment to collect his bearings and check on his team. He led them to the parade’s staging area, along a Legion access skybridge overlooking the gilded spires and stained-glass windows of the adjacent Church of Deals and Vizkopa Bank, the spired dual headquarters of the Orzhov. Beyond the twin citadels Mav spied Precinct Six and the canyon of Old Rav below, the horizon filled with a mountainous expanse of urban sprawl. I bet I could see my place from here. Wonder if Grubby’s eaten a hole through the cupboards yet...

The crisp morning air felt refreshing after so long in the local garrison with several hundred other troops. The skies above glimmered clear blue, promising a warm spring day.

When they arrived in Precinct One via the Transguild Promenade earlier this morning, long flat carts the floats rode on filled the otherwise-empty courtyard, its massive space cleared of pedestrians by arresters before sunup. Now, with preparations for the Guildpact Day parade underway, the Tenth District Plaza simmered with life. Spectators crowded the barricaded edges of the staging area as pages ran this way and that, while Boros soldiers and Azorius arresters maintained overwatch from myriad locations.

Mav navigated the congested passages with the dexterity of a Rakdos acrobat, leading his team to Float 327. They beat Senator Orric and his guests here; Mav congratulated himself on paying attention to the maps during the briefing. He turned back to examine his first charges and smiled. Lilla looked crisp, albeit drowsy. He couldn’t blame her - long, early morning briefings made everyone sleepy, though the quick march through the crowd seemed to clear the glazed expressions from the others’ eyes.

“Attention!” he called, satisfied with his team’s near-flawless snap to formation. The sudden weight of duty dispersed the confident grin developing on his face. He saw Lilla roll her eyes, but opted to ignore her as long as she didn’t make a show of it.

“Ten thousand years ago,” he began, “the Guildpact brought peace to Ravnica. Today, as our fellow citizens celebrate that peace, we are honored with the responsibility to protect those who hold it dear. We have been assigned to guard Senator Orric and his guests through the Guildpact Day Parade.” He paused, checking eyes for concerted attention, and paced down the short line his team formed. “This is an important mission. Stay alert and stay focused. Keep a close watch out for danger, and don’t leave your post unless ordered. We’re here to keep the peace, not to party.” Lilla winced, as Mav realized too late how she might misinterpret the comment. No time now, he made a mental note to apologize later.

“The sergeants and the angels will be watching us closely today. They may have even cooked up a test for us. Let’s make them proud!”

“Yes Initiate!” his team chorused in time with one another, with one exception. Mav pivoted on his heel as he reached the end of the line.

“Whatever initiate,” the nearest man muttered under his breath, just loud enough for Mav to hear. He stopped and turned to face his subordinate, locking eyes with a human at least five years his senior. The man bore an initiate’s insignia with no special medals or bars. Mav remembered his face from training, but not much else.

“Initiate Gaius, you have something to add?” he asked, marshaling his features into an impassive mask to hide the trepidation turning in his gut. He did not want confrontation on his first command. He locked eyes with Gaius; something in the other man’s familiarity gave him pause.

You resent me for being a Viktorr? Assume I have some kind of wing-up, coming from a family of dead legionnaires? Mav didn’t ask to be selected for command, and didn’t want special treatment. In fact, he wanted the opposite; a chance to prove his own worth. He understood why Gaius resented him, and felt guilty and privileged enough without him calling it out. Mav would discharge his duties to the best of his ability, ruffled feathers or otherwise.

Do us both a favor and don’t answer, Mav willed. His face surged with burning blood, he knew it tinted red by now.

Gaius hesitated, still staring at Mav, the challenge in his eyes dimming. After a few tense seconds, he refocused his eyes forward and saluted.

“Nothing, sir!”

Mav lost no time in returning the salute, releasing his breath before realizing he’d held it. He shook his head and walked on, confirming his squad’s specialties as he remembered them from training. He assigned marching orders for positions around the float when the parade started later, placing Lilla at the front and himself along the northern flank, which the briefing warned the most possible hazards came from. They discussed a few defensive formations and evacuation strategies for various scenarios, ensuring the senator’s party would suffer no harm.

With a couple hours until the parade began, and even longer until their float started moving, he ordered his squadmates to get comfortable and settle in for a long day. The soldiers relaxed, most with understandable relief on their faces. Uncle Brutus told many stories at wojek game night of overeager young officers who exhausted their troops before the battle even began.

Their float stood quiet, a bastion of calm in the overabundant chaos of the Plaza. Standing at ease, Mav enjoyed the sights and sounds of the city in celebration. Once the parade began and they moved out of the barricaded Plaza, he would focus on potential hazards to the Azorius on the float. For now, he let his eyes wander. Diverse dignitaries and representatives from all ten guilds started showing up, taking prominent places on their floats and beaming pride. He enjoyed seeing the city like this, and looked forward to Guildpact Day every year. Sure, the rich were still rich, and the guildless still overlooked, but on a day like today, all citizens celebrated together.

Time slipped by as the initiates watched the crowd and the rest of the parade take shape before them. As the sun rose higher in the sky, Mav’s heavy standard-issue Legion chainmail suffocated him. No amount of people-watching could distract him from the sweat pooling in the curve of his low back, either. He longed for the freedom to shed his oppressive helmet and chain shirt, or at least to wear the fitted armor of a true soldier.

He started training with heavy armor just two weeks ago when he made initiate; not long enough to grow accustomed to the way it restricted his movement and trapped heat. The instructing sergeants insisted using standard-issue armor now would make the initiates faster when they received their fitted gear as soldiers, but Mav doubted them. A glance around his team showed them more comfortable in the mail than he. Only Lilla stood out, fiddling with her helmet and sighing like she wanted to remove it. “Typical Lilla,” he heard his inner Splatz mutter.

Before long, two carriages pulled up to Float 327, bearing pennants and heraldry of the Azorius Senate. Mav called the squad to defensive positions while the occupants offloaded, making their way up to the float. Mav stood near the steps of the float, trying to memorize the passengers’ faces in case he needed to identify an infiltrator later. He never excelled in academics, but possessed an acute visual memory.

Two human men emerged from the first carriage, both dressed in ornate blue, white, and silver robes befitting members of the Azorius. Mav guessed the man with fancier robes must be Senator Orric. As the pair drew near, the presumed-senator graced them with a politician’s smile, running his left hand over his slicked-back hair before shaking each of their hands with his right, and taking his place at the head of the float. His companion - an older man with a distinguished bearing, square jaw, and stoic features - did not smile. Mav saluted him as he followed the senator, and they resumed their quiet conversation once out of earshot.

Mav scanned the area again and noted several reporters watching the men. He fought back a rush of memories, reporters pressing in on all sides, bright flashes of illusory light as they snapped holographic images, Brutus and Melo doing their best to shield him from prying eyes. Mav shuddered. He avoided the press like he avoided the Azorius, on general principle. Today it seemed, he would face both.

The press, commonplace on festival days, never bothered Mav and Splatz on the roof of their tenement, where they celebrated most every year. He imitated the senator and his companion, ignoring the reporters and grateful his sweltering Legion helmet at least shielded his face from their prying eyes. Several aides, all human besides one vedalken, scurried out of the second carriage and onto the float, carrying chairs for the dignitaries, and a third carriage arrived alongside the float.

A quick glance confirmed to Mav his team still held their positions. The attendant opened the carriage and helped down the rest of the senator’s guests. A resplendent older woman stepped down, blond hair and diamond jewelry glistening in the sun. Her daughter, judging by the kindred locks and slim figure, emerged next.

Following the ladies, two young men leapt out of the carriage, ignoring the attendant’s outstretched hand. The first, a blond human with a striking resemblance to the older woman, stretched his legs and hopped onto the float, his stride and smile easy. Familiar with this much attention, Mav gathered. The second man hesitated, looking around.

Mav studied his stance, recognizing a fighter when he saw one. The man appeared half-elven, but something about his left arm struck Mav as strange. Although the arm itself seemed stiff enough, his shoulder drooped a little too low, like an injured man’s. Squinting to hide his eyes, Mav checked the man for concealed weapons as he approached the float. A longsword at his hip and two hand axes on his waist, but not concealed. After a few paces, Mav made out several odd reddish tentacles protruding from the bottom of his left sleeve, wound together into the crude facsimile of a hand.

Simic hybrid, he realized, and relaxed. While commonplace with those in the Simic Combine, bioengineered enhancements like this stood out among the Azorius. An odd companion, perhaps a personal guard.

Once the Azorius settled in and did not require anything from him and his team, Mav instructed the initiates to resume their watchful rest while they awaited the opening ceremony and the beginning of the parade.

For the next hour, Mav watched and waited, whispering with his team and listening in on the Azorius chatter. He could only hear the two young men talking, yammering on about the blond’s parents’ desire for their son to ‘demonstrate motivation.’ The blond, named Bron, called the other Rafiel, and thanked him for attending the parade with him. He went on to mention the young woman, his sister and the apple of his parents’ eyes, earned a promotion to emissary not four days ago. Mav shook his head, baffled by the rivalry and competitive family dynamics.

The morning sun climbed higher in the sky, illuminating the shapes of skyknights and other aerial guardians on patrol over the parade route. The number of Boros and Azorius troops at the parade inspired awe, and looking around Mav felt somewhat superfluous. With so many able protectors the parade would be certain to proceed uninterrupted, as it did for many years past.

Magical holograms soared through the sky above the large stage at the northern end of the Tenth District Plaza, signalling the first of the commencement speakers to approach the podium. Oratory enchantments in the Plaza carried their voice across the crowd, silencing the crowd gathered there as the opening ceremony began.