The whole city was moving unlike it had in any of the mortal men’s memory. That is not to say that the city had not moved before, it had always been alive with the daily toiling of its citizens, the wives and the husbands, the children and the beasts, the temple and the commerce. But this was different, while before the city was like a bubbling spring, now it was like the waves of the tide. One force and will moved the city’s inhabitants to their places with sure purpose and the whole city dug down and braced itself for the told coming attack. Armies moved, the ground rumbled, and the skilled laborers were put to use by the divine governance, making swords and spears and armor for the scores of warriors that were now off the reserve and in active duty. The city was electrified with an energy and spirit; it was a flood of excess excitement and doom. The city burst as scores of men and women poured out from the gate in long marching lines of soldier finding their places in the frontline. Up on the wall the men stationed there saw the glory of the companies, their shining armor glinting proudly in the light like a sea during sunrise. And all men beheld and wondered, was there ever a force that could rival the strength of The Endless City and the power and majesty of Kami? It was prophesied throughout the city that this would be the last battle, the final stroke that would defeat the enemy for good and usher into being the glorious new city of Kami and the salvation of all the righteous.

The city rumbled with excitement, and even the deep places below were affected by the new motions. The new conscripts were blind, but all could sense the change in the air, in the walls, and in the stone of the floor. They looked up towards the ceiling and whispered to one another about what it might mean. The marshal’s behavior had changed suddenly as well, as if a new urgency was upon them. They pushed the men harder than ever before.

Marshal Kean was no exception, a strange light was in his eyes now and whatever minute traces of mercy he had left in him were wiped away. Deep in the closed room in the floor, he punished his exhausted men as they struggled vainly to accomplish his impossible demands. A day after Fallow’s reuniting with Captain Liehold, Kean worked his men in a frenzied desperation.

“The next person,” he screamed hoarsely, walking catlike though the mess of men in his gym. “Who lets himself get subjugated by his opponent will get –.” He never finished his sentence though, as one of the two men who were grappling right before him slipped in his grip and felt himself get flipped around and flung to the floor by his opponent. Without another word Kean jump on top of the fallen man like a tiger on its prey. From nearby Drake now saw that the poor man was Heath. With furious blows Kean beat the kid as Heath covered his face with his arms and cried out. Kean was yelling all the while, “YOU WEAK PIECE OF CARNST! WHAT DO YOU HOPE TO ACHIEVE WHEN YOU ARE AS PATHETIC AND COWARDLY AS YOU ARE! JUST DIE IN YOUR OWN INCOMPETENCE!”

Ashton, Hourbour, and Gethroe all made a move towards the Marshel to stop him, but Drake reached him first. Standing above the marshal with fierce anger in him, Drake reached down and threw the officer off of Heath. Kean tumbled as he fell away from them and Drake yelled at him, “What do you think you’re doing?” Ashton and Genthroe made for the unconscious Heath, lying in a small pool of his own blood. Hourbour took up a position next to Drake, backing him. The whole room tensed and the other men stood still, waiting to see what would happen.

To Drake’s surprise, the marshal got up calmly and wiped off his uniform without looking up. “What am I doing?” he said, re-adjusting his armor. “What are you doing Drake? Haven’t we gone through this before?” He spoke nonchalantly.

“You can’t just hurt these men like that!” Drake countered, flinging his right arm back to draw attention the Heath, now being propped up by Ashton.

Ashton looked grave but said to Drake, “He’ll be okay Drake, don’t do this again.”

“You were going to kill him!” Drake hollered, ignoring Ashton’s words.

“Better that he die here than out there on the battlefield!” Kean replied looking up at Drake with a glare. “For weak people such as you the battlefield will be a plain of blood, death, and horror of the likes none of you can imagine. Here at least, you can die peacefully within the arms of your brethren and Kami, rather than in the bloodlust of the enemy. I am dispensing mercy.”

“That’s not for you to decide, Marshal!” Drake snapped back. “We have the right to decide how we are to live; you’re supposed to be responsible for us, to care for us. Not to do this!”

“Those who cannot attain results,” the marshal said savagely. “Should just die.” He turned around to speak to the whole group, “Make no mistake all of you! I would slaughter the lot of you rather than let you out of this floor without attaining my standards. Between you and my training record, my record is infinitely more important to me! You are nothing!”

“You can’t do that!” Drake spurted out stupidly. The blood rushing to his head from his rage blotted out his ability to think straight. In the truest form of the word, he was seeing red.

Marshal Kean raised his arms out and said to Drake, “I can.” He turned and spoke to the whole group again. “I was given responsibility for training you bunch of fools, certainly. I had also been given absolute law for your lives; none have the right to challenge me.” He was speaking calmly but to Drake, Kean felt a dangerous line laced into his words. Drake felt his hair stand on end. Despite Drake’s challenge, the marshal still had absolute command. He turned back to Drake and continued, “You’ve challenged me before Drake; you know what you need to do to change things.” Kean dropped into his fighting stance and beckoned Drake forward, eager to tear him apart. He spoke in a deadly voice, “You have lost to me four times before, and are you ready to be broken by me again? I will not let you leave until you are in a worse condition than your friend.”

Hourbour whispered urgently into Drake’s ear, “Drake, you need to stop now. Heath will be okay. Don’t fight the marshal! Last time you did you almost had your arm broken, this time will be worse!” Drake’s blood was boiling though.

Drake looked back at Ashton to see him shake his head and whisper, “Don’t do it.”

But Kean spoke loudly, “Come on Drake, you cannot back out now. You’ve challenged my authority yet again because you feel that what I am doing is wrong. Where is your conviction though!? Without beating me nothing will change, you just a dog barking into the night. In fact, if you don’t fight me now, I will punish everybody. I will whip them to the flesh and then drag that off their bodies to coat the floor in my den! I will beat you until I hear you whisper at me that you wished you were dead. You can’t stop halfway Drake. Besides,” he added with a glint in his eyes. “I will not be satisfied if you back down.”

The threat paralyzed everybody in the room, their imaginations creating the horror in their minds and their skin crawling because they knew he would do it. Drake was frozen too, in dread. The marshal barked at him, “Now, Drake!”

Not even Ashton protested when Drake slowly walked forward to face the menace. Ashton only supported Heath up and silently looked on in anguish. As Drake closed in, the men withdrew to the corners of the room away from the fight. Only Vanyer, Hourbour, and Gethroe stayed forward and they backed up to be behind Drake. The room, in reflection to the mass of activity up above, was charged with energy. Before Drake could position himself properly though, the marshal attacked.

The marshal had on his usual armor, guards on his forearms and a small chest plate on his upper body. He came in close and struck with his right hand in a hard blow aimed at Drake’s unprotected right side. It was a feint however, at the same time he brought his left hand around in a swift motion in Drake’s blind spot at the back of his neck. He meant to end it in a sudden move, knocking Drake out in one quick motion. But Drake sensed the trap and moved slightly forward as well, taking the lessened blow to his side and avoiding the neck strike all together.

At the same time, he was able to land a counter at the marshal, hitting him on the edge of the breastplate, almost mirroring the blow Kean had given him. They both backed out after the sudden clash, each feeling the pain from each other’s blow. “Good instinct!” Kean said suddenly. “But now I come for real!”

Marshal Kean had not won his renown as a master fighter idly. Drake had fought against him four times before over the last few months and knew what kind of creature he was. The man struck at weak points with precision and agility. He moved around on his feet in almost a blur, never letting himself stay still to keep his opponent unsteady. He depended upon key strikes at his opponent rather than raw strength, but he was still capable of punching holes through his enemies if the situation called for it. He used little armor on his uniform so as to not slow himself down, but the little armor he kept he used well and often to his advantage. The man was a monster that enjoyed his abilities almost as much as he enjoyed hurting others.

And aside from his strikes, his grappling and throwing techniques were deadly. Drake knew that if he got caught by the man’s hands it was over, and he knew this because the marshal had been trying to teach his techniques to these men for the past two weeks. Drake had been thrown around enough the past week by his comrades to leave his body covered in black and blue bruises that slowed him down.

But Drake was not a raw recruit anymore; the months of training had transformed him into a being capable destroying his opponent with his bare hands. In very many ways Drake’s hands had already become as deadly as weapons. With his rage to give him strength, Drake squared up with the marshal and the two fought in a series of quick blows, fighting for territory and positioning with each other in order to secure clearer advantages.

In fact, within the short period of only four months, Drake had become a powerful soldier, capable of standing with the rest of the fighters on the battlefield and, more impressively, last a minute in a duel with Marshal Kean.

After securing the ground to Drake’s close right side and before Drake could reposition himself, the marshal threw a straight strike a Drake’s right temple. To avoid it, Drake leaned left to have the marshal’s steel like hand scrape across his cheek, but he gave up his opportunity to reposition his feet in doing so. In a swift execution, Kean swiped his legs across the ground, tripping Drake. The last thing Drake saw before the painful blackness was the triumphant scowl on the marshal’s face as he brought down the heavy blow that ended the fight.

In my dreams, I saw a fierce storm. The whole sky was covered in dark and grey clouds and the tension in the air felt like energy was just waiting to burst. The wind was great and it blasted my face and ears so that I could hear nothing besides its great howl. I thought I could hear words in the wind but as much as I closed my eyes and strained my ears, there was nothing understandable I could make out. It was only the chaotic murmurings from sources I couldn’t understand. There was no rain, and that surprised me, for the bulbous clouds overhead were dark and heavy as though they held enough water to flood this place. But then I realized that the darkness in the clouds was not just due to their density but to the fact there was no light behind them to begin with.

The wind was growing steadily more terrible and my clothing and hair were both fluttering madly. I had to squint my eyes to see and place my hands before them to protect them from the debris the wind was carrying around. The plain I was standing on were mostly bare, the long and subtle hills were sparsely covered by short trees and even shorter grass. I thought to myself that even if there were bigger trees around, they would have surely been blown away already.

Bright flashes appeared above me, exploding suddenly then disappearing just as quickly. I waited to hear the thunder that accompanied lightening, but either the roar of the wind was too great or it wasn’t lightning at all, for I could not make out any deep vibrations in the air. The flashes continued though, presenting me an awesome spectacle of light and power. I stood in awe of the lights, and somewhat anxious at the incredible force being displayed. I looked around briefly to share the experience with somebody, but I saw I was all alone in this place. Great gusts of wind continued, wiping across the short grass creating ripples of fascinating beauty, but the more I looked around these plains the more lonely I became.

The lightning was now flashing more often and I suddenly grew afraid. I tried to move away from the small hill I was on, but my feet wouldn’t move. I looked down at them and saw that they were secured to the earth by two long dusty grey chains. I reached down to pull out the chains from the earth, but no amount of strength I could muster would budge the steel links that held me.

The rain suddenly came pelting down, and along with it was large hail that bruised me when it hit. I cried out in pain and tried to protect myself from the unsought, when I felt the chains on my legs give a tug. I looked down again and saw that the chain was disappearing into the ground below me, dragged by some unknown force. I began panicking and struggling against the force, ignoring the sharp blows of the ice and cold. The chain was being pulled inexorably, though, and soon I was slowly dragged into the earth, screaming. As the dirt came in around me, I looked up and saw Drfuil standing high in the air, looking down at me as if all the pain of the universe was upon his heart.

Drake woke up sputtering as if a bucket of water washed away from him. He looked around wildly wondering where the heck he was and where the face of Drfuil had gone too… Ashton held him steady, and said, “Take it easy Drake, it’s okay, everything's alright now.”

Drake’s head hurt terribly and as he reached up to touch it he felt the large bandage on his head. He knew it was stained red with blood from the pain he was feeling. “What happened?” he muttered, letting his hand drop from the wound.

Ashton snorted, “What, you do not remember challenging that monster to a fight? No wonder, considering the knock he gave you.”

Drake groaned in pain, “No, I remember it now. I thought I had him this time.”

Ashton snorted again, “Yeah, for about five seconds you had him, about one second longer than last time if I recall.”

“yeah…” Drake said letting himself fall back onto the bed he was lying and closing his eyes. Then he jerked up, “Wait, why am I here? I usually wake up on the gym floor after the marshal trashes me. I shouldn’t be in my bed!”

Ashton was sitting beside Drake on the floor; he was carving another flute with one of the knives from Kami’s table. He let the shrapnel fall to the floor. “There have been big changes since you have been out.” He said without looking up.

Drake sat up in horror. “What?! What changes? What’s going on? How long was I out?” Drake winced as a stab of pain came through his body.

“Only about a day.” Ashton replied looking up now. There was a grin on his face. “Settle down already, didn’t I tell you everything was fine.”

Drake hesitated, and laying back down again softly. “Sometimes you say that though, and it is not true.” He grumbled.

Ashton laughed, “I suppose that is true. But believe me now when I say it.”

Drake shook his head at his friend slightly. He saw now that he was in his squad’s dormitory on his own bed. The room was empty besides the two of them and besides the quiet scraping of Ashton’s blade; he could only hear low mumblings in the background. He closed his eyes and asked, “How is Heath doing?”

“Much better than you actually,” Ashton replied easily, returning his attention to his flute. “Really, your temper is going to kill you one day. You were lucky to survive this last one.”

“Oh, come on!” Drake growled angrily. “You saw what he had done to Heath. If I hadn’t stopped him, he really would have killed him. Don’t scold me about my temper!”

Ashton sighed, letting his hands drop, “I suppose you are right. It was a lose-lose situation, that one. But,” he continued, picking up his flute again. “The four earlier times were for much less noble reasons if I recall correctly.”

“You sound like an old lady.” Drake complained lying still in his bed. It was soft and comfortable to him, something he didn’t have time to notice before. Drake waited a bit, listening to the soft chipping sound of Ashton’s knife. He asked bluntly, “Are you going to tell me what the news is or am I going to have to strangle you.”

“I’d like to see you try.” Ashton replied casually.

“I’d like to see you stop me,” Drake countered.

“Yeah,” Ashton replied mockingly looking up at Drake, “Maybe all I’d have to do is take my little finger here and push you away from me like so…” he brought the knife up close to Drake. He scowled back. Ashton laughed and retreated. “The training is done,” he said. “As of yesterday, the entire floor has graduated from our time here.”

Drake was taken aback. He asked quickly “What do you mean? We are done? What about the last month?” He thought for a second. “What about Marshal Kean?”

Ashton talked to Drake directly, “Apparently, you managed to impress the marshal with your spirit, if not your skills. He had been told only days prior that there would be a forced graduation soon and he felt that we were not ready. That explains why he acted so aggressively the last few days at least. After your fight with him he said, and I quote, ‘If every man in this squad is as hopeless as this man, then I declare this hopeless lot to be qualified.’”

Drake grunted, “That doesn’t sound like praise.”

Ashton shrugged, “You should take it as such. Anyway, we won’t see him again; he had been called away suddenly for another post, probably one he will like better. You know Drake,” he said softly. “I think he was just getting desperate in the end because he didn’t think we were ready. He wanted us to be as prepared as possible for the real battlefield. In his own way, he really did care about our wellbeing.”

Drake rolled over to see Ashton directly. “Lies,” He said after a moment. “That guy is a monster and I hope he finds his just end at the point of a spear.”

Ashton shrugged, “Unlikely, he could take out a whole company of men without breaking a sweat, I’ll bet. I am glad he is in our army.” Drake didn’t respond so Ashton continued, “Not much else is known at the moment. We have had this last day off as rest before we get sent away. I have been hoping you would wake soon, I doubt our new officer will take kindly for waiting on a wounded man. By the way, I volunteered to look after you while the rest of them got to go out with Hairly, I have missed out on a great deal I am sure. You can barely hear them talking out there, but I am sure it is more exciting than waiting on a dead man.”

Drake scowled, “Don’t lie to me, I know the only reason you stayed here was so you could finish your flute. Not that you would be successful this time anyway. How many flutes have you gone through?”

Ashton smiled, continuing to look at his creation, “Not enough, I do not think this one will end up being useable either.” He held up the flute to his eyes and sighed, “We do not know why we are graduating early, some theories speak of a disaster in the city that we are needed for, other theories say that we simply have learned all the materials already and there is no point to keep us here. Personally,” Ashton said frankly. “I think the former is more likely. This is all speculation anyway. But I’ll bet,” he looked at Drake seriously. “That what we find out there will be no better than what we have here.”

Drake paused at his words. “You believe we are going straight to the battlefield?”

“We were going to go straight to the battlefield after we had graduated normally, right?” Ashton answered. “I mean, we are conscripts to begin with, why would that change now? I believe that all that has happened is that the need for soldiers became more urgent. And whatever caused that cannot be good.”

Drake blinked silently, considering the information. Ashton let the silence come in and continued with his flute as Drake digested the news.

“It’s just so sudden,” Drake said. “I knew we were heading for the battlefield, but it always felt like that day was still ages away. Who knew that four months could change me so much? If you’ll believe it, I had stopped thinking about escape a long time ago.”

Ashton looked up and said, “Yes, we have changed much. But there is time now to think, isn’t there? I see no angry Marshal coming up behind us, no forced worship with Hairly, no hundred other things that took away our time an energy. Now there is peace and quiet that I almost forgot existed, and also energy. I too, have been too exhausted to consider home lately.” He sighed almost imperceptibly. “Perhaps that is a form of indoctrination too, to make us too busy and tired to think about whom we are and what is important for us.”

Drake knew that Ashton was feeling guilty about having forgotten him people, if only for a second. Drake comforted him saying, “Your songs hold as much memory for them as any whole day of contemplation. You never stopped singing, did you? We haven’t changed that much yet, escape is not outside of my hope, nor should it be yours.”

Ashton countered, “Do you think we will have any more opportunity out there than in here?”

“Absolutely,” Drake said with conviction. “If we get set with a harvesting patrol like the one that got us, it would be a simple matter of slipping away in the night. Nobody would suspect that two indoctrinated soldiers would ever run away, they have no kind of security set up for it!”

Ashton rolled his eyes at Drake but smiled. “Your spirit will be enough for both of us I’m sure. Let’s pretend for the moment we will not be simply sent out with the rest of the new recruits to be used as fodder for the enemy.”

Drake quieted down, “You think that will be what will happen?”

Ashton shrugged. “Perhaps not. But it seems likely to me. We are still far from being fully trained, what use would they have for soldiers like us? Conscripted foreigners from the wilderness will not have the same standing in the army as the natives; the marshals have made that clear to us. We are like captured slaves, except we are willing now.”

Drake pondered what Ashton said then slapped the wall and spoke, “At least we made it through training, though! Who knew? Let’s try not to think about that and consider what we have accomplished. If I had been told what we were going to go through at the beginning I wouldn’t have believed we would have survived. But we did! Remember our promise at the beginning that we would survive? I still plan on keeping that promise, but we just past the first obstacle. We need to celebrate, Ashton!”

“I am afraid you missed the celebration, Drake,” Ashton grinned back, his spirit returning. “It was yesterday while you were sleeping. Don’t worry though; we had a good enough time without you.”

Drake recoiled in horror, “You all celebrated without me? That’s cold, Ashton! Where’s my party food?”

“Actually,” Ashton said pulling out a sack. “Its right here, we saved some for you.”

Drake’s eyes grew big when he saw it. It was just normal food, but Drake was suddenly ravenous. “YES!” he said sincerely sitting up and ignoring his headache. He took the food and ate it heartily.

“Are we forgiven now?” Ashton asked dryly, picking up his flute again. Drake nodded emphatically between bites. “What a celebration.” Ashton continued sarcastically.

Suddenly a head poked through the dormitory door. Heath said with excitement plastered on his face, “Ashton, we have news!”

Ashton beckoned him in, there was a similar bandaged around his neck as Drake. He saw Drake awake and jumped excitedly, “Drake! You’re awake! Have you heard the news?”

“Yes, yes,” Ashton replied for Drake as he choked on his bread trying to answer him. “He heard the old news, what’s the new news?”

But Heath was more concerned about Drake and his bread problems and he took the opportunity to say to him, “Thank you so much for saving me, Drake! I wish I saw your fight with the marshal, I bet you were marvelous. What a monster he is! I am sorry you ended up like this.”

Drake tried to wave him off still trying to clear his esophagus. His eyes watered which Heath perhaps thought was strong emotions and Heath continued to press his feelings of gratitude and his apologies to Drake.

Annoyed, Ashton slapped Drake on the back, saving his life, and barked at Heath, “Stop dawdling and tell me the news! I didn’t volunteer to sit with Drake so I could be last to hear what was happening!”

“Right,” Heath said straightening up when he sensed that Drake was alright. “The officers from the city have arrived and gave us orders. As of now, our unit is part of 2003rd Scouting legion. We will be leaving within the day to take up our positions within the military, topside.”

Drake cut in, his voice a little raspy, “Did they say why all this is happening so early?”

“Yes,” Heath responded. “Yes, they said something about a Defensive Mandate that had put all available troops in readiness, including the ones like us.” He held his hands out in front of him and illustrated. “He had one of these orders that shatters after you read them. It was wonderful to see! There were some important sounding words in the orders, but you will have to ask Vanyer what they meant. He is good about that kind of things.”

Drake pressed him, “We are leaving today for the topside?”

“Yes!” Heath replied, hardly able to contain his enthusiasm, he slapped his knee in excitement. “And we have been given active posts along with the rest of Kami’s forces. We will be real soldiers!” Drake felt a deep sense of foreboding and his stomach crawled. Heath finished triumphantly. “We are being stationed as part of the Frontline!”