Chapter 6: Soldat

Wincing in pain, the Prince awoke with a start. He immediately sat up and rubbed his sore back, which was battered by resting on the stone flooring. A faint, but still noticeable rancid odor also permeated the still air, a mix of mildew and rotting flesh. Myriad thoughts and questions arose in his mind as he switched from thinking about his physical situation to his geographical location. Lancing had no recollection as to how he got here and only the painful bruise he could feel pulsing on the side of his head gave any indications as to why that would be the case. The last he could remember was speaking to the mysterious man from the ambush and then everything went dark. Between then and now, his dream during his unconsciousness felt vivid in his mind, but the memory of it began to fade as he looked to evaluate his surroundings.

Similar to the flooring, the walls were also lined in a simple, tiled stone and held no decorations or embellishments to spruce up the room. The ground was barren with no furniture, but to Lancing’s relief, it was much smoother than the rugged wall. Lancing recoiled at the thought of laying atop a surface as jagged as the wall, so there was some solace in the fact that the architect intended the room to have somewhat livable conditions. The emptiness of the room was a temporary situation, he hoped. Currently, the room lacked any illumination so the finer details escaped his eyes, but he could see a door on the opposite wall without any light penetrating beneath its frame. ‘No point in delaying the inevitable,’ Lancing thought. Putting his hands on the ground, he raised himself with stiff legs and moved to open the door.

His hand touched the cold knob of the door and with an easy twist, the door unlatched and swung open. At first, Lancing had thought that the light was sourced from torches which could be found along the walls of most dungeon areas like the one he was in. However, the cool light gave itself away as being a spawned illumination from magic. He wasn’t exactly surprised since he knew the strength of his captors, but he now more keenly understood what kind of place he was. Compared to the muffled silence in his room, he could hear loud bustling from the hallway beyond the turns that blocked his view. It seemed like his room blocked out any of these exterior sounds. This was quite different from his old room in the castle which would capture any ambient noises with its lack of soundproof. From looking at the surrounding walls, it seemed like this certain area was meant to house a large number of people, as there were at least thirty other rooms he expected would be very similar to his own in the hallway.

Closing the door behind him, he chose to walk to the left as the sounds of activity were much louder. His footsteps echoed on the walls as his shoes clapped upon contact with the stone beneath. One room at least ten down from his own had its door open wide as the individual inside must have left it open in his carelessness. The room also lacked proper furnishings, but a cheap bedroll lay on the floor in one of the corners with a locked chest occupying another. The slim, decrepit figure inside searched through his belongings in the chest, which only amounted to a few. Panic was evident in his every movement and the expression upon his face was covered in fear. He began to throw torn rags from the worn chest with his blue, webbed hands around the room, but his scaled shoulders slumped in depression.

Moving once more, Lancing ignored what he suspected was an aquatic creature. It seemed they happened upon a tragic turn of fate, but Lancing did not have the freedom to indulge himself in another’s problems. More doors along the hallway were gaped open but he only caught glimpses of strange beings in every room. He had never thought of himself as a xenophobe before, but the alien appearances of everyone else broke him into a cold sweat. Perhaps it was a natural fear of the unknown that crept within him.

At last, the Prince reached the end of the hallway, to which another doorway led him to a common area. Tables decorated the area and creatures sat upon their benches as they engaged in conversation and frequent humor. An occasional tree that looked to have been taken straight from the forest was placed here and there to give the stone room some life. Not everyone was in high spirits as a few individuals walked with bowed heads and sorrowful faces. The most common attire worn by the people in the room were rags that could hardly be called clothes, but they at least covered the undesirables. However, a large portion still wore normal clothes and even gear that outfitted soldiers or magi. These people looked to fare far better in the environment and casually spent gold on drinks and food while the more unfortunate could only look on with envy.

Connected to the common room by way of large gateways were various amenities of the hall. A basic shop for goods and services was through one of the entrances, but another store to its side had irregular objects on display that were locked in display cases. Some looked like the usual swords or staves Lancing remembered back on Earth, but others looked to be orbs and books. All of them made for a diverse group of many different colors and some even gave off a glow onto their surroundings. When Lancing looked above at the sign in front of the store, he was shocked that the language was the same one he had known. Even on Earth, a few different languages existed, but the fact that a place as distant as this shared his own was mysterious. He could see the signage which unceremoniously read, “Class-D: Artifact Store.”

‘Not a very extravagant name, now is it?’ Lancing thought. All of the other various stores also had a similar monotonous naming scheme. “General Goods,” “Cafeteria,” and “Furnishings” were only a few to name and each was prefaced by the label Class-D. Other doors looked like they would lead away from the confinement of the Class-D area as if they each had their specialized zones. The interesting names he read were “Education and Cultivation,” “Mission Assignment and Enlistment,” and “Market.” Lancing trepidation became bemusement as he looked at the surreal scene before him.

“Is this place a school, a mercenary headquarters, or a prison?” he mumbled under his breath.

A melodic voice came from his right, “I would say all of the above. It's quite the sinister operation, really.”

Lancing turned his head to see a man leaning against the wall of the common room. His waist-length, blonde hair looked almost white in appearance, matching the pale color of his skin. The shroud of hair helped to mask the sharp features of his face that were off-putting to Lancing’s style of beauty, but the pointed ears dragged his eyes away.

The Prince lost all manners for a moment as he blurted aloud, “Are you an elf?”

Eyes widened, the elf asked curiously, “Yes, is that such a surprise? You can find thousands of us here as we are fairly common, both in Soldat and the many worlds beyond.”

It was only then that Lancing took a better look at the other. The clothes he wore were of superior quality compared to the average of what he’s seen thus far and befitted someone of magical nature. Although the robe was a dull brown, the cloak was fitted well and covered all the vital areas in its tough leather. His appearance also looked quite youthful, which Lancing guessed to be in his mid-twenties, but this estimation was unreliable as the elves were known for their longevity.

His confusion still not alieved, Lancing asked, “Soldat? Is that the name of this place?”

A look of understanding flashed across the elf’s face, “Ah, you must be one of the Taken, I assume. Complete disorientation, lack of awareness, and very-close minded. We see it often in Class-D abducted from the smaller worlds.” Understanding became pity as the elf realized the situation of the other. “So which planet are you from? You look to be human, but you have those odd scales beneath your eyes.”

Now it was Lancing’s turn to feel bemused, “These scales are what make me human. They are a trademark of our kind on Earth and are as natural as the air we breathe. As for an elf like you, I’ve only heard of your kind in fables and stories.”

“Your planet is named Earth?” The elf stopped the laugh from leaving his mouth, but couldn’t obscure his humorous smile. “Pretty generic to name your world after the term for its ground. Still, it sounds like a curious planet with an interesting subset of humans, far from the likes of Alfheim. So, what do they call you?”

The Prince felt a little frustrated at the wide breadth of knowledge the elf seemed to have about the universe beyond while he knew almost nothing. Just when he grew inquisitive about one topic, the other would move on without notice, revealing new information to send his mind into disarray. He responded, “They call me Lancing, but isn’t it quite rude to not introduce yourself first.”

The same smile never left the elf’s face he spoke, “Ah! Indeed, where is my courtesy! They call me Elute, a previous denizen of Alfheim and bard by trade, though I’ve taken up spellcasting in my spare time.” In jest, he mimicked the same enunciation as Lancing. Elute moved the hair fallen onto his face behind his ear as he extended his hand. “Pleased to meet you.”

Lancing looked at the hand and then at the person it belonged to. In those ocean blue eyes, he couldn’t see a trace of malice or deception. Taking the first step of trust, the Prince grabbed the other’s gentle hand with a firm grip. He then said, “Pleased to meet you as well.”

♢ ♢ ♢

Elute spent the next couple of hours teaching Lancing about common knowledge and the various amenities spread throughout Soldat. Originally an academy for the teaching of magic and the various body strengthening arts, a thousand or so years ago they expanded to a sort of mercenary company. Their students would be able to take jobs for the extra cash or even stay with the school as alumni to gain access to higher-level missions and even receive preferential treatment in the academy. Often they would become teachers and spread their knowledge to the next generation of students. As time went on, the respectable academy grew more and more ruthless in their treatment of students to counter the problem of the ever-growing enrollment and lack of talent. Class-D was an example of the lowest group of students and they were expected to have no future in the field of magic. Many of them became servants to the other students and teachers for money they needed to survive, but the high costs of living and tuition forced them to live in poverty. They couldn’t leave the academy easy either, as contracts were set in place to keep them there, not to mention the high cost to leave the world the academy based itself on.

When Lancing mentioned the group who had abducted him, Elute seemed to recognize a few as teachers he had in the past. It didn’t surprise the other as tales of the Taken were common, so much so that they even gave them the simple title. Those on sensitive missions would have two options when dealing with witnesses: kill them or bring them back. The first was much simpler and by far the most common occurrence as it was a hassle bringing back every person who saw them. However, some chose the second option as they would reap certain benefits for bringing back a free student, especially so if they served the academy well. As if an afterthought and without any change in expression, Elute explained that the Taken were in essence slaves of the academy.

As for how the academy functioned, the school was fairly lenient in regards to what the students chose to do, as long as the tuition was paid. Luckily for Lancing, he was not required to pay tuition as one of the taken, but would instead need to labor for the school. While he was weak, he would dust off shelves and work at the general store. When he became stronger, missions could take the place of his required labor. The prince wasn’t afraid of a little work if it meant his safety, but what worried him was the part where he was supposed to become stronger. He only stayed silent as Elute continued.

Classes would be held on the academic grounds, a part of the campus that took up the largest area. Thousands of classrooms were spread about there and teachers would teach those who attended the concepts and practical application of the magics they outlined in their course descriptions. The whole system was organized by a central body, so students could easily plan out what time of the day they would attend lectures and how they could make the most of their experience at Soldat. Lancing perked up after hearing about the academic operations of the academy and forced his desire for knowledge down to concentrate on his conversation with Elute for a little longer.

The two went to the cafeteria where Elute paid for Lancing’s meal for the day since he lacked the funds to any himself. A nutritious slab was placed on his tray. What could only be described as a slab of nutrients, this was the cheapest meal on the menu that could sustain the individuals who lived here in a healthy way. Its popularity was high amongst the poorer students. Also, since it tasted plain and wasn’t made of anything specific, it could be applied to most of the student’s diets. Much like its unappetizing appearance, the loaf was difficult to keep down but at least he wouldn’t starve for the day.

Elute spoke between bites about the other functions of the academy, “Thankfully, I’ve reached the point where I can take missions rather than organizing the thousands of books in the library. Students call those grounds of the campus ‘the Headquarters’ as it is quite a militant area. An entire army is stationed there and routinely practices for combat and goes out on missions in the name of Soldat.” The elf paused as he struggled to swallow a rather tasteless piece of nutrient load. With a swig of water, he said, “Some of those smaller and less important missions fall onto the students of the academy. You are restricted to your level of ability, of course, but simple missions like heading to the surface and completing local missions or even heading to other planets are all possible.”

At the mention of ability, Lancing asked, “I’ve noticed your power is around the level of Viscount so what are the typical missions you can take?”

In response to his question, the difference in the duo’s knowledge once again showed itself. “Viscount? That term isn’t much used nowadays as it is way too specific for such a low level. I’m just assigned the rank of a third-level Trainee. As for what missions I can take, they are the usual creature exterminations, dungeon delves, and escorts. Nothing excessive for what I can feasibly do.”

On this topic, Lancing and Elute discussed a little deeper. According to Lancing’s understand, Lords, Barons, and Viscounts were magi of considerable strength, but in the eyes of the rest of the universe, they were all lumped together as Trainees. Counts to Marquis held the titles of Novice as they had truly taken the first step to power. Those ahead of them were labeled as Apprentice Magi and were equal to Dukes and the all-powerful Archdukes of Earth. Lancing also inquired about the rank his father occupied and Elute was surprised Lancing hailed from such a powerful mage. Although the antiquated terms of King and Emperor had long lost meaning, they still held power in most of the Minor World and would be well-off in the major ones. In terms of rank, they were described as Adept Magi. Lancing wondered how his father who showed god-like ability could only be at the rank of Adept, but he held his tongue for the moment.

As the night dragged on, others began to leave the common room to rest for the night. Others would stay for the rest of the night as they had only awoken hours ago due to their off-cycle circadian rhythm, but the different races all had differing abilities when it came to energy expenditure and sleep. As for Lancing, he felt strangely exhausted after only being awake for these past few hours. Perhaps it was due to the enormous upheaval of all that Lancing knew, but his mental energy had run out of its reserves. He went back to the dormitory along with Elute who planned to meditate for a few hours. Lancing was envious towards the fact that elves only needed to relax to replenish energy compared to humans who had to undergo a long period of unconsciousness.

Elute walked Lancing to the steps that separated half of the hallway the latter’s room resided in. “I enjoyed your company, Lancing. Hopefully, that cleared the air for you a little. We always try to help the Taken whenever possible, you poor bastards.” Once more, that pitiful expression took residency on Elute’s face.

Lancing felt uncomfortable at the thought that he was a pitiful creature so he merely gave a nod in response. Elute must have picked up on this as he turned to the side and put his first foot up the stairs, “Then this is farewell for now. I’ll see you around.” After walking a few steps more, he turned around to Lancing as if he forgot something and said, “And do try not to die. I’d hate to see another friend lost to Soldat.”

With that, the elf left Lancing’s vision as he moved further up the floors of the lodging building. The Prince mulled over the last few words they exchanged before heading back to his room. He almost forgot which room was his own as most were not decorated and had no indication of who lived in each room. After walking back into the pitch-black room, he went to one of the corners and laid once more on his back. The hard stone was cold beneath his body, but it was somewhat comforting in a way. He had a bad premonition about the coming few days, so he enjoyed this moment of solitude. Without any bedding or covers, Lancing’s consciousness began to fade, slipping once more into another world.