“This should taste better,” Seth Ryall grumbled, staring down at the mostly empty cup of thick red wine he’d held in his hand. He was seated with two other soldiers at a crusty old table in an orb-lit stuffy war tent on a hill in the middle of a continent. When he’d stepped off the battlefield earlier that day to news of a feast, he’d been looking forward to drinking himself senseless. War was hard on a soldier’s body and twice as hard on the mind without good alcohol. He’d drunk five cups already, pumping them down as fast as he could along with his two of his teammates, but it did nothing to numb his mind or ease his worry of the uncertain days ahead.

The tent was filled with thousands of jubilant soldiers, seated at tables packed with glazed pork, breading, stews, and other delicacies of all flavors. It was all laid out by General Roko, leader of the fifth army of Mormon, as reward for finally pushing back the vampire invaders. With the campaign won and the enemy defeated, Seth and his fellow soldiers could finally leave the borderlands and be reassigned somewhere a little more stable and less life-threatening, but he didn’t want to leave. He’d rather stay if it meant not dealing with the troubles that came after.

“…then I swung my axe and took off the vampire’s head before he knew what hit him, Ah!” the soldier that sat to his left declared and swung hard into Seth, spilling his entire cup on the cuff of his black cotton shirt.

“For fuck sake, Brick, it was my good cotton shirt,” he said to the man, flicking his wrist dry. “I’ll be stuck traveling with a wine stain for weeks.”

“Don’t be too mad. I was just demonstrating,” Brick said with a sheepish grin and made another exaggerated chopping motion. His muscles spilt from his threadbare shirt, and his face was flushed red from the drinking. He had a square stubbly jaw, low cut, blond hair, and soft green eyes. He was Seth’s teammate and his best friend, and after holding his gaze for a while, Seth sighed.

“Bah, it’s fine,” he waved. “Just don’t spill my stew with all your ‘demonstrating.’”

Brick let out an awkward laugh and said, “I think I can manage that.”

Seth snorted, setting his empty cup to his side, and turned his attention to his second company for the night. A bowl of rich vegetable stew with meat. The General’s cook had slaved away nearly a full day preparing food for the feast, and a girl he knew in the kitchens, Gerta, promised the stew was the best. He’d forsaken everything else at the table but the stew.

“Let’s see if you can salvage the night,” he said, lifting a spoonful to his mouth. A small smile crawled on his pink lips after tasting it. It was just what he needed. It’s just like Ellie used to say, good food made everything better. He raised another spoonful to his mouth, but Brick’s loud baritone voice rang out beside him, causing him to cringe and nearly stain his shirt. He turned to Brick again, intending to tell him off, but he’d been completely oblivious to what’d he’d done. The argument he was in drew his full attention.

“Come on, don’t look at me like Sera. It’s the truth, I swear it,” Brick said to a petite woman sitting across from him, eyeing him suspiciously. Sera was the third member of their team and was the straightest of the bunch.

“Bullshit. I know you didn’t, Brick,” Sera snorted.

“Of course, I did,” Brick insisted.

“No, you didn’t!” she slammed both hands on the table, rocking it.

“Hey, both of you, quit it. I’ll kill you if you spill my stew with your squabbling,” Seth yelled, lifting up his bowl, but they ignored him.

“How would you know? You weren’t even there,” Brick said, still holding his easy smile.

“I didn’t need to be,” she huffed, “because it's obvious you’re lying.” Sera emptied the half cup she was holding and topped it off with a jug that sat at the center of the table. “Name one person who was there on the battlefield when you beheaded the vampire?”

Brick blinked, some of the redness leaving his cheeks. “Gimbli,” he said, “he and Parsons. They were with me.” He gestured at two slumbering soldiers who were partly sprawled on a feast table several chairs down. The remainder of their empty cups formed an aromatic lake around their slumbering frames.

“Ah, come on,” she huffed. “You picked the only soldiers who passed out drunk!”

Brick shrugged. “It’s what happened, believe it or not. If they were awake, they would retell the struggle in glorious detail.”

Seth saw Brick try and fail to stop his urge to grin. He’d earned recognition on the battlefield among knights and the leadership against the vampire hoards earlier that day, and he was edging for an even bigger win that night. Knowing Brick, his strategy against Sera was simple: annoy her until she folded. At least someone is enjoying themselves tonight, he thought.

Brick took a slow and satisfying sip from his large wooden mug and spoke.

“I would have taken a souvenir like a piece of armor or something, but you know how sensitive vampires are about their dead. Some shadow mage waved his hands, and the body turned to smoke before I could touch it,” he gestured with an exaggerated poof and tried not to look too smug.

“How convenient,” she rolled her eyes. “I still don’t think you could behead a fucking vampire. Even knights have trouble taking them down.”

“What can I say? I’m strong,” he winked and kissed his bicep, causing her to groan in exasperation.

“Seth, you know this oaf much better than I do,” she said. “What do you think he could pull it off?”

Brick frowned, “there’s no need for name-calling.”

Seth took a long look at Sera as he briefly considered it. She had fair skin, long blond hair, and intense blue eyes that stared deep into his, though she was partly drunk. She wore a navy blue shirt that hung loosely on her modest frame, and a silver rosary sat on her modest bust.

“Leave me out of your squabbling, both of you,” Seth said finally, swallowing a spoonful of stew. They were both drunk and boneheaded. Their argument would never end if he joined in.

“Come on, Seth!” Sera said. “Pick a damn side. You know I’m right.”

Seth only grumbled at her and sank deeper into his chair. He tried shoveling another spoonful of stew, but before his wooden spoon broached the stew, a fast hand snatched it from him.

“Uvu’s tit’s, Sera,” he roared, climbing up to his feet. He felt the eyes of other soldiers fix on him, but he didn’t care. “Can’t you leave me alone? I just want to eat in peace.”

“You weren't listening to me,” Sera complained, letting the wooden dance between her fingers.

“Maybe, it’s because I didn’t want to be bothered by your ridiculous argument,” Seth said.

“Well, I don't care! The night is long. You can eat later. What did you think?” She stared at him expectantly.

After four years of dealing with her, he knew he wasn’t getting his spoon back-- not without a fight-- but he was not looking to undo the good work that the healing priests of Uvu had done by mending his wounds. He’d spent nearly all evening at the battle. He let out a long sigh and sat back down, resigning himself to a long night of drunken argument. At least it would distract him.

He reached for the wine jug sitting at the center of the table, topped off of his cup, and took a long sip.

“Well, don’t keep us waiting, Seth. What do you think?”

“You don’t have to answer. She’s just fishing for support,” Brick said with only a slight panic in his voice.

“No, I’ll talk,” he said and cast a long appraising eye at Brick, letting his eyes travel from his large veiny arms to his barrel-sized midsection before turning to Sera. “Maybe. He might be telling the truth, or maybe he’s lying. Does it really matter?"

“Of course it does!” she said. “I am right, and he is lying.” She pointed an accusatory finger at Brick. “There is no way he’d survive a blow from a vampire knight, much less behead one, even if a knight had loosened him up. They’re just too strong.”

Seth simply shrugged and drank more from his cup. He frowned when he noticed that the jug that sat between them was near-empty. He didn’t think he could survive any more of the argument without good wine.

“What’s going on with you,” Sera demanded. “You’d usually be backing me up by now, telling me how brilliant I am.” Her words squeezed a slight smile from Seth’s lips.

“Maybe he’s just sick of your whining like I am,” Brick chimed in with a raucous laugh.

“What is on your mind, Seth?” she asked again, ignoring the giant.

“I’m just in the partying mood,” he said, letting his attention drift back to his cup.

“What do you mean you’re not in the partying mood?” she said. “We are at a feast, Seth. We’ve finally won and can leave the borderlands. With any luck, we’ll be reassigned to a nice coastal city or somewhere safer.”

“It’s not like that,” Seth said, quickly looking up to Sera. “I just have…things on my mind.”

“What ‘things’?” She demanded with a frown.

Seth grabbed both edges of his cup and said with some hesitation. “Judgement is two weeks from now, you know. With the fighting as serious as it was, I thought the General was going to postpone sending us to Brightmont. ”

“This again?” she sighed. “You needn’t worry, Seth. We’ll get what we’re owed.” Sera filled her cup with the last of the wine and leaned deeper into the table as she spoke. “You've followed orders from the General as best as you could, trained harder than most knight candidate, and killed more half-bloods in the name of the Gods than even the 'vampire beheader’ over here,” she waved at Brick, who huffed at the jab, “and he’s twice your size. The gods are unfair, but they reward talent and devotion,” she palmed a silver rosary with an inverted triangle that hung from her neck out of habit. She’d worn for almost as long as he’d known her. “You’ll be rewarded with your full set of runes, and so will everybody else on this team,” she declared and drank deeply from her cup.

It was every Lowborn’s dream to become a noble knight of one of the six gods and serve the Mormon Empire. The runes allowed its bearers to wield elemental magic like Blessed ones of old. Becoming a knight was not all about honor. The title afforded you wealth, power, and even land a chance to start a noble household if you served long enough, but few soldiers ever became knights.

Hundreds of farmhands and serving girls joined one of five armies of the Mormon empire each year, hoping to impress the General and his council with their skill and wit. Only the most promising recruits received the prestigious title of knight candidates and were granted the opportunity to kneel before the gods and church and ask for a blessing of runes in ceremonial Judgement of their achievements.

Serving at the borderlands fighting back hoards of half-blood abominations and vampires was the fastest way to gather achievement and merit for judgement, but very few chose this path. Few make it past their first battle, and fewer survived till the end of their first year. And yet Seth and two of the three other members of the Raven sat there in the war tent after four hard years of service.

He was all but guaranteed runes, yet the thought of travelling to the capital, climbing the stairs of the Cathedral and kneeling before each of the high priests of the six gods terrified him. What if all six gods decided everything I’ve done was not enough? After what happened to his sister after her first judgement, anything was possible.

“You don’t get it,” Seth said. “Ellie and I will be carted off to some marshy, fog-soaked town close to the borderland for years if the gods are not ‘impressed’ by our contributions.” He took a sip from his cup. Ellie was their leader and the last member Raven, and she was absent from the feast. She was off on some last-minute scouting mission, doubtlessly trying to curry extra favor with the General even at the last second.

“The last time Ellie was called for judgement, she got only a single rune,” he said, gesturing wildly to Brick and Sera, the emotions finally spilling out of him. “A single fucking rune. Four years of sleeping in tents, fighting off endless hordes of vampiric monstrosities and watching our closest friends die only to be denied when you’re so close. You can’t imagine what that could do to you.”

“You’ll get us in trouble with that big mouth of yours,” Brick nudged him hard. “Even though most of the knights and leadership are far away, they can hear us, you know. Magical hearing and everything.” He pointed at his ears.

Seth snorted at his friend, “That is not how that works…I think. Besides, being a half-baked knight is a death sentence. Ellie was assigned to Copeland, one of the farthest places from the front, but I’ll probably won’t be as lucky. I’m sure I’ll end up in one of those resupply towns and get murdered by a raiding vampire knight looking to blow off steam.”

“You are being dramatic, Seth,” Sera said. “What happened to your sister does not happen to borderland soldiers. Getting sent out here is horrible as is. Besides, the gods aren’t in the habit of making half knights. There are fewer half-baked knights than there are Border towns, which is saying a lot, since they’ve all been nearly wiped out.”

“That’s because half-baked knights are getting wiped out along with those towns,” Seth said. “Powerful people do what they want, Sera, and that includes the gods. I wouldn’t expect you to understand. You’re the daughter of Aham Seno. Your father can buy your way out of the army. For low borns like my sister and me, this might be the end of us.”

Sera's face twisted at his words, and she stared daggers at him, but he was too worried to care. It was the truth. Sera came from the Seno Merchant house, the 10th largest supplier of potions in Brightmont. She had more coin than she knew what to do with. She didn’t have to be here.

Brick took a break from his mug to smack him behind his head. “Just because you’re drunk doesn’t mean you get to disrespect her,” he said with a mean look.

“Ow,” Seth grumbled. “I’m not drunk,” he said, but then he remembered how many cups he’d had and admitted it. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to….”

“I understand how you feel, Seth,” Sera said with a stiff smile. “Every soldier feels the same way. The knight candidate program is a farce. A quick way of filling the army’s ranks whenever the army needs fresh recruits. You’d think that after 300 years, people would know better.”

“It still worked on us, didn’t it,” Brick laughed. “It might be a dirty trick, but the Empire never lied. Five hundred candidates are chosen by a General every year, and only thirty or so ended up with runes. Most take a spear to the chest before their fourth year, but a few are even worse off than half-baked knights and receive no runes at all. We all knew the chances before enlisting.” Brick never hid from the realities of war. He was a gutter rat from Brightmont. He was used to the ugliness.

“It doesn’t make it any less wrong,” Seth said, “and it certainly doesn’t help that the selections aren’t fair, even at the front where the chances are supposed to be the highest. Knight candidates from noble houses always get runes first, and you know it. I know you’ll argue that they’re just better fighters because they’ve been trained better, but you know what I’m talking about.”

Both of his teammates looked at him with some concern, but he knew he was right. He’d had a lot of time to think, especially during a scouting mission this past year when he worked with actual Knights and talked to them.

“It’s like the gods or priests favor them more. There’s a fucking hierarchy to it,” he said. “Below the nobles, it’s the merchant house. Then down at the very bottom, there’s us. Talented low borns who learned to fight long before we joined the army. Do you really think they’ll trust mercenaries and cut-throats with divine power?”

“Hogwash,” Brick said, shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter. Judgement has always been about merit and loyalty, not your past.” Brick's past was no secret. He’d put a lot of people in the ground before he became a soldier. “All four knights from last year came from merchant houses,” he continued.

“But what about two years ago, or the year before that?” Seth countered. “When was the last time you heard of a Low born knight?”

Brick scrunched his brow in thought, and so did Sera. There was a brief silence between them before Sera finally answered. “Mysaline is low born, and she became a knight three years back,” she said. “She was an amazing Igrit knight. She’s sitting right at the table over there,” she pointed to a young woman seated at the high table, reserved for Knights. She had a burn scar on her left cheek and laughed when the man next to her told a joke.

“There’s only 15 of us left in our set, Seth,” Sera folded her arms, leaning deeper into the table. “Who else are the gods going to choose?”

He didn’t have an answer for that. The more he thought about it, the less rational his fear seemed, but he knew he wasn’t overreacting.

“My sister must have thought the same, and there were only ten survivors in her year,” Seth said slowly. “Look, I’m not saying we’re not getting runes. All I am saying is I don’t think Ellie can handle another poor Judgement.” He feared for his fate but cared about his Sister’s even more. Failing to receive her runes changed her, hardened her heart. After everything she’d done to keep the team alive so far on her second tour, she’d be devastated if the six gods thought her achievements were inadequate.”

Sera reached over and squeezed his hand. “Ellie is our leader and is wiser and a better fighter than anyone seated here,” Sera said, with a clear adoration in her voice. “She’s led us to complete hundreds of missions since we formed the Raven squad, and I am sure the gods see just how valuable she really is. If any commoner in the whole army is getting a full set of runes, it's her.”

Her words did nothing to soothe his worries, but he gave a strained smile and nodded either way. “You’re right, I suppose.” If good wine hadn’t helped, he reckoned nothing would. There was nothing to do but wait and hope the gods didn’t fuck them. She held onto his hand for a little too long and quickly pulled away when he stared into her eyes.

“Wiser and stronger than all of us combined?” Brick said to Sera with a wide grin, suffusing the quiet tension that had built up between them. “You were laying it on a little thick, don’t you think? I wonder what Ellie would say when she hears you. “If any commoner in the whole army is getting it, it’s her?” he said it in his best Sera impression, but it all came out as grunts and throaty whisperings.

“You wouldn’t dare!” Ellie lopped an empty jug they’d emptied earlier. When he dodged that, she climbed over the table and chased after him. Seth laughed out loud as he watched them bicker, and he fetched his lone spoon that Sera had abandoned when she began the chase. He smiled down at his stew that still miraculously remained mostly unspilled through the climb and took a spoonful.

“I’m sure she’ll find your ridiculous posturing even more ridiculous,” Brick yelled over as he weaved past a tackle. They were stirring up the tent, but they didn’t seem to care. Brick was surprisingly agile for his size, and Sera growled as she chased after him.

Ellie and Sera had an unspoken rivalry they’d been nursing for four years now. Sera thought Ellie was full of herself since she’d served before, and Ellie thought Sera was a privileged brat who didn’t realise how good she had it. Seth thought they were both right and equally as obnoxious, but neither seemed to care for his opinion.

Sera tried her hardest at everything they did to prove herself to Ellie. And his sister, for the most part, didn’t really bother. She had more important things on her mind. They both did. What little joy he’d found drained out of his face, and he shoved his plate aside and rubbed his temples.

“Fuck,” he said, letting out a deep sigh, and both Brick and Sera stopped near-instantly and returned to the table.

“Chin up, Seth,” the giant swung his hand around his shoulder as he settled in. “I’m low born too. If you’re getting half runes, I probably am too. Who knows, we might end up in the same small town. Between you, me, and Ellie, I think we can take a few half-bloods and blight ghouls,” he said, only partly joking.

“How can you be so carefree,” Seth shrugged off the giant’s arm, and Brick pulled out the mug Sera had thrown at him from somewhere and slowly filled it up with the last of the wine from the jug. Sera sat across from them, staring at the man incredulously.

“Despite what you might think, I think the odds are in our favor,” he said with a shrug. “Even if we fail to get runes this time, we can always try again in four years,” he said. “We could always also buy our way out of the army before our Oaths released us. No doubt, Sera won’t mind putting her considerable wealth to use and aid us,” he winked at Sera. Every soldier took an oath when they enlisted, promising the army seven full years of dedicated service in exchange for a considerable amount of gold upon completion of their oaths, free healing from the clergy, as well as other interesting rewards. You could relinquish your oath at any point and leave the army, but the ritual had to be carried out by a Mage, and they were terribly expensive.

She snorted. “I am as dirt poor as you are. My father cut me off when he sent me down here. I don’t have some secret stash hidden away.”

“No, you’re not,” Brick said, with a sudden edge to his voice, “and stop pretending like you are. You’re here until your rich father bails you out.”

“You know nothing about my family,” Sera said.

“I know you’re all ridiculously rich. I know you’ve never really been hungry a day in your life.”

“How dare you!” Sera said with a scathing voice, and Brick glared right back, but before he could speak, Seth intervened.

“You’re both clearly drunk and very upset. So, instead of saying things, you’ll need to apologise for when you’re both sober. Why not let the matter die here? I’d hate to have to deal with your argument on top of worrying about something I can’t change.”

Bricks sniffed and emptied his cup. He took one look at the jug in front of him and said to no one in particular, “We need more wine,” and climbed out of his seat.

“He’s sorry, you know,” Seth said, watching the giant lug around, muttering something.

“I know,” Sera said.

“It’s not easy to forget,” he chewed on his words for a bit, “How rich you are.”

“How rich my family is, you mean.” she corrected. “None of that money is mine anymore. I’m dirt poor until I become a knight.”

Seth looked at Sera and took a moment to really take her all in. He looked at her spindly yellow hair, freckled face, dark eye bags, and dimples. Her silver rosary stood out from her blue shirt. She picked up religion after making it into the knight program in her first year of service, and it changed her for the better.

She’d prayed to the Sun God, Uvu, the night before the General released his selection list, and when her name was among the first fifty-- several positions below him and Ellie--she knew he heard her. Her daily devotionals and prayers made her less jittery and more precise on scouting missions and open battles, but she also got less sleep.

“What are you thinking about,” she asked with an inquisitive smile.

“I forget how hard you have it...how hard being a knight candidate can sometimes be.”

She laughed and rested her chin in her palm. “The sleepless night, camping in the fog, and fighting at the frontlines along with snot-nosed nobles… I will certainly not miss it. I look forward to being stationed at Grechit or somewhere nicer.” She palmed her rosary. It was a habit of hers.

“You are certainly sure of yourself. I wish I had that much...faith.”

She noted his meaning and sat up, suddenly conscious. “Honestly, I have no more guarantee of a favorable judgement than you do, Seth. But what is done is done. There’s no use worrying. We’ve fought all that battles we could. The rest is left to the Church and the gods.”

He mulled over her words for a minute and resisted the urge to pick it apart. She would no doubt make it. She was the daughter of a powerful merchant family, and she had a significant pull with the local priests. Judgement was never about merit. His sister had fought at the borderlands for nearly a decade, and she might never gather enough merit in the eyes of the gods. I guess it’s our fault for not going to the temple tent more, then.

Seth drew in a long deep breath and slowly exhaled, putting the matter to rest a second time that night. It was too late to change anything now, and all the worrying did him no good.

“What is done is done,” he said, and Sera nodded at him in approval. “I suppose the only thing we can do is wait for Brick and get drunk.”

And for a while, that is what they did. They teased each other and ate the last of Seth stew together, sharing a spoon. Brick reappeared just as Sera emptied her wine cup, with three full jugs in each hand.

“Let me give you a hand with that,” Sera said, plucking a single jug from the giant's hand and abandoning him to deal with the rest. She filled her cup, then Seth’s.

“I could use more help,” Brick said, raising a brow.

“I’m sure you could,” she said and took a long sip from her cup.

“I’ll help,” Seth got up and pulled two cups from the giant’s chest. “Where did you find all this wine anyway?”

“I started with Alvar’s and Evon’s, and the rest came from the nobles,” he said with a mischievous grin.

“How did you manage to swipe it under their noses?” Seth said, eyeing the wine and drawing a deep breath in. It smelt better than everything he’d tasted all night.

“They hardly noticed. Most of them were sick of it. Probably used to having the stuff,” Brick shrugged.

“Well, their loss,” Seth said.

Together they set the jugs on the table and proceeded to nearly empty all of them, drinking far more than they should.

“Good wine does really make everything better,” Seth remarked with a long satisfied sigh. He had a broad smile on his face, too satisfied to worry about anything else.

“That is...does,” Sera said, her words slurring.

“I’m sorry, Sera.” Brick said with a low voice after a bit of silence. His perpetual smile was absent, and he thumbed the edge of his cup with his large fingers. Sera wiped leftover wine from her lips and sat properly to hear him speak.

“I’m not just saying that because I am drunk. I shouldn’t have said what I said.”

Sera gazed at him for a moment too long and then raised a cup to him. “You brought back good wine, Brick. It’s hard to stay mad at you after that.” She flicked her hair to the side with an exaggerated manner and said in a haughty voice. “Besides, what you said is the truth. I’m the daughter of one of the richest people in the Empire. Slumming it with your lot is just temporary.”

Seth broke out into a gut-wrenching laugh, and Brick lips slipped into a wide toothy grin. “Since we’re being honest, talk me up to one of your cousins when you get back.”

“None of them would look at you twice,” she scoffed.

“Come on, now,” Seth said with a smirk. “Give the ‘Beheader’ a chance while you can still get him. He can kill vampire knights with a single swing. Imagine how strong he’ll be when he’s a knight. The Seno merchant house would be lucky to have him.”

Sera snickered at the joke and scrunched her brow in thought for a moment before finally saying, “you just might be right. Which one do you want, Brick? Marcella is nice, but I think Aubery might be too nice for you?”

“The ugliest one,” Brick proudly said and sent both Seth and Sera roaring in laughter.

“Why?” Seth asked, wiping tears from his eyes.

“I’m a realist, Seth,” he started with a shrug and began to explain the other reasons why his choice was perfect. Seth and Sera laughed some more, and all three of them drank long into the night.