by Andrew Rowe
Three rows of twelve – and one row of thirteen - make forty-nine of us, which is nine more than the number that passed the preliminary exams. Some candidates that skipped the preliminaries somehow are possible, but it’s also possible there are some full paladins in here with us as plants to observe our behavior.
Two of the paladins were wearing a dress uniform in the colors of their order. The paladin on the left was male, looked to be in his thirties, and wore the green and brown of Lissari. The emblems on his tunic indicated that he was a Lieutenant. The two other paladins were female.
At the center was a woman who had a young face, but more gray than brown in her hair. Her immaculate dark blue uniform was accented with silver, indicating that she served Sytira, much like Lydia did. Her eyes swept across the candidates, searching, but she gave no obvious tell if she found who or what she was looking for. The addition of two bars and a triangular emblem above pins similar to the Lieutenant’s indicated that she was a full Colonel – a considerably higher rank than Taelien had expected to observe the instruction of mere cadets.
On the right was another woman, the tallest of the three paladins, wearing full armor with a steel grey tabard with the symbol of Koranir emblazoned on the front. Unlike the other two paladins, the Koranir follower took a stance of rigid attention. Her tabard had no symbols of rank, indicating that she was either a rank-and-file paladin or had some reason she preferred not to show her rank.
“At ease,” spoke the woman in the center. One of the candidates to Taelien’s left took an audible breath of relief as the group adjusted into more relaxed positions, but remained in their formation. The speaker’s eyes shifted, seeming to note the lapse, but she made no comment on it. Taelien noted as he adjusted his own stance that the paladin of Koranir remained at attention, even while the candidates did not. He wasn’t clear if that was normal behavior. “I am Colonel Wyndam, and I will be overseeing your tests. Lieutenant Morris will explain the structure of your examinations.”
She gestured to the man at her side, and he nodded and stepped forward.
“For the next three months, you will be tested. You will not always be aware of when you are participating in a test. There are seven primary tests that you will participate in during this time period, each of which corresponds to one of our gods. If at any time your score on one of these tests falls below the acceptable threshold, you will be disqualified from the examinations. If at any time your cumulative score falls below the acceptable threshold, you will also be disqualified. If you are discovered attempting to cheat in the examinations in any way, you will be disqualified and lose any opportunity to retake the examinations in the future.”
Lieutenant Morris paused, examining the crowd, and then spoke again. “If your performance on a test is unsatisfactory, but not low enough to disqualify you completely, you will be issued a red flag. If you are issued two red flags, you will be disqualified. Most candidates that are issued even a single red flag will not have a high enough cumulative score to complete the examination process.”
The lieutenant took a breath, and then continued. “During the course of the examinations, each of you will be assigned to a barracks. An experienced paladin will be overseeing each of the barracks to ensure proper conduct. You will be assigned a uniform, which you will be required to properly maintain and wear for your examinations. You will also be assigned other tasks and responsibilities during the testing time frame. Failure to complete these tasks, or demonstrate proper conduct, will result in being disqualified from the examinations.”
“There are forty-nine of you now. Tradition dictates that of the forty-nine candidates that begin the tests, only seven among you will be selected to join the Paladins of Tae’os during this test. The Arbiter of each branch of paladins will be presented with results of each test and personally select one applicant to honor with a chance to join our order. Those of you who perform well, but are not selected, will be given a chance to skip the preliminary examinations in future years.”
“A schedule of examinations will be posted in your barracks. You will arrive in uniform and on time for each of your examinations, or you will be disqualified. Second Lieutenant Banks will take each of your groups to your new barracks. First row, attention.”
The first row of cadets snapped to attention, although some handled the transition more smoothly than others. Taelien noted that Keldyn Andys was in the first group, along with the Rethri twins Terras and Lysen. Next to them was the tall man in the billowing cloak who called himself “The Wandering War”. Susan Crimson was in the first group as well, but a few people separated her from the others that he recognized.
The paladin of Koranir wordlessly stepped forward, and then gestured with a hand. “First platoon, follow me.” She unceremoniously turned around and began to walk, not waiting for the cadets to respond. They quickly turned and followed her.
Taelien let his mind wander as the group stood waiting for Second Lieutenant Banks to return. The Colonel had turned back to conversation with Lieutenant Morris, and many of the candidates near him seemed to be getting nervous. Velas glanced toward him and raised her eyebrows, but he just gave her a slight shrug, uncertain what she was asking.
Maybe she’s wondering if we’re at a disadvantage for being in the second group? Possible, I suppose, but I doubt it. Have the tests already started? What Colonel Wyndam said was pretty vague.
A quarter of an hour later, Lieutenant Banks returned and ordered Taelien’s group to fall in behind her. They dutifully did so, and Taelien suspected they felt just as grateful to finally be moving as he did.
The walk to the barracks wasn’t far. A uniformed paladin – this one wearing the light gray and blue of Eratar – leaned lazily against the wall next to the barracks door. A rapier and a main gauche sat sheathed against his hips, their brilliantly polished steel pommels standing as a contrast to the obvious creases in his uniform.
“Platoon 2, halt,” Lieutenant Banks called, and Taelien’s group ceased their march and fell into resting at attention. “You could at least try to look professional for the cadets, Lieutenant Torrent.”
The paladin at the door gave an unapologetic shrug and a slight smile. “I keep telling you, call me Garrick. So, I take it these are my new puppies?”
Banks’ lips twitched. “This is Platoon Two. If they are not properly prepared, I am holding you personally responsible.”
With that, she briskly turned ninety degrees to the right and marched off. Lieutenant Torrent shook his head at her as she departed, and then stepped away from the wall.
“Welcome,” he said, gesturing broadly with both hands. “You kids are the lucky ones. You get to work for me.”
In spite of his use of the term ‘kids’, Taelien suspected that Garrick was at least a year or two his junior. And a fan of theatrics. I shouldn’t be surprised, given which branch he belongs to.
“Be at ease. I’m going to take you for a tour of our lovely new home,” he said, gesturing to the door. As the candidates fell out of their marching formation, Garrick turned around and opened the door, stepping into the barracks. The candidates followed him shortly thereafter.
Taelien had lived in other barracks before, during his training under the Thornguard, and this one was little different. There were six sets of bunk beds, each with two large trunks stacked in front of them. It struck him for the first time that there were a mixture of men and women in his platoon – they had been separated during his earlier training. He realized that might have been because of differences between the paladins and the Thornguard, or it might have just been because he had been so much younger the last time he had gone through similar training.
Also, unlike the other barracks he was familiar with, this one had two doors toward the back. Garrick was already walking toward the one on the left. “This is my room. I’m a fairly sound sleeper. If you wake me up and the barracks isn’t on fire, I’ll disqualify you immediately,” he informed the group cheerfully.
“Oh, and with that in mind, pick any beds you want. You each get a trunk. Once we issue your uniforms, you’ll be responsible for keeping those in your trunks when they’re not being used, and keeping them in good condition. If you don’t, well, disqualified!”
He walked over to the second door at the back, knocking on the door. “Chamber pot is in there. Remember to knock.”
He folded his arms, glancing from side to side. “For the next several weeks – assuming you puppies last that long – your first obligation is to each other. Sure, you’ll have individual test scores, but platoon averages will hit all of you. I’m happy to disqualify you one at a time, but when we get to the team tests, you’re going to want as many friends as you can get.”
A moment of silence followed as the candidates looked each other over, most bearing grim expressions.
“Questions? Didn’t think so. Find yourself a bed. Get to know each other.”
Garrick immediately turned and retreated into his own quarters, leaving the second platoon standing around awkwardly by themselves.
Landen immediately sat down on one of the beds closest to the entrance – and thus furthest from the Lieutenant. “You heard the man. We wake him up, we’re done.”
“Yup.” Velas brushed past Taelien and grabbed onto the ladder connected to the bunk bed that Landen was sitting on, hoisting herself up onto the top bunk. She sat with her boots hanging over the side, looking down. “Better find yourself a bunk quick, Sal. Hope you get a good bedmate.”
She gave him an overly obvious wink, and Taelien just sighed and shook his head.
Great. I don’t really know anyone else here.
The other local paladin candidates had ended up in other platoons. He glanced around at the other candidates, who were quickly following Landen’s lead and taking beds as close to the entrance as possible.
The lone Rethri candidate in his group looked marginally familiar, so Taelien approached him first, extending his hand in greeting. “I’m Salaris. Is the other bunk here taken?”
The Rethri hesitated for a moment before clasping him on the wrist, turning his gaze away. “Eridus. Sorry, bed’s taken.”
The swordsman nodded as Eridus swiftly retracted his hand. “No problem. You look a little familiar – you from Selyr or thereabouts?”
“No, sorry. Don’t think I know you.” Eridus took a step back, waving a hand toward the other beds. “Better get one of those before they disappear.”
“Right - thanks anyway. Pleasure to meet you.”
Wonder why he looks so familiar. Blue eyes, which makes him a water sorcerer, I think. Maybe he’s one of Aladir’s friends or relatives? There are so many Ta’thyriels it’s hard to keep track of them all.
By the time Taelien glanced around again, there were only two beds left, and a group of three people standing near the back and discussing them.
Two of the three looked relatively ordinary, a male and a female that looked a few years younger than Taelien, each wearing matching leather armor and a pair of curved short swords. The matching swords and armor might have made Taelien suspect they were related, but they didn’t share any obvious physical characteristics. The girl was a few inches taller than her male counterpart, and she had short, wavy black hair and matching dark eyes. The male was brown skinned and shaved bald, with broad shoulders and thick biceps.
And standing in a sheltered position between the pair was a girl with a cascade of shimmering crystalline strands – each about the width of a finger - that reached from her head down to her knees. She wore a simple grey tunic and pants and observed the other candidates with eyes wide with curiosity.
Taelien approached the group, reaching out to extend a hand to the closer of the two armored figures.
“Stop,” the armored female said. “Do not come so close to the oracle.” Her eyes shifted to Taelien’s sword, narrowing. “You are armed.”
Oracle? That’s an odd title. And why would a Delaren need bodyguards? And human ones, no less?
Taelien carefully took a step back, lifting his open hands. “Sure am. Looks like you’re pretty well equipped, too. I don’t mean you any harm. The name is Salaris.”
“I am Asphodel,” the Delaren girl said, stepping toward him and extending a thin hand as her guards looked on with horrified expressions.
Taelien reached out with his own hand, clasping hers at the wrist. Her skin is cold, he realized. He gave her a warm smile. “Pleasure to meet you. I’ll look forward to working with all three of you.”
He released her wrist, and she smiled brightly in reply. “Thank you. Please forgive my friends, they are unaccustomed to being so close to so many people.”
“Oracle,” the male guard said, “You should remember what your father told you. You expose yourself to danger when you are within weapon reach of a stranger.”
Asphodel turned around, which Taelien absently noted had actually made her more vulnerable – a deliberate gesture? – and stepped back behind the two guards.
“You two are Asphodel’s guards, I take it? You’ve got nothing to worry about from me. I can’t stand hurting people.”
“You should not refer to the oracle in such a familiar fashion,” the female guard said. “You are merely a human.”
“And your words are suspect. One with such disdain for harm would have little motivation to join a military organization,” the male pointed out.
Taelien raised an eyebrow. “You know the paladins of Laos emphasize protecting life at all costs, right? That’s one of the core tenants of the religion.”
The guards looked at each other uncertainly. “Words such as those are little solace to the dead, one-called-Salaris,” the female guard said.
Well, that was remarkably foreboding and vague.
“Well, your skepticism about my motives aside, we’ve got two beds left here. We’re going to have to split them up.”
“We were just discussing that,” Asphodel explained, folding her hands behind her back and looking at the floor. “Would you share your bunk with me?”
“Sure. You want the top or the bottom bed?”
The male guard took a step toward Taelien, and then turned toward Asphodel. “Oracle, I must insist, you should not be so close to an outsider. He is not –”
“He is the Taelien. I would wish to know him better.” She stepped over to the last bed on the left, the closest to Garrick’s door, and sat down on it. “I will take the bottom.”
Taelien? He hadn’t mentioned that name – but he was wearing the Sae’kes on his hip. Did she hear that I used to go by that name from someone, or is she just associating the name with the sword in the way some of the people back home did?
“Sounds good.” Taelien turned to the guards. “We’re going to be working closely with one another. Do you mind if I ask your names?”
“Teshvol,” the man said, not extending his hand.
“Kolask.” The female guard hesitated for a moment, then glanced at Asphodel, and finally offered Taelien her hand. He grasped her wrist and gave her a firm nod before releasing it.
“Thank you,” Taelien replied.
“If you harm her—” Teshvol began.
“Teshvol, that is enough,” Asphodel commanded. He lowered his head and fell silent. “Taelien, we will have much to discuss.”
Taelien turned to Asphodel and raised an eyebrow. “Such as?”
“That,” she said, “Will best be discussed in private.”
***
Taelien arrived at his assigned testing area ten minutes early, stopping at the door to the three-story training facility. The building had several rooms on each floor, and during the rest of the year, each room was assigned to a specific form of practice. While the outdoor training grounds were more commonly used for direct combat training, the indoor facilities were specifically equipped for ha
ndling sorcery training and specific forms of armed combat.
Since the tests had started, the entire building had been made off-limits to recruits. He assumed that meant that the rooms inside were being repurposed for the specific tests they would be undergoing, and when he had been handed his testing schedule, that hypothesis had quickly been validated.
Nervously, he adjusted his uniform, attempting to ensure everything was immaculate. Fortunately, the candidates had been allowed to wear their own weapons of choice – he would have felt naked without the Sae’kes on his hip. He had not let it escape his sight since his battle with Myros in the arena in Orlyn, more than eight months before.
He snapped to attention as the door opened. A uniformed Paladin of Sytira exited the training structure, and Taelien delivered an immediate salute. The paladin was a stocky blond man with a wicked flanged mace hanging from a cord on his left side. The cord seemed to be looped directly through the pommel of the mace, which looked impractical.
Some kind of trick knot that he can quickly pull free to ready the weapon? After a moment, he shook his thoughts free. Can’t think about that right now. Focus on the test.
The paladin glanced Taelien over for a moment, and then returned his salute. “At ease.”
Taelien nodded and shifted his stance. “Sir.”
“You’re cadet Salaris, I take it?”
“Yes, sir.”
The paladin frowned. “I was picturing someone taller.”
Taelien barely resisted the urge to note that the paladin was at least half a head shorter than he was. He had an odd scar that ran diagonally across his nose, hooking around to meet the right side of his lips. “Sorry if I’ve disappointed you, sir.”
The paladin made a dismissive gesture. “Nothing to worry about. I’m Lieutenant Trace. I’ll be explaining the details of your first test.”
