Constable Ironside stood on the platform, his massive fra making the raised wooden structure look smaller than it actually was. The hall had gone completely silent, over two hundred young recruits holding their collective breath while this mountain of a man surveyed them with eyes that had seen more death than most of them could imagine.
"I am Constable Ironside," he rumbled, his voice carrying to every corner of the space without needing to shout. "For however long your training lasts, I own you. Your ti. Your effort. Your blood. Every breath you take in this camp belongs to until I decide you’ve earned the right to call yourself a dragon knight."
He paused, letting the weight of those words settle.
"So of you ca here thinking this would be an adventure. A story to tell your grandchildren. A way to earn respect and gold." His expression hardened. "Disabuse yourselves of those notions imdiately. This is not an adventure. This is preparation for war against creatures that will kill you without hesitation or remorse. Dragon knights don’t survive because we’re lucky. We survive because we’re better trained, better prepared, and more willing to do what’s necessary than anyone else."
Noah watched him speak, still processing the surreal reality of sitting in a room listening to a man he’d fought as an undead guardian in a cursed castle. Ironside’s voice held none of the chanical quality it had possessed in that tiline, just raw authority earned through years of service.
"The kingdom doesn’t train dragon knights for glory," Ironside continued, beginning to pace across the platform. Each step made the wood creak under his weight. "We train you because regular soldiers die when they face dragons. They die screaming, burning, begging for rcy that never cos. Dragon knights exist because soone has to stand between the people of this kingdom and monsters that would reduce our cities to ash."
He stopped pacing and faced them directly.
"Dragons are not the only threat we face. There are beasts in the wild that can tear through stone. There are creatures that hunt in packs with intelligence that rivals human tactics. There are things in the deep places of the world that even we don’t fully understand. But dragons are the apex. The ultimate test of whether you deserve to wear the crest."
Ironside crossed his arms, the muscles in his forearms bunching visibly.
"Your training here will determine three things. First, whether you have the physical capability to survive combat with monster level threats. Second, whether you have the ntal fortitude to face death repeatedly without breaking. Third, whether you have the discipline to follow orders even when every instinct tells you to run."
He let that sink in for a mont.
"Now, let explain how this works. Every dragon knight has a specialty. A role they fill in combat based on their natural abilities and magical aptitude. We use a color system to identify and train these specializations."
Ironside gestured to an instructor standing near the wall, who unfurled a large cloth banner showing three colored symbols.
"Green hoods are our support specialists. Healers primarily, but also those with abilities that enhance others or provide tactical advantages. If you can nd wounds, boost stamina, create protective barriers, or otherwise keep your teammates alive, you’ll train as green. These are not lesser knights. Without green support, the rest of us would die in the field. Every dragon knight owes their life to green support multiple tis over."
He moved to the next symbol.
"Red hoods are our powerhouses. Strength users, close combat specialists, anyone whose primary contribution is direct physical force. If your magic enhances your muscles, your speed, your durability, you’ll likely train as red. These are the knights who engage dragons directly, who take hits that would pulverize normal humans, who deal damage that can pierce dragon scales."
The third symbol glowed yellow in the torchlight.
"Yellow hoods are our precision strikers. Long-range specialists, those with abilities that require accuracy over raw power. Archers with magical aim, users of elental attacks that can be directed from a distance, anyone whose strength lies in hitting targets from outside direct combat range. Yellow knights provide covering fire, eliminate threats before they can close distance, and exploit weaknesses that red knights create."
Ironside stepped back to the center of the platform.
"You will be assigned your color tomorrow morning after we assess your abilities. So of you already know what you are. Others think you know but will discover you’re wrong. A few will find they have no magical aptitude at all and will wash out imdiately."
His expression showed no sympathy for that possibility.
"Tonight, you rest. I know most of you traveled long distances to reach this camp. So arrived yesterday, others today. You’re tired, sore, and probably questioning your life choices." A ghost of a smile touched his lips, gone almost before it appeared. "Good. That’s the appropriate response to being here."
He gestured broadly to encompass the hall.
"Instructors will assign you rooms montarily. You’ll be paired with another recruit. That person will be your roommate for the duration of training. They will also be your primary combat partner during exercises. Choose wisely, because you’ll be relying on each other to survive the next several months."
Ironside’s voice hardened again.
"You have five minutes to find a partner. Anyone still alone after that ti will be paired by instructors, and you won’t like their choices. Move."
The hall erupted into motion imdiately. Over two hundred recruits stood, so rushing toward people they’d apparently befriended during earlier arrivals, others scanning the crowd for likely candidates.
Noah stood more slowly, watching the chaos unfold. Groups ford with surprising speed, people gravitating toward others who looked similar or ca from the sa regions based on their clothing.
He approached a pair of young n who were still looking around uncertainly.
"Need a partner?" Noah asked.
One of them glanced at him, took in Noah’s height and build, and shook his head quickly. "We’re good, thanks. Already decided to room together."
Noah moved to another group. A thin boy with nervous energy practically vibrated when Noah got close.
"Sorry, I’ve already got soone," the boy said, gesturing at a stocky recruit nearby.
The stocky one looked Noah up and down with an expression that bordered on fear. "You look too strong. Probably a bully."
"What? I’m not—"
But they’d already turned away, deliberately excluding him from further conversation.
Noah tried three more tis with similar results. People had either already paired up or took one look at him and decided he was trouble. Apparently being taller than average and having visible muscle definition made recruits assu he’d be difficult to live with.
The hall was thinning out now, pairs heading toward the instructors stationed by the exits to receive room assignnts. Noah stood in the increasingly empty space, realizing with growing frustration that he was running out of options.
"Can’t find a partner, huh?"
The voice ca from behind him, feminine and carrying a note of amusent. Noah turned to find a girl watching him with her arms crossed, one eyebrow raised in sothing between challenge and commiseration.
She was maybe five feet six inches tall, with dark skin that caught the torchlight and reflected it with a warm undertone. Her eyes were brown, deep and expressive, currently showing more calculation than friendliness. A single braid fell from her head down to her waist, thick and well-maintained despite the presud travel to reach this place. She wore simple traveling clothes, sturdy but showing signs of long use.
"Seems that way," Noah admitted. "You?"
"Sa problem, different reason." She gestured at herself. "For so bizarre explanation, these boys think a girl can’t handle dragon knight training. Keep trying to ’protect’ by suggesting I pair with other girls for ’safety.’" The sarcasm in her voice could have cut glass. "As if being female makes fragile."
Noah noticed she was indeed one of maybe a dozen young won in the entire group, and most of them had already paired together, probably for exactly the reasons she’d ntioned.
"So," the girl continued, studying Noah with that sa assessing look, "you want to be roommates or do you want to take your chances with instructor assignnt?"
"I’ll take the girl who thinks for herself over whatever terrible pairing the instructors would cook up," Noah replied.
She smiled, genuine this ti. "Smart answer. I’m Nami."
"Burt," Noah said, still getting used to responding to that na.
They walked together toward the nearest instructor, a grizzled man with white hair and a scar across his throat that looked like it had nearly killed him. He eyed their pairing with obvious skepticism.
"You two together?" His voice was raspy, damaged by whatever had given him that scar.
"Yes, sir," Nami replied before Noah could speak.
The instructor pulled a key from a box at his feet, checked sothing on a list, then handed it to Noah. "Room forty-seven. Second barracks building, upper floor. You comfortable with this arrangent, girl?"
Nami’s expression went cold. "I can handle a little boy if I need to beco a knight."
Noah felt slightly offended but kept his mouth shut. The instructor shrugged like it wasn’t his problem and waved them off.
They left the hall and stepped into the camp’s evening air. The sun had set fully now, torches providing illumination along the paths between buildings. Other pairs of recruits moved toward the barracks, so talking animatedly, others walking in awkward silence.
Noah noticed Nami wasn’t the only female recruit. He’d spotted at least eleven others scattered throughout the crowd, though she was right that most people seed to view them as novelties rather than legitimate candidates.
The second barracks building was identical to the first, long and rectangular with a pitched roof and windows spaced evenly along both sides. They climbed the exterior stairs to the upper floor and found room forty-seven near the middle of the hallway.
The key turned smoothly, and the door opened to reveal a space maybe twelve feet by fifteen feet. Two narrow beds occupied opposite walls, each with a thin mattress and a wool blanket folded at the foot. A small table sat between the beds with a clay pitcher and basin for washing. Two wooden chests at the foot of each bed provided storage.
It was spartan. Functional. Exactly what you’d expect from military housing.
Nami entered first, claiming the bed on the left by dropping her travel bag on it. Noah took the right, setting his own ager belongings on the chest.
"Rules," Nami said imdiately, her tone businesslike. "I need silence when I sleep. Absolute silence. No snoring, no tossing and turning loud enough to wake , no getting up in the middle of the night unless it’s an ergency."
Noah nodded.
"Bathroom is down the hall, shared with everyone on this floor. Morning routine is first co, first served, so we’ll need to coordinate if we both want to wash before morning assembly. I wake early, so I’ll go first."
"That’s fine."
"And if you have any ideas about being inappropriate just because we’re sharing a room, disabuse yourself of them imdiately. I’ll break your nose, report you to the instructors, and make sure everyone knows you’re that kind of person."
Noah held up his hands. "Not an issue. I promise."
Nami studied him for a mont, then nodded. "Good. We understand each other."
She started unpacking her bag, arranging her few possessions with precise care. Noah did the sa, though he had even less to organize. A spare shirt, a worn pair of pants, the clothes he’d been wearing. That was about it.
He sat on his bed, testing the mattress. It was thin but not uncomfortable, stuffed with straw that crinkled when he moved. Better than so places he’d seen people sleep in his original tiline, especially those that lived in so low level settlents.
His stomach rumbled, reminding him he’d eaten breakfast this morning but nothing since. The sun had set hours ago, and his enhanced tabolism was demanding fuel.
’Might as well work out while we wait for dinner. If there’s one,’ Noah thought, standing and moving to the center of the room where he had space.
He dropped into a push-up position, adjusted his hand placent, and began.
Nami watched him from where she was organizing her chest. "Really? Working out already?"
Noah didn’t answer, just continued his reps. One, two, three, four. The motion was familiar, grounding. He’d done thousands of push-ups over the months of training in his tiline, building the foundation of strength that his enhanced attributes had amplified.
Ten, twenty, thirty. His breathing stayed steady, controlled. Muscles ward up, blood flow increased, but nothing approached strain yet.
Nami went back to her unpacking, occasionally glancing at him with what might have been curiosity or judgnt.
One hundred, two hundred, five hundred. Noah found his rhythm, the count becoming automatic while his mind drifted to other concerns.
’Four days,’ he thought, maintaining perfect form. ’It’s been maybe four days since I entered that domain and got pulled into this tiline. Which ans back ho, everyone’s probably worried I’ve been gone too long. Sophie’s probably organizing search efforts. Kelvin’s building tracking devices. Lila and Seraleth are checking every location I might have gone. Or they trust I’d be back due to my domain abilities and they aren’t bothered. Most likely the second option,’
One thousand, fifteen hundred, two thousand. His arms showed no sign of fatigue, his enhanced vitality making this level of exertion trivial compared to what his body could actually handle.
’Lucas might be back from Raiju Pri by now. Probably confused about where I went, adding his voice to the chorus of people worried about my disappearance.’
Three thousand, four thousand, five thousand. Sweat beaded on Noah’s forehead but his breathing remained controlled, steady in and out matching the rhythm of movent.
Nami had finished unpacking and was lying on her bed reading sothing she’d pulled from her bag. Every so often, she’d glance over at him with an expression that suggested she was reconsidering her choice of roommate.
Seven thousand, eight thousand, nine thousand. Noah’s mind shifted to this tiline, to the family he’d left behind this morning.
His mother’s worried face. Gertrude crying. The supplies he’d gathered in the middle of the night so they wouldn’t struggle without him there to help.
’They’re good people,’ Noah thought, his chest touching the floor before pushing back up. ’They don’t deserve the sha they’ve carried. Don’t deserve whatever’s coming that will destroy this kingdom.’
Ten thousand.
"Ten thousand and—"
"Really?" Nami interrupted, her voice carrying clear skepticism. "What, am I supposed to be impressed?"
Noah paused mid-push-up, looking over at her. "I don’t understand."
She sat up on her bed, closing her book with deliberate care. "I know you’re probably using magical strength enhancent. Or stamina boost. Sothing to make this easier. So what’s the point of the performance? Trying to intimidate your roommate?"
Noah almost laughed. The idea that his base stats, enhanced by months of leveling and combat against Harbingers, could be mistaken for basic magic was absurd. But how could he explain that?
"It’s not magic," he said simply. "Just training."
"Sure it’s not." Her tone suggested she didn’t believe him at all.
Noah returned to his push-ups, resuming the count in his head rather than out loud. Eleven thousand, twelve thousand, thirteen thousand. His muscles sang with warmth but not pain, his body operating well within comfortable limits.
A bell rang sowhere outside, loud enough to carry through the closed window.
"Dinner," Nami said, standing and brushing off her clothes. "Finally."
She left without waiting for him. Noah finished his set at fifteen thousand, then stood and followed her out into the hallway.
The dining hall was another large building near the center of camp, its interior filled with long tables arranged in rows. Recruits were already filing in, claiming seats, the noise level rising as conversations overlapped.
Food was served from a kitchen window at the far end. Simple fare, as expected. Stew that slled of vegetables and so kind of at, bread that looked a day old, water in clay cups. Noah took his portion and scanned the room.
Nami had claid a table on the far side, sitting alone while other recruits gave her a wide berth. Groups were already forming, people clustering based on whatever criteria they’d decided mattered. Regional origin, apparent wealth, physical size.
Noah found an empty table near the middle and sat, testing the stew. It was better than he’d expected, actually seasoned, the at tender enough despite being so cut he didn’t recognize.
He ate slowly, his mind drifting between tilines again.
’Mom and Gertrude are probably eating dinner right now too,’ he thought, breaking off a piece of bread. ’Sitting at that small table, talking about their day. Except there’s an empty seat where I usually sit.’
The thought made his chest tight.
But his real family was also sitting down to als without him. Sophie managing Eclipse’s operations while worrying about where he’d gone. Lila probably not eating much, too anxious to have an appetite. Kelvin working himself to exhaustion trying to find a void stone.
And Mrs. Harper. Still working at the academy, still insisting she didn’t need help, still the closest thing to a mother he had in his actual tiline.
’When I get back,’ Noah promised himself, ’I’m visiting her first thing. Bringing her flowers, or food, or whatever she needs. Making sure she knows how much she ans to .’
Movent caught his attention. Three young n approached Nami’s table, their body language radiating the kind of false confidence that ca from being in groups.
"Hey there," the tallest one said, his voice carrying across the hall. "You shouldn’t be sitting alone. Co join us at our table."
Nami didn’t look up from her food. "I’m fine here, thanks."
"Co on, don’t be like that. We’re just being friendly."
"I said no."
The tallest one’s expression darkened. His hand reached out to grab Nami’s arm, probably intending to pull her up.
Noah watched this unfold while chewing his bread, his eyes tracking the interaction without moving from his seat.
Nami grabbed the boy’s wrist before he could touch her, twisted hard enough to make him yelp, and spoke in a voice that carried clear threat despite its quiet volu.
"Touch and I’ll break your fingers. Then your nose. Then whatever else I can reach before the instructors pull off. Understand?"
The boy jerked his hand back, his friends shifting nervously.
"You’re crazy," he muttered, but all three of them retreated to their original table, shooting dark looks back at Nami.
Noah returned his attention to his stew, impressed despite himself.
A few minutes later, footsteps approached his table. Nami sat down across from him with her half-finished al, her expression carrying clear irritation.
"You’re really giving a bad first impression," she said without preamble. "Not even trying to help when those idiots were bothering ."
Noah looked up, genuinely confused. "You laid down rules about respecting your space and independence. I was following them. Besides, you seed perfectly capable of handling yourself."
Nami blinked, apparently not expecting that response. Then her expression softened slightly.
"Fair enough, I suppose."
They ate in silence for a mont before Nami spoke again.
"So where are you from, Burt?"
Noah gave her the sa story he’d been telling everyone else. Small town, tavern worker, father died fighting a dragon, lived with his mother and sister.
"And you decided to beco a dragon knight?" Nami’s eyebrow rose. "That takes either courage or stupidity."
"Maybe both."
"What made you think you could do it?"
Noah hesitated, then decided on a version of the truth. "I fought a dragon. Recently. Survived when I probably shouldn’t have. The dragon knights who witnessed it suggested I train with them."
Nami set down her spoon, giving him her full attention now. "You fought a dragon and lived?"
"Fought is generous. Mostly I just tried not to die while it tried very hard to kill ."
"But you survived."
"Obviously."
She studied him for a long mont, her eyes searching his face for signs of deception. Finding none, she leaned back slightly.
"That’s actually impressive. Explains why those boys were scared of you earlier."
They talked more as they finished eating. Nami asked questions, Noah answered what he could, making up details when necessary. He learned she was from a coastal town three days’ ride south, that her father was a fisherman who’d died in a storm, that her mother had remarried soone Nami clearly didn’t like.
"So you ca here to escape?" Noah asked.
"I ca here to prove I’m worth sothing beyond being soone’s daughter or future wife. Dragon knights are respected. They make their own choices. Nobody tells them what to do with their lives."
Noah understood that sentint more than she knew.
Eventually, the dining hall began emptying as recruits returned to their barracks. Noah and Nami walked back together, the conversation dying into comfortable silence.
Their room was exactly as they’d left it. Noah claid his bed, lying down on the thin mattress while Nami did the sa across from him.
An instructor’s voice echoed through the hallway. "Lights out in five minutes! Anyone caught with candles burning after that gets morning latrine duty for a week!"
Nami leaned over and blew out the candle on the small table between their beds, plunging the room into darkness broken only by moonlight through the window.
Noah lay there, staring at the ceiling beams he could barely see.
"Burt?" Nami’s voice ca through the darkness.
"Yeah?"
"Why do you really want to beco a dragon knight?"
Noah was quiet for a mont, thinking about how to answer that.
"To make aning of everything I’m going through," he said finally. "To find purpose in all this chaos."
"And you? Why do you want to really beco a dragon knight?"
Silence stretched for several seconds.
"Enough talking, Burt," Nami said, her voice carrying a finality that suggested the conversation was over. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight."
Noah closed his eyes, letting his body relax despite the unfamiliar surroundings.
’A strange one, indeed,’ he thought, a small smile touching his lips.
But tomorrow, the real training would begin. Tomorrow, they’d be assigned their colors and start the process of becoming dragon knights.
Tomorrow, he’d be one step closer to understanding what "Extinguish the Flas" actually ant.
For now, sleep.
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