Captain Virgil

The morning was pure and unrequited pain. My head ached with even the slightest of movements. The strong smell of vomit wafted in the air making me gag. I needed fresh air. Groaning, I rolled off the cot I had been sleeping on, misjudging the distance, and fell to the floor with a thud.

Sal groaned on the cot opposite of mine. "Quiet down," he said before rolling over and covering his head with his cloak.

I struggled to my feet. Early morning light peeked through the holes in the tent. I stumbled towards the entrance and stepped out into the coolness of the morning. I took a deep breath, allowing the cold air to fill my lungs. Then another, this time in the hopes of riding my nostrils of the unpleasant smells on the tent's interior. I wrapped my cloak closer around my shoulders. The sun had yet to rise above the hills east of Bridgetown bathing the world in the soft light of pre-dawn. 

The camp was still asleep. Muffled snores came from one of the tents close by, but it seemed not to damper the quietness of the morning. The only other sounds were the songs of unseen birds calling for the day to begin.

Where the campfire had been blazing the day before a lone figure sat, tending a small flame with a short stick. He placed a handful of kindling on the flames which quickly ignited. The hood of his purple cloak was pulled over his head, hiding his face. He added a log to the growing flames and watched as it too caught fire.

I walked towards the fire, yearning for some of its warmth. The grass, damp with dew, quickly soaked the edges of my boots. I took a seat on one of the boxes closest to the fire, placing my feet to at edge of the fire pit, welcoming the heat. The figure did not look up. His focus remained on his culturing of the fresh flames. 

The stranger and I sat wordlessly for several pleasant minutes. The chaos of the city and the chaos of the Gathering Field had been overwhelming for me. I missed the quiet rolling hills of the countryside. My village's yearly harvest festival now felt much more manageable after experiencing Bridgetown in its most chaotic season. The quietness around the campfire was as renewing to me as a drink of cold water on a hot summer day.

I was lost in peacefulness when a voice broke the silence. "First Gathering?" The man's voice was gruff and sounded of many years of yelling and smoking.

I started, "Yes."

"Can you fight?" he asked.

"For the most part."

"Good, you will need to."

"Are you a member of the First Deca? I thought I met everyone yesterday."

"In part."

I caught a glimpse of dark eyes from beneath the hood as the man raised his head. "Let me introduce myself," the man said, standing and lowering his hood. His sturdy build was evident beneath his purple cloak. He had a short military haircut and a well-trimmed goatee. His features were plain except for the long scar across his face, it stretched from above his hairline all the way down his neck until it finally vanished beneath the collar of his shirt. A long knife was strapped across his chest and a sturdy battle-axe hung at his waist. He wore no armor but for an amber colored metal belt the covered most of his stomach. "My name is Virgil Legionnaire."

The name, Legionnaire, seemed familiar. I raked my hangover riddled memory. Legionnaire. Who else had that name? Jasmine did. The pieces began to come together. She was someone's sister. This man's sister. Legionnaire was the name given to the commanders of the different Bridge Legion. Meaning that this man must have been Jasmine's brother, the Commander of the Bruises.

I came to that conclusion far slower than I should have. I shot to my feet and gave a salute, "Sir."

"Ease off," Virgil said, "We don't worry about "Respecting the Rank" in this Bridge Legion. When we are are beyond the Bridges, rank does not matter. All that matters in the trust you have in your fellow legionnaires and the trust you have in your own skills. Now, if you wouldn't mind following me, recruit." He tossed a two more logs onto the fire and left before they had a chance to catch fire. 

I followed him out of the Legion's rows of tents. There was a clearing between the Bruises' camp and the camp of the Scout Legion. Bales of hay were stacked at one end of the clearing, painted with targets for archery practice. Across the clearing were several roped off circles. Racks of weapons and several stacked boxes were arrayed to the side.

The legion captain stopped at the weapons racks browsing through all the different swords, spears, axes, clubs, and bows. "Have you any formal training? he asked.

"I've done my bit of fighting."

"I don't count boys brawling in the dirt as fighting."

I stood silent.

"How are your bow skills?"

"Fair enough. I did my fair share of hunting back home."

"Then that's where we will start," Virgil said. He grabbed one of the bows from the rack and one of the hanging quivers, "I need to know your skills so I can find the best place for you in our ranks."

I took the bow and bracing it with my leg, I strung the bowstring. Drawing a handful of arrows from the quiver I stuck the tips into the earth, this way I would only have to bend slightly to grab the next arrow. I fitted the first arrow to the string and pulled it back to my cheek, aiming down shaft of the arrow at the nearest target.

"What do you know of what awaits you across the Bridges?" Virgil asked as I released the arrow. It thudded into the target, well off the center mark. It had been a long time, since before my mother died, that I last shot a bow. I needed to refresh my skills.

"I have heard rumors," I said fitting the next arrow, "But I really don't know what to expect."

Thud.

"It's nothing like you can imagine. Too many newbies join the Gathering every year expecting to waltz over the Bridges and return with a dragon's hoard of gold. Only to find another world filled with more dangers than one can even comprehend. The last thing I want is a newbie joining our ranks and becoming a hinderance to the rest of the Legion. I will sooner leave you to die than risk my legionnaires dying from some idiotic antic on your part."

Thud.

"I understand."

Thud.

"I don't think you do," Virgil said, venom in his tone, "I will not hesitate to kill you myself if you act out of line."

I hesitated with releasing the next arrow. "Understood."

From the corner of my eye, I could see the captain watching me intently. Waiting for any reaction. 

I released the arrow. Thud.

"Most Legions believe that the best way to prepare their recruits is to throw them into the fray and that the strong will survive, therefore making their Legion stronger in the aftermath. I prefer to at the very least inform my recruits of the dangers they might find."

Thud.

"First is the bridges themselves. Every year more than one careless idiot loses his foot and falls to his death. Don't be one of them. Be careful of your surroundings and don't lose you footing. If you do happen to feel yourself falling don't grab on to another one of your companions. I'd rather lose one legionnaire than two."

Thud.

"Falling is only part of the danger. The Hawks are their own issue. They don't always show up on the Bridges, but always be vigilant. They are usually just a nuisance once off the Bridges, scavengers really, but if they come after you when you are on a bridge the best thing you can do is hold on tight and kill whatever catches hold of you."

Thud.

"Their goal is to knock you into the abyss below so they can feast on your corpse at the bottom. Once they realize you are too much of a fight for them, they will leave you alone."

Thud.

"Once off the Bridges is when things get really dangerous. Never assume that some isn't going to try to kill you. Kill it first then admire its beauty. If it looks like it can kill you, it can. If it looks like it won't kill you, it will."

Thud.

"Unless you have any type of martial training you are likely to die to the first creature you meet. We will train you when we can. But since the Gathering begins tomorrow our best choice is to put you in the safest place amongst our ranks that will best suit your skills. Even then if you see something it is smarter to run. Don't try to hide. The creatures can smell humans through solid rock."

Thud.

"If you happen to survive this year, we will be sure to train you throughout the next three years."

Thud.

I lowered the bow having fired my last arrow. Virgil took the bow and handed me a short single-handed sword without looking back at the archery target. I followed him to the straw dummies. He motioned to them, and I began hacking at the straw with purposeful lack of skill and finesse.

Virgil sighed and grabbed a similar sword for himself. He walked to the center of a sparring circle and beckoned me to join him. I did. He swung the sword slowly at me, letting me easily parry the "attack". 

"We have categorized five types of creatures that you will find in the other world. The first are easy enough to defeat. We call them Pests, the Hawks and Spiders and the sorts. Not much in armor and more dangerous in swarms than by themselves. They are mostly scavengers and ambushers, keep one eye open and you should be fine against them, given you are not alone. But any untrained man can kill one or two as long as they have something sharp or heavy."

He showed me a basic and familiar defensive stance. I obliged trying to give no hints towards my true skill. He continued his "assault" at a faster pace. 

"The next category is the Grunts. They are a bit more to handle on their own. Still not very defensive, but much more ferocious when they attack." He corrected my stance and continued, "you'll know when you see one. We call the most common Wolves and Lancers. You can kill one by yourself if you are either incredibly lucky or incredibly skilled.

The captain's swings became faster and more erratic. I block each with ease. Eventually I took a step purposefully out of place. The captain took the bait and the opportunity, he stepped forward and shoved me with the handle of his weapon. I fell, my back landing on the damp ground.

"The third category are the Apparitions, which we refer to as Ghosts, and those of a more natural base, such as man-eating plants and man-eating rocks and man-eating dirt. Essentially anything over there can be a man-eating monster in disguise."

I accepted the captain's outstretched hand, and he helped me off the ground. "I doubt you will ever have to worry about any four or five category creatures. We call the category fours, Bulks. I have only seen two in my time in the Legions, thankfully one was at a distance. The other was unfortunately plowing its way through our ranks."

"What of the category fives?" I asked.

"They are just a theory," came another voice.

Minister was approaching from across the clearing. He gave a slight bow resulting in the need to press his spectacles back up on the bridge of his nose. He carried with him his ledger board. His hair was disheveled, and he still had wrinkles where his face had been pressed on his pillow. The sun had risen over the hills, and he was blinking blearily against the brightening light. 

"While no category fives have been encountered or even seen. It is theorized that they exist given the evidence of massive destruction that can be found across the land. That being said, it is very possible those are some sort of natural occurrence, but much like the category fives, there has been no records of any type of natural disaster nearly to that scale," Minister said.

"About time you showed," said Virgil, "I have already gotten all the information we need." I placed the hilt of my sword into the captain's outstretched hand. He returned both weapons to their rack. 

"What do you think?" asked Minister.

The captain gave me an inquisitive look, "He's strong for his size. I'm sure from all your years working on a farm. He won't need a ground up training in melee combat, just a basic introduction to our strategies. His archery is satisfactory, so I suggest we put him with Ginil in the rear guard until we are over the bridges, then immediately begin his education."

Minister scribbled notes on his ledger as the captain spoke, "Good, then that is where he will be positioned. And what of his combat abilities? Will he need to begin sword training with Cole as soon as we are able?"

Captain Virgil eyed me, "No. he should be fine. He is a bit rusty, but well refined."

I should have figured I would not be able to fool the trained eyes of an experienced soldier with intentional missteps. I braced myself for more questions.

Minister turned his attention to me, "I have your name, but I will need your age for our records and you next of kin in the event of your death. Also, I will appreciate it if you would give me your family name for the completion of our records. Perhaps you will be more open now that there are no others from the Legion nearby. I promise that it will be kept confidential."

That peeked the captain's attention, "He gave no family name?"

Minister nodded.

"Whatever your reasons, keep you name to yourself is fine and we will not hold it against you. But if you fear repercussions from past crimes, there is no need. We protect our own. As long as you are with us, you are one of us."

I hesitated, "Sal will be my next of kin, he is the only person left in my life."

"And you family name?"

"I have no family name," I said. I hesitated before I continued. The truth would have to come out eventually. "It was taken from my family."

"Taken?" asked Minister.

"By the Church of the Holy Warrior," I said, voice lowered so that only they could hear, almost under my breath.

They were both silent. Minister's mouth slowly dropped open. It was understandable. The Church of the Holy Warrior took great stock in names and especially family names. In the history of the Church there have only been a recorded three times that the Church has taken away a family's name. Once when a man assassinated the first Grand Holy Emperor before the Division of the Kingdoms. The second was the cult leader who claimed to be the son of the Holy Warrior himself, born from the womb of a prostitute. And the third was for a group that attempted to resurrect the Holy Warriors greatest foe, Ba'lal, through the sacrifice of entire city of people. Those were the only instances recorded in the Books of Law. There were often rumors of others, someone who knew of someone else who had met a person without a family name. But they were nothing more than rumors.

"Um…" Minister trailed off.

"Okay, we can still accommodate," Captain Virgil piped up, "We will just write down what your family name was, and we will leave it at that. No one else needs to know." He glanced around the training grounds, making sure that no one was present to hear the conversation. I curse my stupidity, I should have done the same before I even though about speaking. 

"But sir," protested Minister.

"We will leave it be. Understood? This is not the strangest circumstance we have had had with a new recruit." said Virgil.

Minister nodded, but he looked extremely nervous. Somehow he managed to keep and eye on me and his surrounding while still marking his ledger.

I looked between the two men then down at my feet. I was not sure if I should tell them. It might make me a liability. After all, the Church was partially responsible for putting on the Gathering. If the wrong person from the Church heard that I was in the Legions, there was the chance that it could end badly for the entire Bruise Legion.

But my goals were more important, despite what might happen to the Bridge Legion and its member. How could I explain? It was not a simple explanation. Just as the captain was given the name of Legionnaire for his duties as the Legion's captain and through him his sister held the name as well, my family had the honor of the name Centurion. My family had been devoted followers of the Church of the Holy Warrior for generations. My grandfather was the first to reach the order of Centurion and my mother was on her own journey to become on as well. The order of Centurion was one of the highest priestly orders with the Church of the Holy Warrior. An organization that was known for its exclusivity, devotion, and legendary warriors. It would have been my place to become a Centurion too, if things had not worked out as they did. 

"Silrilsian," I lied, using the name of my father lineage, keeping my true family name a secret.

I could see Minister racking his memory of the name and why the Church would have taken my family's name.

Virgil eyed me again. I did not think he believed me, but he did not pry any further. Turning to Minister he said, "I need you to keep your head. Despite your beliefs. Please, ensure you treat him as one of our own. As he is. I have informed him of the dangers over the bridges, if you would be so kind to fill him in on all the rest?" He looked at me and gave me a smile. 

"Yes sir," said Minister.

The captain left me and Minister in the training field as he walked off. 

"I apologize," I said to Minister, "I don't mean to be a burden."

He sighed, "I find it hard to believe that you actually come from a family of Unnamed. It has only happened three times in history. And in those cases, it was for unforgiveable actions. So, if you're expecting me to believe that your family has performed such heinous crimes and yet I have not heard of it, you will be mistaken. Whatever reason you have for keeping your name secret and giving us such an idiotic excuse to hide it does not matter to our captain. But to me," he starred daggers at me, "I will find out what you are hiding."

He deflated, "But that will have to wait until after the Gathering is over. Besides the dangers that the captain mentioned, what do you know of Beyond the Bridges?"

"Not much, I'm afraid," I said, "All I know is that the Church's main goal is to find evidence of the Holy Warrior's greatest battles to possibly find the location of his final resting place."

"Yes," Minister said as he glared over his spectacles, "that is common knowledge."

I shrugged.

Minister huffed, "The terrain beyond the Bridges is much like ours, just a lot less settled. There are some cities and villages, none of them are habitable and are usually breading grounds for monsters. Other legions are bound to wander near or in them, that is their own mistake to handle. The Bruises have never and will never enter any type of village. Granted, that is where much of the treasure and Articles of Power, but we believe that our lives are worth more than any treasure. But that does not mean that you will not find anything outside of towns and cities. If you happen to find any Articles of Power, you will need to bring them to me or any of the other Identifiers in the Legions."

I had heard of Articles of Power. Who had not heard of them? They were magic items that granted great power to their wielders. They were one of the main reasons for people to partake in the Gathering. No amount of treasure was equal to possessing a single Article of Power. One was enough to be granted a small noble title if a possessor would only seek for it. In the past, wars have been fought between Bridge Legions over the discovery of Articles of Power. 

There was one thing I was confused about, "What is an Identifier?"

Minister huffed again, "I am an Identifier. Each Legion has at least one. Our Legion has two, myself, and a woman named Venessa. We have been trained to identify and categories new monsters and new Articles of Power. If you were to happen upon an Article, we should be able to tell you what type and possibly what it can do."

That made sense to me. Someone had to be able to identify Articles so that someone did not kill themselves or someone else in the process of testing the new power. "Do any of the Bruises have an Article of Power?" I asked.

"We have three within our ranks. Captain Virgil has one and Ginil found one most recently. The third is in the hands of Big Nel, though his is used in support, unlike the other two."

My mind drifted to the captain's bronze belt. I thought it an odd piece of armament. It must be his Article of Power. But what were the other two?

"Remember, other legions will not hesitate to attack you over gold, but when it comes to Articles, then will gladly kill you to claim it for themselves," Minister said sternly, "That is why it is necessary for you to stay close to the other Legionnaires in our Legion. It is highly unlikely that they would risk attacking a large group of Legionnaires, not matter the reward. Though, greed does things to ones mind."

I nodded my understanding. 

"Good," he said, finishing notations on his board, "that is the extent of what I must tell you. I will inform Ginil of the captain's decision for your position and he will get you squared away with your duties and the gear you will require. Breakfast will be served soon, feel free to join the others." He walked away without another word. Thought as he reached the line of tents, I saw him look back. His eyes met mine and I saw the mistrust he was feeling towards me, smoldering like hot coals behind his spectacles. 

I stood alone for half a minute. Once I was the only person left on the training field, I stretched, loosening my muscles. I needed to clear my head before I returned to the Deca. It had been a long time since I had done any sparring, I was rusty. I stood straight and started into the First Form of the Warrior. A simple form meant for beginners and defense. The last time I had practiced any of my forms was a few months after my mother had died. I should have been keeping up with my training, but life swept me up in its currents and I started to plan. Getting back into the practice a day before I would most likely be fending for my life was a terrible decision, but it would have to do.

I finished the first form and moved into the second, then the third. My motions were stiff, and it struggled to keep my balance through the steps. As I enter the fourth form I was beginning to sweat. By the end I was breathing heavily. I stopped to catch my breath, and only then did I notice I was being watched. 

Between the tents, leaning with an elbow on a barrel a woman was watching me. Her black hair was tied into a braid which hung over her shoulder. She was beautiful, not the stark and exotic beauty of Jasmine or the wild beauty of Ren or Cilvi, but a plain beauty that did not seem to need to be adorned by outward trinkets or clothes. The clothes she wore were plain. The fanciest items she wore were the weapon and scabbard on her hip. An elegant rapier adorned with elaborate carved designs. 

"Hello," I said, unsure of what else to do I stood awkwardly. She seemed familiar to me, like I had seen her before. Though I could not remember from where.

She strode forward, "I find your exercises very interesting. I swear that I have seen it before. Is it not the forms and techniques passed down by the Centurions?" she said.

"Sorry to disappoint," I lied, "Unfortunately I was not taught what I know from them. I'm sure my teacher probably was heavily influenced by the Centurions. Who wouldn't be?" I kicked myself for having been so careless. There was no reason for me to practice in the middle of camp like that, especially after the conversation I had only a short time before. The Centurion Forms were not common knowledge. I hoped that this woman was gullible enough to believe that someone would try to teach the techniques outside the Church and not be punished. The Centurions kept their Techniques under close guard.

My years working as a farm hand had left my body strong, but my mind was lacking in common sense. I was slipping up a dangerous number of times. If I kept up at the rate I was going, I would be outed before the Bridges even appeared. 

"Hmm," she approached the weapons racks. She looked over the weapons much like the captain. "I have personally seen the Centurions practicing and I must say, your technique does seem like much more than a simple copy."

"Then my teacher must have been more impressive than I thought."

She did not seem convinced. "If you say so. I'll be interested in seeing how you handle it across the Bridges. If you survive long enough." She gave wave goodbye and left the direction she came from.

I was left again. Though this time I was confused and afraid.

"Well, ain't that interesting?" came a familiar voice. 

Sal was sitting atop a barrel opposite the direction the woman had left. He was holding two bowls whose contents were steaming comfortingly. 

"What is?" I asked. Taking the proffered bowl. 

"That was the Commander of the Third Deca, Sindra Floos. It looks to me like she's interested in recruiting you to her Deca," Sal said.

"Is that a thing, transferring between Decas?"

"Yeah, you can even transfer between Legions. If the Legion wants you, but that is very rare and unlikely to happen to anyone in our legion."

"Why would she be interested in me?"

Sal raised an eyebrow, "You're kidding me, right?"

I shrugged; I really had no idea.

"As much as you try to hide or lie about it, you can't fully cover who you are. The air around you screams, saying to let your true self free. The rumors bouncing around inside our own Deca are crazy enough, I can't even imagine what they might be in the other Decas," Sal said, "Flex offered me one hundred gold pieces to tell him who you are. If he offers much more, I might have to take him up on it."

"I might be tempted to allow you to," I smiled, "Thank you for keeping my life a secret for me. I know it is probably annoying for you to constantly be lying for me."

He took a bite of the breakfast hash. "Not an issue, I'm just glad I can be part of your grand scheme."

I laughed, "If only there was hope of me actually completing my scheme. I have no idea how I am going to regain my family's honor. I feel foolish for relying so heavily on some notes left by my grandfather and a dream I had once. Even if it left a lasting impression."

"I have heard you talk about that dream countless times. I doubt that if there was not meaning behind it then you would not have been able to recount it so clearly or been able to forget about it."

The dream came to me the night after my grandfather had passed away. I was standing on a cliff overlooking the entire world. From the Endless Sea a dark mist formed and began to cover the earth. From the center of Ferandris a light shone and began to expel the darkness. Suddenly the light changed, as if the darkness of the mists corrupted it. It went from the shining golden light to a deep crimson. Then it started to empower the mists and the mists engulfed the world. Then the mist ate the world and everyone in it, until there was nothing left but empty cold nothing.

I remembered the dream like it had haunted me every night for the pasted five years, though I had never had the dream since the first time. I had theories of what it meant, but they were only just that. My mother was just as confused as I when I told her about it. I come to the conclusion that the dream had to do with the bridges in some way. So here I was, less than twenty-four hours from venturing over them to the world beyond. I had little hope that my theory was correct, but I had nothing else to do besides wither away as I moved from farm-to-farm finding work.

"Less than a day," Sal said changing the topic, "are you excited?"

"As excited as I can be," I said, "Is it as bad as everyone says it is?"

Sal's eyes abandoned all their usual joy. "I have seen more dead bodies than I ever thought was possible for one person. Horror and chaos are king over there. I continue to have nightmares of some of the things I've seen."

"Then why go back? Why not stay and live happily with Trishel?"

"Because I want to buy her the perfect home and give her the life she deserves as fast as I possibly can, and the wealth I can get from the Gatherings is the best way."

"How about this," I said, "if I survive, you can have my portion of treasure."

Sal looked shocked, "No, I can't accept that from you."

"Too bad. I won't need it, even if I don't secede in my goals. Especially if I don't secede."

"Fine. I will accept your rewards, after you take enough to buy back your family's farm."

"It's a deal," we smiled and shook each other's hands to seal the deal.

We ate the last of our breakfasts, watching as the Gathering Field came to life beneath the rising sun.

After nearly a quarter of an hour of sitting in silence, watching the camps, Sal asked, "Is your head still throbbing?"

"Yes."