Chronicles of Dras

Chapter 4: The Commander's Charge and the Dawn of Trials

As dusk settled on the city of New Haven, painting the sky with hues of orange and pink, Vantos and Dras trailed behind the guard, their eyes darting across the emptying streets. The city was unlike anything Dras had ever seen, with buildings that towered into the sky and bustling crowds that seemed never to thin. It was a stark contrast to the quiet, open wilderness they had traversed for days.

Soon they arrived at a large complex, a stark structure of stone and wood, which loomed ominously against the twilight sky. A vast parade ground lay before it, empty save for a few scattered figures. They were herded into the building and directed to wait in a lobby area outside the commander's office.

Dras, who had been silent throughout their walk, turned to Vantos, his voice barely above a whisper. "Are we in trouble?" There was a hint of apprehension in his eyes.

Vantos, leaning back in his chair with an air of nonchalance, flashed him a reassuring smile. "Nah, we're good. Let me handle the talking."

After what seemed like an eternity, the door opened, and the guard who had escorted them emerged. "Commander will see you now, Vantos," he said, his voice devoid of any warmth. Vantos rose to his feet and crossed the room, his movements fluid and composed. Dras followed suit, his heart pounding in his chest.

The room they entered was vast, with a roaring open fire that cast flickering shadows on the stone walls. Opposite the fire were two plush coaches, and beyond them, a large oak table. Behind it sat a man with long silver hair and a goatee. His tanned skin was marked with numerous scars - a testament to countless battles fought and won.

Commander Oisin, for that was who he was, looked up at their entrance. His gaze was sharp, his voice gruff as he berated Vantos for their tardiness. The words "report" and "local lord breathing down my neck" were thrown around, but Dras paid them little heed. His attention was drawn to the man himself. The commander's presence was commanding, his air of authority unmistakable.

As the adults conversed, Dras found his mind wandering. He thought back to the journey that brought him here. He remembered the grueling training Vantos put him through, the lessons learned, the skills honed. He wasn't the same boy who had left his village. He was stronger, more resilient, and part of him was scared to discover what he was truly capable of.

"So, you're Kane's boy, huh?" His voice was gruff but not unkind. There was a twinkle in his eye as he looked Dras over. "Kane was a good man. One of the best Legionnaires I've ever had the pleasure of serving with. How is he?"

Vantos interjected before Dras could respond. "Kane... Kane is no longer with us." His voice was steady, but Dras could see the sadness in his eyes. "He was killed by a band of raiders. We suspect there was a magi among them."

Oisin's face hardened at this news. He slammed his fist on the table, the loud bang echoing around the room. "Raiders? Are you certain? Kane was one of the best fighters I've ever known. Who could've possibly..."

He trailed off, his eyes narrowing. "Do you think it was the work of the Dark Ones?"

Vantos shook his head. "We're not certain. All we know is that these weren't ordinary raiders. They were looking for something, or someone."

Oisin rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "We'll need to investigate this further. Vantos, I want you to go to the Isle of Santo and track these raiders. Find out who they are and what they're after."

Vantos nodded. "I was planning on doing just that. But before I leave, I have a favor to ask of you, Oisin."

Oisin raised an eyebrow. "A favor? Coming from you, Vantos, I'm not sure whether to be intrigued or worried. What is it?"

Vantos gestured to Dras. "I want a letter of introduction for Dras here. He wishes to join the Scorch Trials and become a Legionnaire."

Oisin turned his gaze to Dras, his eyes appraising. "Is that so?" He turned back to Vantos. "Has he been trained?"

Vantos nodded. "He's a quick learner. He's picked up several forms in just a few days. I believe he has potential."

Oisin looked at Dras again, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Very well. I'll draft the letter tonight. But remember, Vantos, the trials are not to be taken lightly. They will test him in ways he can't possibly imagine."

Vantos nodded. "I know. And so does he."

As they left Commander Oisin's office, Dras felt a mix of relief and apprehension. He was one step closer to becoming a Legionnaire. But the path ahead was fraught with danger and uncertainty, and he had no idea what lay in store for him.

After being dismissed by Commander Oisin, Dras was led by Gillic to the dormitory. The room was filled with bunk beds, each occupied by a young person around his age. There were whispers and curious glances as he entered, the silence descending upon the room broken only by the occasional cough or rustle of sheets.

Dras was directed to an empty bunk at the far end of the room. As he settled down, a boy around his age, with freckles and a shock of red hair, approached him.

"You're the new guy, right? Dras?" the boy asked, extending a hand. "I'm Lorn. Nice to meet you."

Dras shook his hand, offering a small smile. "Nice to meet you too, Lorn."

A moment of silence passed between them before Lorn broke it. "So, you're here for the Scorch Trials, huh? You don't look like much."

Dras could tell that the comment wasn't meant to be malicious. There was a glint of curiosity in Lorn's eyes, perhaps even a hint of admiration. "I guess we'll see," Dras replied, his voice steady.

That night, as the other cadets slept, Dras lay awake in his bunk, staring at the wooden beams above him. He thought about his father, his village, and the life he'd left behind. He remembered his father's smile, the warmth of his hug, the sound of his voice. A lump formed in his throat, and he had to blink back the tears that threatened to spill.

As the moonlight filtered through the window, casting long shadows across the room, Dras made a silent vow. He would not let his father's death be in vain. He would become a Legionnaire, just like his father, and he would do whatever it took to find his sister and avenge his father's death.

The following morning, the cadets were roused at dawn by Gillic's booming voice. There was a flurry of activity as everyone scrambled to get ready. Dras, despite his lack of sleep, was among the first to be ready, his belongings neatly packed and his uniform crisp.

They set off towards the capital, Barso, led by Gillic, whose stern demeanor was a stark contrast to his jovial nature the previous evening. The journey was hard and tiring, but Dras pushed through, his resolve unwavering. As they marched towards their destination, Dras knew that he was on the path to a future that would either make or break him.

As the city of New Haven disappeared from sight, Dras took one last look back. It was a farewell to the life he had known, and a greeting to the unknown that lay ahead. The journey was just beginning, and Dras was ready to face whatever came his way. One chapter of his life had closed, and another was about to begin.