Written in The Stars

The third scroll: Marcel

Marcel's training for the service was quite successful, except that not all "comrades" treated him favorably. Despite his flamboyant performance with the commander at the very beginning, some still believed that the residents of the outskirts – the so-called outsiders in the capital –should not have taken places in the royal guard.

"You really shone today!" Luther clapped his friend on the shoulder.

Marcel was standing by his bed, stuffing some belongings into the nightstand. There were a lot of people in the barracks now – the soldiers were resting after training. Broderick forced them to study until their last breath, but the guys still spoke of him with awe – it seemed that no matter how strict he was, the guard still loved him madly.

"I have to keep up with you," Marcel grinned, not looking at his friend.

"Keep up, yeah, sure," the red–haired boy literally laughed, "you've already surpassed all of us"

"Well, I'm still a long way from you," the man turned to his interlocutor, there was clearly a note of irony in his tone.

"Dork," Luther tapped him lightly on the arm, continuing to be in a very cheerful mood.

Marcel immediately found a common language with this young man. He was about the same age as Eugene and was always friendly to everyone. Luther showed his comrade how everything works in the guard, told a lot of interesting stories. During their days off, he even accompanied Marcel to show him the beauty of the city.

"Are you praising the new guy again?" Kohan collapsed onto the lower bunk, pushing his friend away. "Look, when he gets a swelled head, you'll know"

Marcel was also in a fairly close relationship with Kohan. However, their conversations were already filled with much more meaning – the men were about the same age. Kohan gave Marcel various kinds of tips so that he would not get handed out by the commander for his mistakes – after all, it was very difficult to get used to a routine that you never followed.

"I will never rise to your level of arrogance," Marcel leaned on the bedside table, crossing his arms over his chest. The grin was still on his face.

"That's true, that's true" Kohan adjusted his pillow.

After a few moments, Marcel felt the piercing gaze of one of the comrades on him. His jaw immediately tightened.

"Hey, Mars, what are you doing?" Luther frowned, and then he realized what was the matter.

It was a short, dark-haired lyre. One of the best fighters of the Guard. And also someone who didn't like Marcel. He was a little younger than him.

"Oh, him again," the redhead chuckled, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"Who?" Kohan asked without opening his eyes. He nudged Luther with his knee in a playful gesture.

"What do you think? Of course, it's Walter"

"It's not going to settle down"

"To be honest, it's starting to bother me," Marcel still did not show that something was wrong.

"Well, of course!" Luther couldn't sit still. "Who would like that!"

After a moment, he raised himself slightly, directing his face towards the troublemaker:

"Hey, Walter! Why is your face so strained? You should go to the toilet!"

Marcel shook his head wearily, while Kohan laughed soundlessly:

"The fun is about to begin."

"You should keep quiet, little one," the man immediately got mad. "Have you lost all fear?"