Laughing at the Ocean

"-chose you for a reason-"
A flash of blue-
"-a purpose-"
-his mother standing on a beach, watching the waves with her back to him-
"-it had to have."
-he runs and runs but can't reach her-
"You're a paladin of-

Lance blearily opens his eyes and glances over at the digital clock on his bedside table. The digits are too bright for his half-asleep state and he winces, closing his eyes momentarily. He turns back to the clock and-

"Shit!" The bright red digits read 05:55. The guy from yesterday, Commander... something-or-other told them to be in the courtyard by 6am. Lance throws the remainder of his sheets onto the floor and hurries round his room, frantically pulling clothes out and throwing them around his room. By the time he's ready, it's 06:05. He sighs, better late than never, right?

He gets to the courtyard and sees everyone standing in lines and the Commander from yesterday yelling. Lance swallows, brushes his hair out of his face, and saunters into place. There's always the possibility that he won't be noticed-

Nope. He was noticed. The Commander (Commander Iverson! That was his name!) was glaring at him as he slowly moves over to Lance.
"Name." he barks. Lance swallows and tries for a charming smile. It doesn't seem to work.

"Lance McClain."

"That's Lance McClain, Sir!" Iverson bellows.

"Oh, sorry." Lance stands silent as commander Iverson glares at him. "Oh wait, you mean you want me to say it that way now. Well I'll just..."

"Name!" Iverson barks again.

"Lance McClain, Sir!"

Iverson seems satisfied and he steps back. He clears his throat and shouts through the courtyard:
"Your behavior is unacceptable. If you continue like this, I will personally see to it that you are expelled. Do you understand me?" Lance winces slightly. Expelled?
"Yes sir!" shouts Lance.

Commander Iverson walks back to the front of the formation, expression grim. "Cadets! You will stand at attention for fifteen minutes while Lance thinks about the importance of being on time!"

There's an immediate onslaught of complaints and a large number of cadets turn to glare at Lance.
"Face forward and stand at attention, cadets!" Iverson barks at them. He then stands at attention himself.

The courtyard is completely silent other than the occasional cough or low mutter, all of which are met with glares from Iverson.

Ten minutes in, the cadets start to look uncomfortable. Some had started to shake out their legs. Iverson notices and glares at them. "Stand still cadets!" After that no one moves.

Finally the fifteen minutes are up and Commander Iverson addresses them again. "Hopefully by now Cadet McClain will have understood the importance of being on time." He goes silent and lets that statement hang in the air before barking: "Cadets, dismissed!"

Lance nods awkwardly at the first few cadets that look at him, only to be met by glares and insults. Inwardly, he wilts. No one will want to be associated with him after that disaster.

Lance goes to follow the others, trailing at the back, but a hand on his shoulder stops him dead. He slowly turns, looking into the seemingly permanent scowl that mars Iverson's face.

"I hope you've learned your lesson, McClain. I was going easy on you this time." Public humiliation was meant to be his idea of easy? Lance tries his best to keep his face neutral.

"I understand, Sir. Thank you." Iverson's glare deepens.

"Don't thank me and don't do it again." Lance nods and hurries away, trying desperately to remember where to go, as well as put that whole experience out of his mind.