“Please stand in the center of the room.”
Ren did as instructed, with two younger men following behind. He turned to face the front of the small chamber: a large, purple, gold, and red flag with an eagle, fasces, and crown - the Empire’s enign - hung on the wall.
Beyond the three of them, two guardsmen and the Cohtarch stood by near the doorway. While the latter merely observed, one of the guardsmen issued commands in Anglish while the other did so in Novolatin.
“Face the banner, and raise your right arms in a salute as has been demonstrated.”
While the other two quickly threw their arms in the air, Ren hesitated for a split second. Motioning to do so, he was uncomfortable yet knew its necessity; in this world, the connotations of the Roman salute weren’t the same, but regardless it felt taboo. If that wasn't all, he was breaching every oath he made back home by going through with this... too late now, though.
“Please repeat after me:
I, 'your name', do solemnly swear by the Gods above this holy oath-”
“I, Renat Flavious Gavriel, do solemnly swear by the Gods above this oath,”
“-that to our Emperor and Valentian people-”
“That to our Emperor and Valentian people,”
“-I shall render my unconditional obedience, and that as the Empire’s defender-”
“I shall render my unconditional obedience, and that as the Empire’s defender,”
“-I am prepared to give my life for this oath.”
“I am prepared to give my life for this oath.”
As soon as the oath was completed, the three guardsmen clicked their heels together and saluted the banner alongside the three recruits.
“AVE IMPERATOR! AVE REM PUBLICAM! AVE IMPERII!” the Cohtarch shouted;
“Ave imperii!” replied the Empire’s newest soldiers.
• • •
Holding up a lantern, the guardsman walked down the dark fortress hallway with Ren close behind. With each step, the keys on his hips jingled, echoing down the now-empty passageway’s stone walls ominously. Habitually checking the old wooden doors on either side of them, the guardsman eventually stopped short of a door cracked open.
“‘ere we are. You’ll be in these quarters ‘till morning. Go’n find yerself an empty bed.”
Ren stepped into the large, densely packed room, containing several rows of bunks with footlockers and a few scattered desks. Roughly three-quarters seemed occupied. Now whispering, he said “Sounds good, so I’ll-”
Turning around, he found the guardsman had already vanished; poking his head out the door, he saw the guardsman’s lantern light swinging halfway down the hallway already.
“Hmph.”
Retreating back into his apparent quarters, he approached an empty top bunk and began to undress, when the bottom bunk’s resident, face shrouded in darkness, began to quietly speak. “Well, well, well! Look who made it out this far.”
Recognizing the voice, Ren exclaimed “Junling?!”
Realizing his mistake, a groan soon came from a bunk over. “Tace!”
“Nos paenitet.” Junling replied in Novolatin. “...but yep. I said I’d see you around if you joined, didn’t I?” He sat up in his bunk, now visible in the moonlight bleeding through the room’s sparse windows. “I can’t say I expected to so soon, though.” he said, grinning.
Another groan.
“...though I think we’d be better off chatting in the morning instead.” Junling whispered, leaning back into his bunk again.
Ren sighed, climbing up into his top bunk. “Agreed.”
• • •
“...you seriously got escorted by a Cohtarch?” Junling asked, clearly shocked.
“Yeah, pretty sure. I still have no clue what the rank structure here even is, though.” Ren replied, looking into the gruel in front of him.
The two had mustered earlier to the fortress wing’s chow hall, seemingly beating the masses, though, with the quality of the food given, the two early birds questioned if the worm was worth it. He could only complain so much, though; over the past week or so, he had only been able to eat sporadically, when food was provided. Now that he was in the Imperial Guard, perhaps things would begin to be more organized.
Stirring his spoon in the slop-like gruel, Junling thought for a moment before answering. “A Cohtarch is kinda like a, uh, general maybe? No, no, a general would be… Hmmm… Perhaps… Yeah, so a Cohtarch is essentially a colonel, if I’m remembering what ‘colonel’ means correctly. We don’t really see too many around here, and they’re usually pretty senior.”
“Huh.” Ren replied. “A bit higher up than I figured, but I’m not terribly surprised. He talked about some new ‘directive’ the Empire had, something about modernizing the forces, more or less explaining why I was being treated so nicely.”
Junling grinned once again. “Guess we’re here for the same reasons, then?”
“The same reasons? I never did ask what you needed to do up here, did I?”
Junling continued to play with his gruel, having evidently lost hope in the prospect of it being actually edible. “Apparently, the Empire doesn’t want their multilingual outsider guardsman to sit around all day counting horses on the heartland’s outer edge anymore. I’ll be taking a few tests, doing some interviews, yada yada yada, so that I can get transferred over to some newfangled ‘human intelligence’ unit stationed here.”
Ren chuckled. “Didn’t much take you for a spy or an interrogator, but I guess I can see where they’re coming from. Before I get dragged off to god-knows-where, you got any tips for me for surviving you guys’ basic trai-”
“Would you be mister Renat Gavriel?” a voice behind him said, making him levitate for a moment.
“Good lord, I- ...yes, that’s me.”
“Come with me, we should be heading out shortly.”
Ren stood up, hardly enthusiastic but regardless ready to get the ball rolling.
“Don’t worry about your chow, I’ll deal with it.” Junling said, smiling mischievously. “Have fun at boot camp. You’ll know where to find me... if you survive.”
