As an integrated member of the military forces of the Republic of Biscotti, morning wasn’t the call to wake up from one’s slumber, but the howling of the trumpet they all had to be accustomed to. It always resounded a little earlier than the rising of the daylight, as if someone was deliberately playing a trick on everyone. But Dragee knew that this was no joke.

His training bashed into his head with a hammer of iron, the soldier in training easily left his bed then rapidly put on a light chainmail under the traditional white uniform, adorned with faintly coloured bands of green. Around him, he could see that familiar faces, his comrades-in-arms, were dutifully executing the same gestures. The dormitory possessed no reflecting surfaces, so everyone had to make sure their own personal uniform, and also their neighbour’s, was well wore on.

They only had a short time at their disposal to arrive at their destination, that’s why they all jogged through the corridors, emerged outside in a hurry and quickly positioned themselves in a dignified salute to their still incoming superior. Dragee wasn’t so deft with his gear, and tumbled behind with a little delay. Fortunately, he was still in time to welcome the captain in charge of their training.

A freshly recruited soldier would directly be thrown into the muddy ground to steel both his body and mind, harassed by the harsh words of an officer, and pushed to his limits yet still unpermitted to give up. Discipline wasn’t just some songs and words thrown at anyone, it was required to drop those trashes in the fire, let them melt until they break down, then you could forge them as almost decent men-of-war.

However, the regiment Dragee was part of already went through this hellish beginning. Even better than formed soldiers, their good performances allowed them to open the entrance of a more honourable role. As the most promising and loyal pawns the army’s heads selected, they were chosen and officially became knights-in-training.

The usual speech began, preaching the republic’s values and code of honour, its merits and its glorious past. The way the captain had with the words almost made it sound like a bad propaganda, but common sense forbad the apprentices to make any remark about it. Dragee stood still, watching and listening to the speech until the end. It was close to nerve-wrecking to know that an even more hellish training was awaiting them, while they were locked in position during those long minutes of preaching.

Finally, they were sent away. The first exercise was the common marathon around the training ground, while loudly shooting the knight’s code and such under the tutelage of the never-tired captain. Then, unlike the soldiers who were from low lineage, the knights-in-training were ordered to go and pick their equipment to start practicing their combat prowess.

First, they needed to fetch their armour, cladding themselves with the hard and heavy plates of steel, covering their legs, their arms and their torso. They started putting on their helmet, but the captain roared that they won’t be wearing their helmet this time. There was no time to be confused, as it was a direct order from their superior. Everyone put down their helmet where they picked it up, then quickly came back in position, a wooden sword sheathed at their waist and a buckler attached to their forearm.

“Select a partner, and practice with him until you shed blood!”

Nobody complained, after all they were already used to beating each other until their opponent wouldn’t be able to hold a grasp on his sword anymore. It was all for training, so the worst that could happen was a broken bone. Yet, while wearing such defensive gears, even a scratch would not appear on their body. Except this time, they all had their face uncovered. A slash aiming at the head wasn’t against the rules, because there were no rules on the battlefield, but they all already forebode that anyone here would receive a serious injury if they weren’t attentive enough.

Dragee was randomly selected by a nearby comrade, and both prepared themselves for the incoming offensive manoeuvers of each other. Dragee quickly reassured his grip on his sword and his shield, then silently waited for the captain’s signal to begin. This suspense gave more than enough time for everyone to bet who would win this time.

Then, at last…

“… BEGIN!!”

“ORRAAAAAA!!”

The battlecry echoed through the whole training ground, announcing the commencement of the apprentices’ duels.

Dragee’s opponent was a little bit bigger than him, meaning his own range would be shorter than his. He was already used to this disadvantage, as he was the smallest of the group.

That was why, zealously, he rushed forward, dashing his way toward his adversary and sliced his legs. The hit missed as the foe jumped and rolled in the air, landing next do Dragee to chain with a horizontal attack at his neck.

The sword met the shield and was deflected, but he lost no time and took advantage of his balance to throw a kick at Dragee’s stomach. He twisted his body to dodge the foot, but was still barely scratched, the force of the attack sending him a meter back.

This time, it was his contender that dashed toward him, rising his sword with the clear intention to mark his head with a bruise. Dragee felt like he was being bullied for being shorter, but quickly swallowed back his words and played with his footing to step out of the attack’s direction.

Making a quick rotation to reposition and amass kinetic energy, Dragee firmly threw the wooden blade at his opponent’s back, which was skilfully parried by the opposing sword.

A fast whirlwind of slashes and slices followed, then ended with a thrust again aiming at Dragee’s neck, but was misfired in the hurry and loudly bounced on the shoulder.

A sharp weapon would have pierced his skin, draining his blood and stamina while neutralizing his arm holding the shield, but a wooden thingy could at best inflict blunt damages in the hands of amateurs. The small apprentice gritted his teeth in order to suppress the pain, growling as he backed to catch his breath.

“You can continue?”

His opponent held his ground, fully knowing the rules of the training. Once a clear hit was noted, they had to analyse the gravity of the injury, and judge if it would be detrimental to pursue the training or not. Following the rule, Dragee rolled his shoulder, pivoted his arm and tested his hand to see if he could notice any abnormalities. The funny thing was, despite the burning pain he felt on the instant, the actual evaluation he made proved that his body was well trained to resist such attacks.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s go.”

He smirked, satisfied, before readying himself for another round.

 

***

 

“Halt! In position, apprentices!”

The training was suddenly put to a stop by the captain who ordered the trainees to come back in position. They quickly understood that it was for saluting another superior arriving, but this time, they all were formally aware of what presence was approaching. Everybody held their breath, hoping to display the best of them, while Dragee could feel a cold sweet on his back.

“Everyone, salute Paladron d’Arquien, First General of the army!”

Introduced by the captain, the group of rookies couldn’t help but try and steal glance at the most inspiring and charismatic person of the military forces of the republic. In short words, he was at the head of the army, the one receiving orders directly from His Majesty and commanding all of the troops that were wearing the uniform of Biscotti. Not only was he a born leader, even his might was plenty splendid and proved to be the definitive strategy to overwhelm the enemy.

His severe eyes were scanning the surrounding apprentices, as if he was looking for a wolf in a sheep cloth in his own troops. His long and brown ears were standing straight on top of his head, looking like they were able to listen to anyone’s heartbeat. He really looked like your resolute commander, one able to make the needed decision at the most critical times. He really looked like the kind of man in charge, capable of sacrificing whatever he needed to in order to protect his country and his people.

In comparison, Dragee felt somewhat ridicule with his short size, his falling green canine ears, his frail stature and his weak strength. He always felt a sort of wall in front of him that even those long-lasting years of hardship on the training ground couldn’t break down. Deep inside him, he felt limited. It shamed him, but also motivated him to bring the better of himself. If he couldn’t do it now, he would eventually manage to achieve it another day.

Paladron was whispering with the captain, and even if the apprentice at the front could hear if they perked their ears, nobody dared to eaves-drop on the First General. The captain seemed somehow flustered, probably was he trying to confirm the thoughts of the general or something like that, because he then did his best to hide his dejection on his face while looking at Dragee.

“I’m screwed” he deeply thought. He didn’t know why or for what reason, but if your superior in charge was throwing you this face, it could only bring bad omen over your head. He held his breath, waiting for whatever was coming at him.

…

“Dragee Martinozzi! Come forth!”

“Yes, sir!”

Still obeying his captain’s order, Dragee brought himself under the spotlight, walking out of the group’s position and, without flinching, stood straight there, and once more waiting for his superior’s words.

“Starting today, you will be transferred to the National Research Institute sector. Go deposit your equipment, then you will be placed under the orders of your First General.”

“Yes, sir!”

It took all discipline Dragee learnt to avoid biting his tongue in this dire situation. Transferred to the research center? This basically meant that he would be leading a guinea pig’s life for now. He would be the first to experiment the mad scientists’ attempts, and succumb to the ô so unforeseen bad effects they could bring. Swallowing back his sigh, Dragee returned his plates, sword and shield, only wearing the uniform when he came back standing next to Paladron.

The pressure, of course, was immense on him. The event was unexpected, and was about to change his whole life in the army. He didn’t want any of this, but knew he had no choice but to follow the orders he was given.

And to make everything worse, the First General was scanning him once more. Was he gauging his strength? Was he evaluating his body’s muscles? It was… Embarrassing, knowing that even Dragee wasn’t proud of his lack of prowess. But he stood still, maybe hoping that showing a strong façade would convince him.

“Good, follow me now.”

“Yes, sir!”

Did it work? Somehow, Dragee wasn’t hoping that it did. His hope laid elsewhere, on the possibility that he would be able to come back, healthy and in one piece.

 

***

 

As soon as they arrived at the research center’s door, Dragee was abandoned like a puppy by Paladron, derelict in front of the assistant in a white lab coat who led him in the bizarre place that was the home of the scientists. Opening the door of one of the sealed laboratory, Dragee was invited to step inside, before seeing the assistant closing the door behind him and disappearing for another duty.

Inside the room stood two persons, also wearing the usual white lab coat, the typical so-called uniform of the thinkers. One was as short as him, with distinctive orange hair and round ears, while the other was bigger in many terms, and also seemingly older.

“Dragee Martinozzi, I presume? Welcome to the National Research Institute. I am the Chief Researcher, and this young one here is Friture Elmar, a brilliant mind.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Dragee.”

“Uhm… Thanks.”

More used to the military ways than the normal introductions, Dragee was slightly feeling at loss here, trying to keep his composure but unable to hide his uneasiness.

“Did they explain to you the purpose of this experiment?”

“No… Not really. The First General, Paladron d’Arquien, gave me a short word on the subject, but was insistent on the confidential aspect of this experiment.”

“Oh, you were accompanied by the First General himself? That must have been quite the walk, right? Ah ah!”

Should he laugh? Shouldn’t he? His discipline and his admiration for the First General prevented him to do anything about this, be it stupid or natural.

“There is no need to be so strict, but well… It is indeed a very confidential experiment we are about to start. At first, I wanted some prisoners we could discreetly execute at the end of each try, unfortunately it proved to be more difficult on the paper. That’s why it all fell on your shoulder, as a knight-in-training who proved his loyalty… Sorry about that.”

The Chief tried to comfort Dragee, but he was no fool. He still knew that… Or was even more convinced that news leaking of this experiment would be sufficient to… Bring something big on them. He lacked the vocabulary to describe it, but was still able to understand this much, making him even more worried that he was.

“Then, shall we begin? Please remove your clothes. You can keep your underwear.”

Being ordered by a short scientist felt awkward for Dragee, but dared not to complain and did as he was told. They firstly needed to make sure their guinea pig was in good health, palpated various places on his body, measured his internal temperature, checked for anything wrong that would not be evident to appear for the naked eyes.

Seeing that the medical tests were satisfying, they led the apprentice inside a medium-sized chamber, and locked the door behind him. The new room’s wall was covered with white blankets or cushions, same with the floor. It was probably to prevent their guinea pig to hurt itself in some way.

“Please, stand in the middle of the room.”

The voice strangely echoed from somewhere, yet Dragee could still clearly hear them. Again, it was the young researcher that asked him. What was his name again? Friture something something… Whatever, he did what he was told, not hiding anymore his worried thoughts for the scientists.

“So… What am I supposed to do, now?”

Actually, he kind of expected to use a new kind of weapon, or digest a new sort of pill. Standing and waiting in a white and empty room was outside of his expectations, nourishing his anxiety even more.

“Can you hear me, Dragee? I’m the Chief Researcher, and I’ll be leading this experiment. Right now, Friture is making the last adjustments. It will take a short minute until… Oh, it’s done. Well, are you ready? How do you feel?”

“I feel… Normal?”

Not knowing what kind of answer to give, Dragee honestly answered on his physical state. Despite his burdened shoulder, he still was able to give or receive a punch, so he did feel fine, for now.

“Alright. Then we’ll begin experiment n°1. Please don’t hesitate to shoot if you feel weird or something.”

Should he still feel fine in this situation?

“Okay. I’ll start a countdown of five seconds. At the end of the countdown, Friture will start filling your room with divine energy. I’m sure you know what it is, right?”

Yeah, it was the stuff that fuelled some weapons he heard of. And now, they’re going to fill the room with this same energy. Nothing suspicious here.

“I will repeat myself. If you feel anything weird, don’t hesitate to shoot. It’s a cruel necessity, but for the record I will need you to understand that Friture and I are the only ones to judge if the experiment need to be put to a halt. If you understand, then raise your right arm and say it loudly.”

The rules were kind of boring, but well… Rules were rules. Abiding, Dragee raised his right arm, shooting at an invisible person that he clearly understood, repeating the words the Chief Researcher told him to say.

“Perfect. Thank you for your contribution, Dragee. I will now start the countdown.”

5…

He took a large breathe in.

4…

He savoured the instant.

3…

He expelled the air in his lungs, trying his best to calm down his throbbing heart.

2…

Soon. It will soon begin. He will be exposed to the dangerous divine energy for the first time of his life.

1…

Will he be able to come back to tell his tale?

0… Spreading the divine energy inside the chamber.

…

…

…

“Dragee, how do you feel? Still fine?”

When did he close his eyes? Was it due to fear? He felt like he was pulled out of a long slumber.

“Uhm… Yeah. Nothing to report, here.”

Did it fail? He felt no different at all… Or so he thought. Actually, he felt… Quite fine. He only noticed now that his shoulder didn’t pain him anymore. Did it simply vanish, or had those researcher did something to him?

“Really? Nothing at all?”

So they DID do something.

“Now that you ask… I don’t feel any more pain from my shoulder.”

They indeed diagnosed a slight injury at his shoulder. Nothing serious, but it was still there. And now it was gone.

“Really? That’s good. Now grit your teeth really hard.”

… What?

Before he could see anything, his face was smacking a sudden shovel appearing out of nowhere, from an orifice in the wall certainly, but he lost consciousness too quickly to notice it.

Yes, it was painful. Painful enough that his brain called for a break, and put Dragee in a coma-like state.

Then, his body exploded in a thick mist.

“Quick, disperse the fog!”

Someone activated the ventilators from the chamber to suck up the mist. And when everything became once more clear, Friture and the Chief Researcher looked for the body of their guinea pig.

Then, there he stood, lying flat on the ground… In the form of a furry ball.

…

“… It worked!”