‘Platoon One, March!’
The beat of footsteps matched the sound of Gin’s heart. His body wanted orders but his mind wandered off elsewhere. Despite all that, his senses heightened and he suffered an inexplicable calmness.
‘Platoon Two, March!’
At first, Gin contemplated who to talk to. The immediate option surrounding him was Sam, who stood right beside him, carrying a flag almost as big as the petite mage. However, every fibre of Gin’s body screamed a resounding “Don’t.” His throat squeezed tight and his brain went numb. In fact, thinking about anyone in his squadron almost brought Gin to his knees. He couldn’t bring himself to show their leader’s troubles, even if it could help solve his problems. Don’t, his pride spoke out.
‘Platoon Three, March!’
Then who? Gin looked ahead. Several blocks of mages kept shape. Each block contained its respective leader, a flag bearer and their battalion, most of whom belonged to squadron W (though a few unknown battalions could be spotted further along).
‘Platoon Four, March!’
Brim? the manush spotted the red hair of his friend. He dismissed the idea straight away but came back to it when he realised things might be different now. Talking with Joan gave Gin a goal, a reason to be open with others and, most important of all, an unsatiable desire to find the truth that alluded him for so long.
‘Platoon Five, March!’
Ok. Good start. Anyone else? Gin’s scanning landed him further along the sandy oasis where the battalions ahead turned right at the lake. Several squadron O higher-ups stood on either side of that point, including Gargarensis and Astral. Could he talk to either of them? No, he shook his head. Both would be too busy with the (predictable) upcoming war to be of meaningful help. And yet, he couldn’t shake off the feeling that he came close.
‘Platoon Ten, March!’
‘Eh?’ Gin snapped out of his trance.
‘Leader, it’s almost time,’ Sam whispered.
‘Eh?’ Gin repeated. His mouth quivered as he found no one in front of him all of a sudden. Already?
‘Platoon Twenty-Six, March!’
Instincts compelled Gin to go forwards. He kept to a one-two rhythm in his march while his battalion followed. Sam pointed the flag horizontal. At the end of the pole, two bells jingled, mimicking the pattern of the battalion’s march along the flower-filled, scorching sand.
Before he knew it, they turned at the lake, then stopped. Gargarensis and Astral stepped up, marching in the same one-two. They stopped, span and faced Gin’s battalion in one swift motion.
‘Attention!’ Gargarensis and Astral saluted.
‘Yes, Sir,’ Gin and his battalion gave a salute back. All except Sam who stabbed the flag into the ground instead.
‘At ease,’ Gargarensis let out the order.
Gin’s battalion complied, relaxed their arms and allowed their superiors to return to their original spot before continuing their march. Wait a minute…Superiors? A lightbulb lit up in his head. Could I speak to her?
‘Platoon Twenty-Seven, March!’
An unwavering smile filled Gin’s face. His heart went aflutter. He got it. He knew who to talk to. Someone who helped him out before. Someone who could get the truth, not only from her but from himself too. Someone who had a reason for him to get back to her. Why didn’t I think of her before? he cursed himself.
‘Leader?’
‘Yes?’ Gin looked down to a perplexed Sam.
‘Are you ok? You made lots of faces,’ he breathed heavy breaths after each word, ‘today.’
‘No,’ Gin gave a blunt response. He guided his battalion to a pocket of space dedicated to them, surrounded by the other platoons that went before. ‘I’m a little tired. Things are getting a bit busy and I need to speak to someone as soon as possible.’
‘Who?’
Gin raised a brow. ‘Brim.’
He didn’t want to talk about Artemis. A part of him still thought the ivory-clad woman didn’t exist. The other screamed against the idea. Why? He questioned his psyche. Joan wanted me to talk to others but why on earth am I not?
He didn’t have time to find an answer when several mimicry bestials marched through the gaps between platoons. They stopped at regular intervals and awaited further instruction with their chest puffed out and throats inflated like frogs.
Gargarensis took centre stage. He faced everyone with the rest of the higher-ups lined up behind him. Then, after a brief pause, he spoke. However, Gin couldn’t hear a thing. His battalion stood way too far back nor did he have the acute hearing of someone of Syndra’s calibre.
Should I get everyone to m-
‘“First off, I would like to extend a warm congratulations to all of squadron W and our own, new recruits,’” the mimicries echoed in unison, matching Gargerensis’ voice to a tee as if the poison elemental stood right beside them. ‘“You have trained to a high level of competence worthy of the Eurasian navy. However, that will soon be put to the test.”
Silence followed by the mimicries taking large, deep breaths ensued. Gargarensis scanned the area before continuing.
‘“As I speak, Triple-A is sending forces towards our ports. Some may have noticed it already but we already have set up plans prior to your graduation. Only now are we officially getting everyone involved. And, believe me, everyone will need to do their part if we are to win. I have high hopes for your role in this nonetheless.’”
At that, Gargarensis stepped back for Astral to take control of the situation. Once again, the speaker’s mouth moved before the mimicries repeated the words with pitch-perfect precision, “‘Battalion leaders will have a meeting with their respective colonels at midday tomorrow. Location will be disclosed later today. From guppies to sharks, congratulations on your graduation. May you do Eurasia proud. Now, stand! Salute!’”
The air thundered with a wave of moving hands and a chorus of “yes, sir!” Only when silence fell upon everyone did the fishman give the signal for dismissal. The rows ahead started their move and the land returned to a raucous stampede of endless marching.
However, Gin didn’t pay attention. He didn’t pay attention to his battalion’s upcoming turn to leave nor did he pay attention to his sleep-deprived condition coming to light. No, his mind focused on one, singular thought that made him do silent, continuous “hehs” (much to his peers’ concern).
This is my chance to talk to Artemis.
