The ride back to the Fort was quiet.
Charon and Emerius sat in the back of an APC with a dozen other officers, all of them looking like they had been through the underworld and back.
Ironically, in a certain way of viewing things, they had been doing just that.
Things were tense between him and his friend, the two having not addressed the argument since it occurred.
’It’s better that way. I don’t know if we will ever see eye to eye on that subject. It doesn’t matter, anyway. Once we get back to the academy, he will go off to please his family, and I will be fighting for the Empire.’
It was that very thought process that kept him from breaking the ice, even when they rolled up into the hanger bay.
Without a word, the two stood and walked down the ramp, covering their eyes as the bright interior lighting oppressed their retinas, dark spots appearing in their vision.
’Gods, have any of these people considered mood lighting? Between this and the endless sunshine outside, I doubt I’ll see darkness ever again.’
A mousy-looking man soon approached them and identified himself as the attendant assigned to them.
"If you could please follow me, the First Among Elders is expecting you in his private study. He does not like to be left waiting; some expediency would be appreciated."
Deciding it was in his best interest not to sour any good grace he had with the old man, Charon quickly followed the attendant, making some casual small talk along the way. He asked about the Fort and the military hierarchy, hoping to get a sense of day-to-day life for someone who lived there.
"It is pleasant enough if you work hard. The city provides everything you could need, from food to entertainment, purpose, and safety. The only difficulty most face is trying to maintain their position."
Studying the circuitry running along the steel wall, Charon absentmindedly responded, hoping to give the impression he was listening while not prying too deeply.
"Position? What is that?"
"Everyone in the Fort has a position determined by how much they provide. Those who serve as menial laborers are at the bottom. Military service places you above them, with your rank determining how high that brings you. Then we have the leaders at the top, such as the officers and High Elders."
It seemed simple enough, if a little obvious, until the attendant continued.
"Those at the bottom are often denied anything more than the bare minimum to survive, with resources being prioritized for the more useful classes. This way we can emphasize commitment and service to the Fort and the High Elders."
Slightly turning his head, Charon’s mouth dropped in mild surprise before shutting, his guise almost faltering.
"What’s the bare minimum?"
The attendant shot him a look like it was obvious.
"Calorie bars and a bed in the outskirts of the city. Any other variation in food or lifestyle must be earned through a special exemption. It keeps their status clear, while not allowing any leeches to take root."
Outwardly, Charon only gave an approving grunt, but his mind was exploding.
’Nothing? They get nothing? That’s unfair, backwards! Sure, menial laborers might not be the most valuable group, but they should still be able to earn a modest living.’
Even as an orphan, he had been able to enjoy simple pleasures like books and holo-vids. They had allowed him an escape from life through the tales of heroes and their experiences. Without that, he might not have involved himself with the Dark Mage’s fight against the Elf and his Phoenix.
’Without being allowed to provide for myself, I never would have been able to come here.’
What rubbed him the wrong way was not necessarily how the people weren’t given extra amenities, but the specific word the attendant used.
That implied it was a rule, a law to be upheld.
Charon’s gaze momentarily flicked to Emerius, the blonde teenager oblivious to his thoughts.
’Was he right? Is the Fort much better than the Claytons? Do I need to consider deserting?’
Before he could ask any clarifying questions, they arrived outside a nondescript door on the far side of the facility. A red light hung above the doorframe, changing to green when the attendant flashed a badge.
With a bow, the man adjusted his glasses and left, not even offering a proper goodbye.
Sharing a puzzled look with Emerius, the duo watched the metal door slide open with a hiss, the two halves being pulled to the side. Inside, they found a cozy den, complete with a roaring fireplace and walls of bookshelves.
Sitting on a leather lounger was an elderly looking gentleman in a black suit without a tie. The edges of his shirt were untucked, and frills decorated the cuffs. A neatly trimmed mustache and beard sat on his face, a mixture of white and gray hairs.
In his hands sat a book, a real one with paper pages. He was about halfway finished with it, gingerly setting a square of cloth on the seam before closing with a thump.
His strong voice boomed out to address them, filling the room while also coming across as soft and even-tempered.
"I had not expected to be speaking to you again so soon, Charon, and yet reports from the Battle for Islys have mentioned your name more than once."
The High Elders’ piercing blue eyes turned to Emerius.
"Yours as well, Emerius. I had hoped that two Novice mages fighting in a war for the first time would ignite ambition, pushing you towards training and growth to earn the Fortress of Souls."
His lips curved in a smile that broke the illusion of a perfectly symmetrical beard.
"It seems that you have decided to try a different path altogether, ignoring the same steps most warriors take and leaping into the halls of legends."
Charon controlled his expression at the praise, not wanting to let his emotions slip out. When dealing with people as powerful as the High Elders, caution seemed to be valuable.
The man rose, the motion fluid and youthful despite his age. He took a few measured steps to one of the shelves and carefully inserted the book he was reading into a neat gap. Glancing at it, Charon narrowed his eyes and read the title.
’Legacy of the Hyperboreans, Volume Six. Where do I know that word, Hyperboreans?’
He felt like he had heard it once before recently, but nothing came to mind, leaving him annoyed.
The High Elder turned back to face them, his arms crossing behind his back. A glint of something shiny appeared near his collar before vanishing, leaving Charon to wonder if he had imagined it.
"We all owe both of you a debt of gratitude that is not easily repaid, yet I feel obligated to try all the same. After speaking with my fellow Elders, we have reached the decision that you are to both be raised to the rank of lieutenant, effective immediately. This comes with all of the benefits you would expect, such as proper housing and meals near the center of town."
He paused to let the information sink in.
’A lieutenant? So soon? That was easier than I thought! If Emerius and I start having command positions, we can coordinate our efforts to get us closer to the Fortress of Souls.’
It also provided him with more opportunities to test and grow his abilities, something he desperately needed.
’I need to get used to the pain when my summons die. I should be able to ignore hundreds of skeletons dying every minute, otherwise I will have a massive weakness in battle.’
Emerius crossed his arms, his tattered robes fluttering with the motion. The gold lining was mostly gone, ripped from the fabric during the hectic fighting.
If they were back at the academy, Charon would have assumed he was a beggar.
"Thank you for this gift, High Elder. We only wish to go home, yet your kindness makes us feel welcome in this foreign place."
The corners of the man’s eyes crinkled in confusion before widening in slight shock.
"Think nothing of it, all who belong to the Fort are rewarded for the deeds they do. Those who do great things receive it in kind."
Charon inwardly smirked.
’Emerius grew up with all kinds of nobles and etiquette. The High Elders weren’t expecting someone so well raised to be here.’
Realizing it was his turn to speak, Charon tilted his chin downward and did his best to sound gratuitous.
"Thank you, High Elder. It means a lot."
The man nodded and raised an open palm, gesturing towards the door.
"You are free to go, Lieutenant Emerius. I would appreciate a moment alone with Charon."
Hestitating for just a second to send a quizzical look Charon’s way, Emerius took slow steps towards the door, shooting one last glance over his shoulder before stepping out.
The door closed behind him, leaving the two alone.