"Look, there's the map that the lady told us about," Gai pointed out, his finger hovering just above a weathered piece of parchment pinned haphazardly onto the cluttered notice board. His eyes flickered over its faded edges and smudged ink, scanning for any useful information amidst the chaos of other scraps tacked around it—handwritten notes, warnings, and announcements layered so thick they nearly obscured one another.
The small foyer was a hive of restless energy. Boys of all ages jostled shoulder to shoulder in the cramped space, their hushed murmurs blending into a low, chaotic hum that echoed off the wooden walls. The air was stifling, heavy with the mingled scents of sweat and the unmistakable mustiness of an aging building. The occasional sharp tang of salt from the nearby sea slipped through the cracked windows, but it did little to freshen the room.
Louis sighed beside him, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "I guess we'll have to wait here until someone comes to help," There was a resigned tone in his voice as he rubbed at his eyes, which were shadowed by dark circles. His usual buoyant energy seemed dulled by exhaustion. "I just hope they don't take forever."
Gai studied Louis for a moment before cracking a faint smile. "Don't worry," he said, nudging him lightly on the arm. "You're in dormitory three with me. Looks like you're two beds down from mine."
Louis blinked at him in surprise. "What? You can read as well?" His words came out louder than intended, drawing a few curious glances from nearby boys. He flushed slightly but didn't backpedal.
"Yep," Gai replied simply, shrugging as if it were no big deal. A small smirk tugged at his lips as he gestured toward the map again. "Come on—I'll show you."
The two boys began weaving their way through the throng of bodies packed into the foyer. The narrow passage left between groups was barely wide enough for them to squeeze through without brushing against someone's arm or back. Gai felt elbows bump into him more than once and gritted his teeth as muttered apologies were sent his way.
Finally emerging into a short circular hallway, they both exhaled in relief at the extra breathing room. The corridor was dimly lit by a single flickering lamp mounted on the wall, casting long shadows that danced across scuffed wooden floors. Several heavy doors branched off from the hallway like spokes on a wheel, each marked with large green numbers painted in uneven strokes.
"There it is—three," Gai said as they approached one of the doors. He pushed it open to reveal their new quarters: a long rectangular room lined with bunk beds on either side. The beds were simple but sturdy, each separated by a small wooden table and a crate stationed neatly at its foot.
Louis let out a low whistle as he stepped inside. "Guess this is home for now," he murmured.
Gai scanned the room quickly and spotted his bed near the middle of the row on the right-hand side. He strode over to it and tapped the tag attached to its frame. "Here we go," he said before turning to point a little further down. "And there's yours—top bunk."
Louis followed Gai's gesture and climbed up to inspect his bed tag. Sure enough, his name was scrawled there in uneven handwriting that looked like it had been done in haste.
"Nice sword."
The voice came from nowhere—or so it seemed at first. Gai froze mid-step and instinctively reached for the hilt of the blade strapped to his side. His eyes darted around the room but found nothing unusual among the other boys who were quietly unpacking their belongings or chatting in low tones.
"No one ever looks up," came the voice again, this time tinged with amusement.
Gai tilted his head back sharply and squinted into the dim rafters above. A shadowy figure sat perched among the beams, legs dangling casually over one side as though they hadn't a care in the world. They were barely visible against what little light filtered through the dusty windows.
"Thanks," Gai replied cautiously after a beat of silence. He kept his tone even but didn't let go of his sword's hilt just yet. "It was a gift."
"A fancy gift for someone like you," they quipped with a grin that practically dripped mischief. "Better keep an eye on it—or those noble brats'll nick it before you can say 'thief.'"
Gai's jaw tightened slightly, but he forced himself to remain calm. "Thanks for the advice," he said dryly.
They chuckled softly and leaned back against one of the beams as though he owned it. "Don't mention it… mate. Be sure to check them out" They gestured lazily toward one of the crates below before vanishing back into the shadowy recesses of the rafters without another word.
Louis scrambled down from his bunk and yanked open his crate almost immediately after hearing the tip. A moment later, he emerged holding up what looked like a small loaf of rock-hard bread wrapped in coarse cloth.
"Rations," Louis muttered through a mouthful as he bit off a corner with some effort. The crunch was loud enough to make Gai wince.
"Ah… thanks," Gai called out toward where their unexpected visitor had been moments ago—but there was no response.
As more boys began filing into the dormitory in twos and threes, filling empty beds and crates along both sides of the room, conversations started springing up everywhere like small fires catching light. The air buzzed with whispered introductions, speculations about tomorrow's schedule, and occasional bursts of laughter that quickly died down again under wary glances from others.
It wasn't long before order was imposed by force of authority: a group led by a stern-faced man marched into their midst without ceremony or warning. The man's uniform—a dark green tunic accented with silver trim—immediately set him apart from everyone else present.
"I am Oswald," he barked, his voice cutting through the low murmur of voices like the crack of a whip. There was no preamble, no trace of pleasantries—just raw authority packed into a single sentence. The room fell silent at once, the chatter dying mid-breath as every boy turned to face him. Some stood at attention instinctively, backs stiffening, while others scrambled awkwardly to adjust their posture, unsure of what was expected. A few near the back exchanged uneasy glances, their movements hesitant like they were suddenly caught in a game they didn't know how to play.
The figure before them was tall and lean, his armour polished to perfection, each metal rivet gleaming under the dim torchlight. His sharp jawline was set in grim determination, and his piercing gray eyes swept over the room with calculated precision, as though he were mentally cataloguing each boy's potential—or lack thereof. He radiated authority, not just in the way he spoke but in the way he stood, shoulders squared and feet planted firmly apart, like a man who had spent years commanding respect.
"I'm second lieutenant here at Green Barracks," he continued briskly, his tone clipped and efficient, as though every word was too valuable to waste. He paused for a moment, letting the title hang in the air. The boys stared back at him, some wide-eyed with fear, others trying to mask their nervousness with blank expressions. But it was clear that most didn't fully grasp what his rank meant—or why it mattered.
Oswald's gaze narrowed as it landed on a cluster of boys at the back who seemed particularly lost. "For those who don't understand what that means," he added sharply, his voice rising just enough to command attention again, "I'm in charge."
Oswald surveyed them for another moment before continuing. "At dawn tomorrow," he said, his tone unyielding, "you will be issued your rations for the day. Until then, you are not to leave this building unless absolutely necessary—and by that, I mean if you need to use the latrine." He gestured curtly toward a door on the right side of the room without breaking stride. "It's through there."
His gaze swept over them again, pausing here and there as if daring anyone to challenge him. No one did.
"You will remain here for two nights," he went on, each word delivered with military precision. "We're waiting for latecomers to arrive before any further instructions are given. Until then—stay put." He let that final command linger in the air for a moment before adding briskly, "That is all."
Without waiting for questions or protests—neither of which seemed likely—Oswald turned on his heel and marched out of the room, his boots striking the wooden floor with rhythmic finality. The heavy door thudded shut behind him, leaving a silence so thick it was almost suffocating.
Gai let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and glanced around at his new companions. Most were already turning their attention to their belongings—unrolling thin bedrolls onto narrow cots that lined the walls or rummaging through small bags for something to eat or drink.
"Who does he think he is?" someone muttered from a corner near the back—one of the boys Oswald had singled out earlier for looking confused. His voice was low but edged with defiance.
"Second lieutenant," another boy replied dryly as he dropped his pack onto a cot with a dull thud. "Didn't you hear him? He's in charge."
A ripple of nervous laughter spread through the group at that—brief but enough to break some of the tension. Gai managed a small smile but said nothing as he sank down onto his own cot near the middle of the room.
The mattress beneath him was thin and lumpy, offering little comfort after what had already been an exhausting day. Gai lay back anyway, staring up at the dark ceiling above him as snippets of conversation buzzed softly around him like distant echoes.
Gai closed his eyes and let the voices fade into background noise as he sunk into a weary sleep.