Finally back at camp, I was able to sit down and rest.
"Saved you some," one of the men said as Brenn and I settled onto a log.
A steaming bowl was pushed into my hands.
I muttered my thanks and dug in.
The beans had onions mixed through them and were flavored with some kind of meat. Judging by the taste, I guessed pork.
I smiled.
Pork was a rare treat back home.
The bread was fresh enough that it hadn't turned hard enough to crack a tooth.
Beside it sat a pale yellow wedge of something I'd never seen before.
It looked more like a cake than bread.
"What is this?" I asked.
Arn looked over.
"Journey cake."
I turned it over in my hand.
“Made from a grain that grows down south on the continent,” Arn said. “One of the farmers around here started raising it.”
"So why are we eating it?" I asked before taking a cautious bite.
"Nobody'll buy the stuff," another soldier snorted.
"They're wrong," Brenn said, tearing off a piece. "Just because it's different doesn't mean it's bad."
The first soldier shrugged.
"I heard the farmer's paying part of his taxes with it until folks come around."
"Or until the tax collector gets sick of eating it," someone farther down the fire joked.
A ripple of tired laughter went around the squad.
The journey cake was dry and crumbly.
After another bite I simply broke it into my bean stew.
That worked much better.
It soaked up the broth until it became soft enough to eat with a spoon.
I nodded to myself.
"It'll fill a belly."
Brenn glanced sideways at me.
"That's about the highest praise a soldier ever gives his supper."
***
Soon I was asleep with a warm belly, almost-clean clothes, and my first real battle behind me.
The camp didn't grow quiet. Soldiers, I was beginning to learn, always talked before they slept.
I heard their voices through half-closed eyes.
Then I heard my name.
“Think he'll make it?”
Brenn didn't answer immediately.
“If luck holds—and he keeps listening instead of thinking he knows everything—he just might.”
I smiled despite myself.
Then sleep claimed me.
***
That night, while the army counted its dead and measured the cost of victory, I slept without dreams. Morning came far too early.
Habit had me awake before the sun. For a moment I lay there, expecting to see the faint orange glow of the banked campfire.
Instead...
Words floated in the darkness before my eyes.
I froze.
They weren't painted on canvas.
They weren't carved into wood.
They simply... existed.
You have attained thirteen years of age.
You are now eligible to join the System.
A class must be selected within twenty-four hours.
Limited guidance is available.
Available Classes:
Farmer
Laborer
Craftsman's Apprentice
Soldier
Scout
Teamster
Hunter
Guardian
Spear Adept
Fated Swordsman
I stared at the list.
Farmer.
That one I understood.
Laborer.
I'd practically been one my whole life.
Craftsman's Apprentice...
Master Helmut would probably laugh himself silly if I came home with that.
Soldier made sense.
Scout.
Hunter.
Teamster...
That one caught my attention.
If I became a Teamster, maybe I could look after horses for a living. I already ran the stable, and perhaps one day I could work my way up to managing a livery.
That didn't sound like such a bad life.
Then my eyes drifted farther down.
Guardian.
Spear Adept.
Fated Swordsman.
I had never heard of any of them.
My mouth suddenly felt dry.
I reached out, trying to brush the glowing words aside.
Nothing happened.
I waved my hand through them.
The words remained exactly where they were, as though they weren't really there at all.
Wonderful.
I wasn't even sure if anyone else could see them.
My stomach gave an entirely different reminder.
First things first.
I needed water.
And the latrine.
Preferably in that order.
I climbed quietly from my blanket and started toward the edge of camp.
The glowing words drifted along beside me.
"So much for pretending they aren't there," I muttered.
The dawn air was cool, carrying the smell of damp earth, wood smoke, horses, and far too many soldiers living in one place.
At least some things still made sense.
The System...
That could wait until I'd emptied my bladder.
One problem at a time.
As I sat on the latrine, I kept trying to push the glowing words away.
The first few times nothing happened.
Then, with what felt like a deliberate effort, they simply... vanished.
I let out a relieved sigh.
"Well, that's better."
At least I didn't have to stare at them while I was relieving myself.
Once I had finished and washed my hands, I made my way back toward my bedroll. The camp was only just beginning to stir. Fires were being coaxed back to life, and somewhere a cook was already shouting at someone for stealing breakfast before it was ready.
I sat cross-legged on my blanket.
"Come back," I whispered, feeling slightly foolish.
The words appeared again immediately.
So they could be dismissed.
That was useful.
I looked over the list once more.
Instead of trying to decide, I remembered something my Da used to say.
"When you don't know the value of something, ask someone who does."
I wasn't sure there was anyone awake yet who could answer.
Perhaps the System could.
I fixed my eyes on the first class.
Farmer.
"I'd like more information."
The list shimmered.
The other choices faded, leaving only a single panel floating before me.
Farmer
Common Class
Those who feed kingdoms often shape them more than kings.
Class Benefits
Improved crop yields.
Greater understanding of soil and weather.
Increased stamina while performing agricultural labor.
Enhanced care of livestock.
Minor resistance to fatigue during extended physical work.
Advancement Paths: 14 Known.
I rubbed my chin.
So the System would explain the choices.
That was good. I wasn't about to make the biggest decision of my life based on names alone.
I dismissed the description and studied the list again.
“I suppose I should start with the ones I'm actually interested in.”
There wasn't much point learning about a class I'd never choose.
Teamster.
Soldier.
Craftsman's Apprentice.
Those were lives I could picture.
They were jobs I understood.
Jobs I could take home with me once my service was done.
I could almost see myself back in the village, working from dawn until dusk, putting food on the table for my sister and brothers.
Everything after that...
Well...
I'd have to learn.
"Lad... are you all right?" I heard Brenn ask.
I'd been sitting there for several minutes, staring into nothing while I worked my way through the list only I could see.
I looked up.
"I'm fine," I said with a sigh. "It turns out... today's my birthday."
Well, happy birthday, lad.” Brenn smiled.
Then his expression changed.
“Wait.”
Understanding dawned across his face.
“Oh.”
His head snapped toward the cookfire.
"Corporal!" he bellowed.
Corporal Dren looked up from where he was checking the morning ration barrels.
"What?"
Brenn pointed at me.
"He's awakened."
Dren blinked.
"Well..."
He wiped his hands on his tunic.
"Let's have a look then."