Recruit

The man reclined in the chair, his penetrating gaze fixed upon Wayne. "What is your name, young man?" he inquired, his voice carrying a weight that demanded both attention and reverence. Wayne, feeling a subtle tension in the air, responded with measured respect, "My name is Wayne."

The commander leaned forward, his gaze unwavering as he addressed Wayne with a firm yet measured tone. "Alright, Wayne. We need you to tell us about the individuals you encountered today. Provide us with detailed descriptions," he instructed, the weight of the situation palpable in the air. Wayne, aware of the gravity of the request, took a moment to gather his thoughts before responding. The room, illuminated only by a dim overhead light, seemed to heighten the sense of urgency and scrutiny.

As Wayne meticulously recounted the encounters with the five individuals, his narrative flowed seamlessly, vividly depicting each person with a painter's precision. However, as the conversation veered towards the events involving his parents, an unexpected shadow crept over him. The air in the room seemed to thicken, and an undeniable tension settled like a heavy fog.

As he approached the harrowing details, a palpable shift occurred in Wayne's demeanor. His voice, once steady and composed, now wavered with the weight of the unspoken. The lines etched on his face deepened, revealing a complexity that transcended mere recounting.

When he reached the part about his parents, a torrent of emotions surged within him, threatening to breach the carefully constructed walls he had erected. The vulnerability he had concealed beneath his narrative now surfaced, and tears welled up in his eyes, glistening like dewdrops on the edge of a precipice.

With every word, the pain etched in Wayne's heart manifested in the silent language of tears streaming down his cheeks. His once clenched fist now trembled, fingers grappling with the intensity of emotions. The room, which had been a stage for storytelling, transformed into an intimate space where the rawness of human experience took center stage.

Gritting his teeth in a desperate attempt to contain the torrent of emotions, Wayne's eyes mirrored a profound mix of terror and fear. The vulnerability laid bare in that moment spoke volumes about the depth of his ordeal. The commander, observing this unraveling of emotions, recognized that beyond the surface of information lay a personal saga intertwined with pain, loss, and a struggle against the encroaching darkness. In that tear-stained revelation, Wayne became more than a witness; he became a living testament to the human cost embedded in the story he had to tell.

"Alright, the information you provided is sufficient. Follow Fern; he'll assist you in locating any relatives you may have in this area," Commander Isaac instructed, his gaze shifting from the documents strewn across his desk to meet Wayne's eyes.

Wayne, however, lowered his gaze, a somber expression clouding his features. "No, I don't have any relatives here," he replied quietly, a weight of loneliness evident in his words as his eyes fixated on the floor.

Commander Isaac, his stern demeanor softened by genuine concern, probed further, "So, you're saying you're alone?"

"Yes, sir," Wayne affirmed, his response punctuated by the solitude that echoed in his words.

The Commander, contemplating this revelation, exchanged a glance with Fern, who stood by with an empathetic gaze directed at the young boy. Deciding on the next course of action, Commander Isaac instructed Fern to guide Wayne to a shelter designed for those without familial ties.

Before they left, Ralph, who had been silently observing the proceedings, couldn't contain the fire of determination burning in his eyes. "What does it take?" he questioned, his voice edged with a mix of sorrow and rage. "I want to join you, to eradicate those monsters that took away my family."

A poignant silence enveloped the room as Commander Isaac grappled with the weight of Wayne's request. The tears in Wayne's eyes spoke of a grief-fueled resolve that struck a chord with the Commander. "Wait until you're 15; then you can join," Commander Isaac responded, his eyes returning to the documents before him. "We have a specific age range for recruitment, from 15 to 20—no older, no younger."

Wayne, sensing the gravity of Wayne's emotions, nodded in agreement with the Commander's terms. As he left the office accompanied by Fern, a silent camaraderie formed between them. The journey ahead might be daunting, but Wayne, who had transitioned from tears to purpose, now walked with a newfound resolve, and Fern couldn't help but be surprised by the transformation in the boy who, just an hour ago, had been engulfed in grief.

"Hey kid, joining the Yeiri out of revenge? You won't last a day with that mindset," Fern remarked casually as they strolled together. With a practiced ease, he removed his hoodie and stuffed his hands into his pockets, waiting for Wayne's response. However, the young boy remained silent, leaving the question hanging in the air.

Navigating through the streets, Fern garnered nods of recognition from locals, attesting to his affiliation with the Yeiri. On the other hand, Wayne's blood-stained attire drew curious stares from passersby. Deciding it was time for a change, Fern led Wayne to a designated Yeiri bath, a place designed to cleanse both people and their clothes from the stains of battle. Simultaneously, Wayne was instructed to wash up, burn his soiled garments, and don a fresh set of clothing.

Their journey continued to a dwelling where survivors sought refuge. Fern introduced Wayne to a small family of two, entrusting their care to them. After brief exchanges, Fern left to return to his responsibilities within the Yeiri camp.

Wayne, now surrounded by the unfamiliar warmth of a family, found himself uneasy. The mother, curious and caring, initiated a conversation. "What's your name?" she asked, her two daughters eyeing Wayne with a mix of curiosity and intrigue. Wayne, maintaining politeness, replied, "My name is Wayne."

The mother, impressed, turned to her daughters. "Look at that, Angela and Paira, he's very nice." The girls, around Wayne's age, observed him intently. Angela's gaze, in particular, made Wayne uncomfortable, prompting him to shift uncomfortably.

As the conversation unfolded, the mother inadvertently touched a sensitive chord when inquiring about Wayne's family. Folding his hands and legs, Wayne's demeanor shifted. Realizing her misstep, the mother apologized, expressing regret for her unintentional intrusion.

To ease the tension, she excused herself to fetch something to lift Wayne's spirits. As she walked towards the kitchen, Wayne seized the opportunity to slip away quietly, seeking a moment of solitude in a place where he could gather his thoughts away from prying eyes and well-intentioned questions.

He looked out of the window as watched people outside walking around happily and peacefully. Wayne wondered how they can be that happy with what was happening outside.

"Hey, that's my spot," a voice declared from behind Wayne. Turning around, he found a boy of his age standing there.

"Ah, sorry," Wayne apologized, offering a quick gesture of regret.

"No prob, let's just share it," the boy responded with a nonchalant grin. "My name is Troy, what's yours?"

"I'm Wayne," he replied, and just like that, a camaraderie sparked, initiating the beginning of a newfound friendship, their smiles sealing the bond.

Fast forward 11 months...

"Bro, this training is absolute bullshit," Troy complained, sprawled on the ground, clutching a wooden stick fashioned like a sword.

"Come on, don't tell me that's all you've got," Wayne teased, a playful glint in his eyes as he observed his best friend from a standing position.

For almost a year, the duo had engaged in relentless training—building strength, practicing agility, and honing their fitness to a point where training consumed their entire day. Their commitment often landed them in trouble for returning home late.

Through these months, they not only strengthened their bodies but also gained invaluable experience in fights and skirmishes.

"Tomorrow marks the end of our wait; turning 15 means we can finally join the Yeiri," Wayne exclaimed with excitement.

"Finally, I'm going to take down those bastards who killed my family," Wayne mused, lying on his back beside Troy, their eyes fixed on the night sky, smiles illuminating their faces.

One week later...

"Hello, cadets!" boomed Gyver, the stern trainer and recruiter for those aspiring to join and become Yeiri. Sixty pairs of eyes fixed on Gyver as they stood at attention, a diverse assembly of hopefuls, both girls and boys, gathered below the elevated stage where Gyver commanded attention.

"You brats all gathered here to become warriors, right?" he bellowed at them.

Silence pervaded, prompting another resounding shout from Gyver. "I said, right!" This time, the ground echoed the collective agreement, affirming their commitment.

"That's good," Gyver acknowledged, gesturing towards the woman beside him, clad in the distinctive Yeiri hoodie. "Meet the vice-captain of Yeiri, Miss Carleen Forbes. She's here to assess you, to see who might have what it takes to join our ranks."

Carleen, with a petite yet curvaceous physique, stood beside Gyver, a figure of authority and allure that subtly captivated the attention of her male counterparts.

In the back row of the line, Wayne and Troy stood at attention, absorbing the unfolding scene with rapt focus.

"Hello, new cadets. I'm here to shed light on what it truly means to join Yeiri," Carleen announced, folding her arms. The crowd listened with palpable excitement, eager to learn about the fabled Golden River.

"Have you all heard about the Golden River?" she inquired, scanning the attentive faces.

A collective silence hung in the air, prompting Carleen to proceed. "To qualify, you must undergo three weeks of training with Gyver. After that, you'll venture into the treacherous Horded Mountain, surviving until you reach the Great Liquentic Bridge. Fail, and you'll either meet your demise in the unforgiving mountain or return here to try again next time," she explained, turning and gracefully stepping off the stage.

As murmurs spread through the crowd, Wayne and Troy exchanged a hushed conversation. "What the heck, that sounds brutally straight," Wayne whispered.

Troy, undeterred, replied, "Well, that's the deal, bro. We wanted this, and this is what it takes."

"Shhh," a nearby girl hushed them.

Gyver, now on the ground, emphasized Carleen's words. "What she said is correct. Fail to train, venture into the mountain, and, hahaha, you might just meet your end!"

"Wait, are we dismissed? Is that it?" Troy questioned, glancing around.

Wayne, however, clenched his fist, a determined smile lighting up his face. "I'm coming for you, you bastards. Just you wait," he thought, ready to embrace the challenging journey ahead.

Chapter end