86th of Vhalar, Arc 712
"Are you fresh recruits, or almost fully trained legionnaires?" The instructor bellowed, as some forty muddy, utterly exhausted recruits ran in imperfect unison. She was a grizzled old Thiussum, clearly a veteran of many battles, and though she'd been running at the same pace as her recruits for just as long, she seemed barely out of breath, at least judging by the volume of her 'encouragement'.
There was a track of sorts around the training field, worn into the dirt and grass by countless feet, and four ditches dug along the track at even intervals; the trainees had spent the last two breaks running between them, and practicing jumping the ditches. Almost every trainee was covered in mud to some degree or another, and as the training run came to its last lap, many of them were beginning to lag behind. Many of the ones beginning to flag were humans, but there were a fair few ithecal among them too, as well as several humans leading the pack with the best of the ithecal.
Kaldwyn Devuo, much to his obvious frustration, was not one of them. The sleek young human wasn't quite at the very back of the troop, but he hovered in that approximate area as he ran, sweat pouring down his handsome face and soaking his brown curls as he gasped and wheezed. Praetorum, in somewhat better shape, easily kept pace with him, always just a step or two ahead.
He could have moved on ahead, he knew. Prae wasn't the fittest of the trainees by a long shot, but he had been born with the physique for it, and his mother had kept both of her children in good condition, so he'd always been above average among his peers. But Kaldwyn was a stubborn bastard, and Praetorum had learned that his friend responded better to light teasing and healthy competition than encouragement, so Praetorum made sure to stay within his sight.
Why Praetorum had taken an interest in this particular person, and why he was so invested in seeing him succeed, Prae couldn't have said. All he knew was, his presence seemed to make the human push himself, and the human's aggressive attitude always set off Praetorum's own competitive streak, all of which made for an interesting friendship. Or was it a rivalry? He wasn't really certain. Either ways, Praetorum enjoyed it. The two of them pushed each other, and to be perfectly honest with himself, his interactions with Kaldwyn helped to ease the strangeness of being separated from his brother.
"Pick it up!" The instructor barked, running alongside the stragglers. "And you there!" She pointed at Praetorum accusingly. "Get back up front! I know you can do better than this."
Whoops. Caught out.
Not daring to look back at Kaldwyn, Praetorum picked up his pace obediently, slowly making his way back towards the front of the group. As they neared the end of the field, the front runners picked up their pace, gathering momentum to leap their way over the ditch, and Praetorum did the same, readying himself mentally for the worst part of this exercise.
The ditches were dug every morning by half of the trainees, to very precise specifications. Each ditch was ten feet in width, and around fifteen feet deep, growing shallower on the ends to allow those who'd fallen in to crawl out again. Even for a human, ten feet was wasn't a difficult jump to make, especially given the physical training they had been going through over the past season.
It became significantly more difficult when one was wearing full kit—plate armour, tower shield and two weapons.
Of course, it would have been a waste for them to wear real armor and weapons for training, and risk damaging it. For one thing, everything they were going to be wearing was going to have to be thoroughly washed before it was wearable again. So instead, they carried packs, with a roughly equivalent weight in them, and had training weapons at their hips.
Even so, a ten foot jump would have been, if not easy, at least achievable, even with all that extra weight, under the best of circumstances.
The end of a two hour training exercise, the first half of which had been done in the pouring rain, was most definitely not the best, or even the averagest of circumstances. Ahead of him, Praetorum could see his fellows attempting the jump, many of them failing, sliding into the ditch, and then scrambling out of the way before another trainee fell on top of them.
Arms swinging, legs pumping, Praetorum reached the edge of the ditch, and then leaped, legs pistoning out with all the power he could still muster in his body. For one long, glorious moment, as he hung suspended in the air over the muddy ditch, it seemed like he was going to make it; slowing down to join Kaldwyn had given him a little bit of energy back, he'd leaped at just the right moment, right at the edge of the ditch. It was going to be a close thing, but he was going to land firmly on the other side.
Then he hit the edge of the ditch, and slid down to the bottom with a wet squelch, his claws leaving grooves in the mud as he tried in vain to climb his way up.
Praetorum crawled out the the edge of the ditch, panting heavily. He got to his feet, legs shaking and limped slowly over to the center of the field—where the ten, fifteen trainees who'd gone before him were forming up—his entire front covered in wet mud. The only consolation he had was that no one else behind him was doing any better; the trainees were, almost to a man, failing this final hurdle, each of them sliding down to the bottom and climbing out in disgrace. Except for one. Praetorum huffed in annoyance as Kaldwyn, utterly exhausted, stepped up to him, not a trace of mud on him above the boots.
The human might not have been particularly athletic, Praetorum reflected, but he was damn acrobatic. Should have gone into the scouts instead, only the boy was too stubborn to hear it. Too tired to even rib each other over their respective failures, they each took up their place in the formation, forcing themselves to stand tall despite the weariness of their limbs. Side by side, they waited as the last, muddy stragglers hauled themselves out of the ditch, and stumbled over to take their positions as well.
"Right. A passable effort from most of you." Their instructor barked out. "Most of you. The last twenty to finish, go fill in those ditches." She turned to go, then stopped. "Except for you." She pointed at Praetorum, and he stood at attention as she stalked up to him. "If you're going to fall back to accompany your friend, you can fill in the ditches with him tonight, and dig them again tomorrow too!" She bellowed in his face, towering over him. Praetorum forced his face into a blank mask as best he could, trying not to shrink back, then nodded. "If I catch you slacking off again, for any reason, you'll be digging ditches for the rest of the season! Dismissed!"
There was a track of sorts around the training field, worn into the dirt and grass by countless feet, and four ditches dug along the track at even intervals; the trainees had spent the last two breaks running between them, and practicing jumping the ditches. Almost every trainee was covered in mud to some degree or another, and as the training run came to its last lap, many of them were beginning to lag behind. Many of the ones beginning to flag were humans, but there were a fair few ithecal among them too, as well as several humans leading the pack with the best of the ithecal.
Kaldwyn Devuo, much to his obvious frustration, was not one of them. The sleek young human wasn't quite at the very back of the troop, but he hovered in that approximate area as he ran, sweat pouring down his handsome face and soaking his brown curls as he gasped and wheezed. Praetorum, in somewhat better shape, easily kept pace with him, always just a step or two ahead.
He could have moved on ahead, he knew. Prae wasn't the fittest of the trainees by a long shot, but he had been born with the physique for it, and his mother had kept both of her children in good condition, so he'd always been above average among his peers. But Kaldwyn was a stubborn bastard, and Praetorum had learned that his friend responded better to light teasing and healthy competition than encouragement, so Praetorum made sure to stay within his sight.
Why Praetorum had taken an interest in this particular person, and why he was so invested in seeing him succeed, Prae couldn't have said. All he knew was, his presence seemed to make the human push himself, and the human's aggressive attitude always set off Praetorum's own competitive streak, all of which made for an interesting friendship. Or was it a rivalry? He wasn't really certain. Either ways, Praetorum enjoyed it. The two of them pushed each other, and to be perfectly honest with himself, his interactions with Kaldwyn helped to ease the strangeness of being separated from his brother.
"Pick it up!" The instructor barked, running alongside the stragglers. "And you there!" She pointed at Praetorum accusingly. "Get back up front! I know you can do better than this."
Whoops. Caught out.
Not daring to look back at Kaldwyn, Praetorum picked up his pace obediently, slowly making his way back towards the front of the group. As they neared the end of the field, the front runners picked up their pace, gathering momentum to leap their way over the ditch, and Praetorum did the same, readying himself mentally for the worst part of this exercise.
The ditches were dug every morning by half of the trainees, to very precise specifications. Each ditch was ten feet in width, and around fifteen feet deep, growing shallower on the ends to allow those who'd fallen in to crawl out again. Even for a human, ten feet was wasn't a difficult jump to make, especially given the physical training they had been going through over the past season.
It became significantly more difficult when one was wearing full kit—plate armour, tower shield and two weapons.
Of course, it would have been a waste for them to wear real armor and weapons for training, and risk damaging it. For one thing, everything they were going to be wearing was going to have to be thoroughly washed before it was wearable again. So instead, they carried packs, with a roughly equivalent weight in them, and had training weapons at their hips.
Even so, a ten foot jump would have been, if not easy, at least achievable, even with all that extra weight, under the best of circumstances.
The end of a two hour training exercise, the first half of which had been done in the pouring rain, was most definitely not the best, or even the averagest of circumstances. Ahead of him, Praetorum could see his fellows attempting the jump, many of them failing, sliding into the ditch, and then scrambling out of the way before another trainee fell on top of them.
Arms swinging, legs pumping, Praetorum reached the edge of the ditch, and then leaped, legs pistoning out with all the power he could still muster in his body. For one long, glorious moment, as he hung suspended in the air over the muddy ditch, it seemed like he was going to make it; slowing down to join Kaldwyn had given him a little bit of energy back, he'd leaped at just the right moment, right at the edge of the ditch. It was going to be a close thing, but he was going to land firmly on the other side.
Then he hit the edge of the ditch, and slid down to the bottom with a wet squelch, his claws leaving grooves in the mud as he tried in vain to climb his way up.
Praetorum crawled out the the edge of the ditch, panting heavily. He got to his feet, legs shaking and limped slowly over to the center of the field—where the ten, fifteen trainees who'd gone before him were forming up—his entire front covered in wet mud. The only consolation he had was that no one else behind him was doing any better; the trainees were, almost to a man, failing this final hurdle, each of them sliding down to the bottom and climbing out in disgrace. Except for one. Praetorum huffed in annoyance as Kaldwyn, utterly exhausted, stepped up to him, not a trace of mud on him above the boots.
The human might not have been particularly athletic, Praetorum reflected, but he was damn acrobatic. Should have gone into the scouts instead, only the boy was too stubborn to hear it. Too tired to even rib each other over their respective failures, they each took up their place in the formation, forcing themselves to stand tall despite the weariness of their limbs. Side by side, they waited as the last, muddy stragglers hauled themselves out of the ditch, and stumbled over to take their positions as well.
"Right. A passable effort from most of you." Their instructor barked out. "Most of you. The last twenty to finish, go fill in those ditches." She turned to go, then stopped. "Except for you." She pointed at Praetorum, and he stood at attention as she stalked up to him. "If you're going to fall back to accompany your friend, you can fill in the ditches with him tonight, and dig them again tomorrow too!" She bellowed in his face, towering over him. Praetorum forced his face into a blank mask as best he could, trying not to shrink back, then nodded. "If I catch you slacking off again, for any reason, you'll be digging ditches for the rest of the season! Dismissed!"
