month. I am sure you are all feeling rather proud of your
accomplishments up to this point. Well, I am here to tell you that it would be
best-” He paused, “- if you start praying to the angels, because the tests only
get harder from here. In a few days you will all be put to the final test. Half
of you will leave for the remainder of the year. Half of you will stay, no
longer young bloods, but soldiers, clad in your shiny, new armor. While we sort
you into your roles, pray that you are part of that latter half.” He traded
spots with Brin, then walked off the stage.
“Alright, I want operators in the left stands, intel
officers in the right stands, and combat specialists in the center.”
Immediately people began shuffling throughout the entire room. This first
separation was not the final one, but it did help make the process run a little
smoother. I stood awkwardly for a moment, trying to discern where the Kings
would sit. In truth, a King or a Queen could potentially fit any role. I soon
realized I was the last one standing and quickly found a spot in the center
stands.
“Now that everyone is settled, you will be moved into the
separate meeting rooms where you will be examined by an instructor who will
help you decide which spot is best for you. Oh! And don’t worry if you don’t
find yourself where you thought you should have been. Not many people find
their specialization before sorting day.” We were up again. This time we turned
and exited the main theatre, then crossed the hall into our assigned meeting
rooms. These rooms were much like large class rooms. There were stacks of
tables and chairs that were moved to make space for the lines of young bloods
in each room. From what I had heard, the process takes several hours, so many
try to get as close to the front as possible. If you were caught cutting in
line, however, you would be forced to move to the back. Slowly the lines moved
forward. Despite the frustration, we all stood at attention, as if we were
being tested on our discipline. Many believed that we really were. After an
hour I found myself at the front of the line. An instructor sat impatiently at
his desk, writing something down for the previous individual.
“Name?”
“Uh, Jacob Cartlidge.” I stuttered,
nervously.
“Hold on,” He pressed a few keys on his computer, then lit up slightly.
“Ah, yes, the human with a King’s potential. I assume that’s
the direction you want to go?”
“Yes, sir”
“Alright, give me a second.” He had surprisingly stopped
speaking in Rovanekren and began speaking in Gaia instead.
“Let’s see here, you are a normal-built human, you use the
standard armament for your fighting style, king’s power, ummm ,
where’s the armor file…?”
“My armor isn’t finished yet, sir.”
“Ah! Well, yours has to be custom designed and built, so
that’s understandable. Well, you’re lucky. Usually I would have to go through a
lot more examinations than this.” He handed me a purple card with Rovanekren
writing on it, followed by his signature. “Present this to an instructor tomorrow
and he’ll show you the way.”
“Thank you sir.” I turned and left,
awkwardly averting my gaze as the other soldiers glared at me with envy.
Though simple, Sorting Day was often much more stressful for
those who weren’t sure where they belonged. Some warriors could fit in any
class they wished, while others worked diligently just to be worthy of a single
specialization. Some did not fit anywhere, and would be forced to remain a
simple rifleman following graduation. The second day, however, was the real
start of specialization training. We were awakened early and told to go to
different rooms, depending on our specialization. Since mine was combat
focused, I was told to go to the training room. After a few minutes of
searching, I found an instructor. He pointed me to Brin who was the instructor
for new Kings and Queens. There were only three of us: a woman named
accomplishments up to this point. Well, I am here to tell you that it would be
best-” He paused, “- if you start praying to the angels, because the tests only
get harder from here. In a few days you will all be put to the final test. Half
of you will leave for the remainder of the year. Half of you will stay, no
longer young bloods, but soldiers, clad in your shiny, new armor. While we sort
you into your roles, pray that you are part of that latter half.” He traded
spots with Brin, then walked off the stage.
“Alright, I want operators in the left stands, intel
officers in the right stands, and combat specialists in the center.”
Immediately people began shuffling throughout the entire room. This first
separation was not the final one, but it did help make the process run a little
smoother. I stood awkwardly for a moment, trying to discern where the Kings
would sit. In truth, a King or a Queen could potentially fit any role. I soon
realized I was the last one standing and quickly found a spot in the center
stands.
“Now that everyone is settled, you will be moved into the
separate meeting rooms where you will be examined by an instructor who will
help you decide which spot is best for you. Oh! And don’t worry if you don’t
find yourself where you thought you should have been. Not many people find
their specialization before sorting day.” We were up again. This time we turned
and exited the main theatre, then crossed the hall into our assigned meeting
rooms. These rooms were much like large class rooms. There were stacks of
tables and chairs that were moved to make space for the lines of young bloods
in each room. From what I had heard, the process takes several hours, so many
try to get as close to the front as possible. If you were caught cutting in
line, however, you would be forced to move to the back. Slowly the lines moved
forward. Despite the frustration, we all stood at attention, as if we were
being tested on our discipline. Many believed that we really were. After an
hour I found myself at the front of the line. An instructor sat impatiently at
his desk, writing something down for the previous individual.
“Name?”
“Uh, Jacob Cartlidge.” I stuttered,
nervously.
“Hold on,” He pressed a few keys on his computer, then lit up slightly.
“Ah, yes, the human with a King’s potential. I assume that’s
the direction you want to go?”
“Yes, sir”
“Alright, give me a second.” He had surprisingly stopped
speaking in Rovanekren and began speaking in Gaia instead.
“Let’s see here, you are a normal-built human, you use the
standard armament for your fighting style, king’s power, ummm ,
where’s the armor file…?”
“My armor isn’t finished yet, sir.”
“Ah! Well, yours has to be custom designed and built, so
that’s understandable. Well, you’re lucky. Usually I would have to go through a
lot more examinations than this.” He handed me a purple card with Rovanekren
writing on it, followed by his signature. “Present this to an instructor tomorrow
and he’ll show you the way.”
“Thank you sir.” I turned and left,
awkwardly averting my gaze as the other soldiers glared at me with envy.
Though simple, Sorting Day was often much more stressful for
those who weren’t sure where they belonged. Some warriors could fit in any
class they wished, while others worked diligently just to be worthy of a single
specialization. Some did not fit anywhere, and would be forced to remain a
simple rifleman following graduation. The second day, however, was the real
start of specialization training. We were awakened early and told to go to
different rooms, depending on our specialization. Since mine was combat
focused, I was told to go to the training room. After a few minutes of
searching, I found an instructor. He pointed me to Brin who was the instructor
for new Kings and Queens. There were only three of us: a woman named
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