Warscribe Pages 1-5 (NaNoWriMo)

The rain fell on Ian Vlasek with disregard to the growing knot of desperation in his stomach as he ran through the boot sucking mud of the city streets. The office of the local regiment loomed into focus. He threw open the door. Those within turned their heads towards him, seemingly started by the gaunt older man with thinning hair standing in their doorway and dripping on the floor. Ian bellowed, “Where is my son!?” He stalked through the office paying no heed to the soldiers which began to gather at the commotion. Coming upon a row of young recruits standing before a soldier, one of them locked eyes with Ian and grimaced.

“Father,” he muttered.

“You!” Ian held up a near disintegrated piece of wet paper streaked with what looked like ink stains. “What is the meaning of this, Nicholas?”

“It’s my choice,” Nicholas fired back. “It is what I want!”

“You don’t know what you want!”

“Enough!” The voice of what looked to be the chief amongst the soldiers echoed through the halls. “Sir, perhaps we can better discuss the reasons you are here in my private office?” The fire in Ian’s blood settled and he at once felt the cold of the rains chilling him to the bone. Ian nodded.

Soon, Ian and Nicholas were sitting across the desk of the Chief Recruitment Officer. “Sir, if I am to understand correctly, your son has chosen to enlist himself in the army.”

Ian took a deep breath. “My son, though I love him so, can be a fool at times.” At this Nicholas bristled in his chair but said nothing. “He thinks this is what he wants, but it is not so.”

“That’s not true father!” Nicholas started and swiftly stopped as the officer held up a hand.

“Be that as it may, we have your son’s papers and signature. He is ours now.” The officer clasped his hands together over his desk.

Ian shook his head. “I cannot allow this to happen.”

“Do you not find honor in serving the Empire Mr. Vlasek?” The officer’s eyes narrowed. “You should be proud!”

“I know, sir. It is just-” Ian turned to look at his son. “I cannot bear to lose him.” He looked up at the officer. “Take me. Take me in his place.”

“Father!”

“If even what you ask were possible, why would we do such a thing Mr. Vlasek?”

“I—I don’t know. There must be something I can do. My son is young, he is barely a man. Let him serve the Empire in some other way.”

“Father, no!” The officer raised his hand again.

“Tell me Mr. Vlasek, what is your occupation?”

“I am a bookkeeper.”

“I see. Good with numbers and figures then?”

“That is my job. Sir.”

The officer tapped his fingers on the desk. “Perhaps there is a use we can find for you after all. Nicholas, return to your home.”

“Sir? What is the meaning of this?” Nicholas looked incredulous. Ian covered his son’s hand with this own.

“Please Nicholas.” He turned to the officer. “Can I have a word with my son, please?”

“You have two minutes.” He gestured towards the door for the father and son.

Outside, the pair stood as the rain began to die. Nicholas looked at his father with a disbelief, too surprised to be angry. They stood in silence for a moment before he asked, “Why father? This was my choice to make.”

Ian shook his head. “My son. I only hope I haven’t made a mistake for the both of us. If time passes and your head clears and you still wish to make the same decision, then so be it. But, I think I know you well enough by now.”

“How will you survive?”

“I have lived my life. There are other ways for you to serve the Empire. Make up with Natalie or find another that will make you happy. Grow old and have many children of your own.” Nicholas looked away, ashamed at his transparent motivations. Ian placed a hand on his son’s shoulder. “Go home and tell your mother and sister that I will return if I can. Our time is up.” Ian turned and walked back into the office, leaving his life behind.

Ian along with the rest of the recruits set out soon after. They traveled by wagon towards a camp on the outskirts of the city. He watched the little darkness of his home on the horizon fade out of view. The other recruits cast sidewise glances towards Ian but no one said anything. He spent the trip looking down at his hands and rubbing them together. They were rough and lined with time. Ian could not fathom that his hands could soon hold a sword when they had spent most of his life holding paper and pen, that his body, already beginning to sore from the ride, would be placed in combat.

They came to the camp late in the day. It was a large collection of tents and wooden buildings dug into the hard ground. The tents were massive, some were of equal size to the buildings back home and looked to be makeshift halls than tents. Ian reasoned that this was a semi-permanent training ground. There were already soldiers exercising in formation on the field. The caravan of wagons came to a stop and the recruits filed out. A sergeant came by to examine them and to put them in order. Ian fell in with the other recruits.

“I am Sergeant Petrov,” he began. He barely raised his voice and yet it carried down the line. “Welcome to the glory of the Alban Empire. The life you knew is gone. My advice to you now is to put it into a safe, dark place and not look at it until your service is over.” He placed his hands on his hip. “Now, you are mine.” He gestured into the camp. “You will find tent marked by three red stripes. It will be your home for the coming months. Go and get yourself situated. Supper is in fifteen minutes. Now fall out.” The line began to move. Ian started to follow the man in front of him but the Sergeant pulled him out of the line. “You, come with me.” The sergeant began to walk, forcing Ian to catch up to him. “I understand there was a bit of an incident in your recruitment.”

“Incident, sir? No incident. I am here to do my duty.”

“Hm, duty as a father, yes? No matter. All I need to know is whether you are prepared to follow orders.” Petrov swung around to face Ian. “Will you do as you are told?”

Ian stood as straight and firm as he could manage. “Yes sir, I will.”

“Good.” Petrov continued to walk. “Now, you may have gathered that you’re not here to be a soldier.”

“I was surprised I was accepted in my son’s place, yes.”

“Normally we would not have made the exchange, but your background has apparently inspired my subordinate to send you instead.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You want me because I can work with numbers?”

Sergeant Petrov led Ian to a small meeting hall. As he pulled the flap of the tent away they caught the attention of a small circle of people sitting at one of the tables in the center. There was a tall, dark-skinned man with faded soot stains on his face, a pair of studious looking older gentlemen in long coats, and a young woman with strong eyes in a soldier’s blue uniform. The sergeant led Ian to them and he saw that the group had been studying a number of papers spread out on the desk. The papers had been scrawled with large symbols that Ian didn’t recognize and notes detailing them.

“Mr. Vlasek, do you recognize any of these symbols?” Sergeant Petrov waved his hand across the papers.

Ian leaned down to examine them. “No, sir.”

“Have you heard of the Hotekin and their sorcerers?”

“Only that we are at war with them, but I don’t see how I-”

Petrov held up a hand and nodded. “The reason you are here, Mr. Vlasek, is to work with these people. I want you to help figure out the Hotekin’s magics. And, whether we can use it for ourselves.”