Rae van Daleon – The Roots of the Storm
by Lea von Löwenstein
Chapter 47: First Impressions
The tension from the introductions lingered in the air as Rae and her team made their way to the barracks. The corridors of the rebuilt Scola felt unnervingly clean, the pristine walls and polished floors a stark contrast to the weathered, battle-worn halls they had known. Every sound—every step, every murmur—echoed ominously, as if the building itself were waiting for its next challenge.
Inside their new barracks, Rae’s team found rows of neatly made bunks, each with identical footlockers at their base. A single narrow window overlooked the central courtyard, its light casting long shadows across the room.
Celestine tossed her pack onto the nearest bunk, collapsing onto it with an exaggerated groan. “Well, at least the beds don’t feel like bricks this time.”
Marcus sat heavily on the bunk beside her, running a hand through his short-cropped hair. “Don’t get too comfortable. Something tells me they’re going to make us miss those bricks by tomorrow.”
Tyren was already unpacking, carefully arranging his cogitator components on the small desk near his bed. “This place is too polished,” he said, his tone wary. “They’re trying to make a point.”
Rae stood by the window, her arms crossed as she looked out over the courtyard. “They’re reminding us this is a fresh start,” she said quietly. “But it’s also a warning. This place might look new, but the stakes haven’t changed.”
Soren sat at the edge of his bunk, fiddling with the small crossbow he’d refined during their time at the estate. “And neither have we,” he said, glancing at Rae. “We’re ready.”
The First Drill
The barracks bell rang sharply the next morning, jolting the novices awake. The team scrambled to their feet, hastily donning their uniforms and gear. By the time they reached the central yard, the other novices were already lined up in neat rows under the watchful eyes of Commissar Varn and Drill Instructor Halek.
Varn stepped forward, his hands clasped behind his back. “Good. You made it on time. That’s the only compliment you’ll get from me today,” he said coldly, his gaze sweeping the rows of recruits. “Today begins your reclamation. Whatever you thought you knew about discipline, forget it. Whatever skills you think you have, they’re irrelevant until I say otherwise.”
Halek took over, his gruff voice booming across the yard. “First up: endurance drills. You’ll run the circuit until you drop—or until I say stop.”
The yard erupted into motion as the novices began their laps around the expansive training grounds. The circuit wasn’t just a simple track; it was riddled with obstacles—mud pits, climbing walls, and heavy weights to carry.
Marcus powered through the course, his sheer strength allowing him to handle the heavier obstacles with ease. Celestine darted through the mud pits and scaled the walls with practiced agility, though her speed occasionally earned her a sharp rebuke from Halek for “getting sloppy.”
Tyren and Soren worked together, navigating the course while Tyren occasionally activated his cogitator to analyze the most efficient paths. Rae kept a steady pace, her focus unwavering as she adapted to each challenge.
By the time Halek finally called them to a halt, the novices were covered in mud and sweat, their breaths coming in ragged gasps. Halek strode through the exhausted crowd, his expression unimpressed.
“Barely passable,” he barked. “But you survived. Let’s see if you can keep it up.”
Combat Evaluations
The next task was a combat evaluation overseen by Sister Verena and Magos Omnitek. The novices were paired off and given a mix of melee and ranged weapons, their performance closely monitored.
Rae found herself sparring against a new recruit, a wiry boy with quick reflexes but no sense of strategy. He lunged at her repeatedly, his attacks wild and undisciplined. Rae deflected each strike with ease, waiting for him to overextend before countering with a precise blow that sent his weapon clattering to the ground.
“You rely on speed,” Sister Verena said, stepping closer. “But speed without purpose is chaos. Refine it.”
Celestine faced off against Erik Krenz, their duel a clash of precision and arrogance. Krenz smirked as he parried her attacks, but Celestine’s relentless strikes eventually forced him to falter. She disarmed him with a flourish, her blade resting at his throat.
“Not bad,” she said with a smirk, stepping back. “Maybe next time you’ll keep up.”
Meanwhile, Marcus was paired against a larger novice, their clash a brutal display of raw strength. The match ended in a draw, both combatants grinning through their bruises.
Tyren and Soren were assigned ranged evaluations, their task to hit moving targets while avoiding return fire from servo-skulls. Tyren used his cogitator to predict the targets’ paths, while Soren’s steady aim ensured every bolt found its mark.
Magos Omnitek watched with interest, their mechanical limbs twitching. “Acceptable. For now.”
Reflection and Resolve
That evening, the team gathered in their barracks, their bodies aching but their spirits unbroken. The day had been grueling, but it had also reminded them of why they were here—and why they fought.
“That was… something,” Celestine said, stretching out on her bunk. “Krenz looked like he wanted to kill me after that match.”
“You did put a blade to his throat,” Marcus said with a chuckle.
Tyren glanced up from his cogitator. “This place is different, but the lessons are the same: survive, adapt, overcome.”
Rae sat on the edge of her bunk, her blade resting across her knees. “And stick together,” she said. “No matter what they throw at us.”
“For Talia,” Soren said quietly, his gaze distant.
“For Talia,” the others echoed.
As the barracks bell signaled lights-out, Rae lay back on her bunk, staring at the ceiling. The new Scola was relentless, but so were they. Whatever trials awaited, they would face them together—stronger than ever, and ready to prove they deserved to stand in the Emperor’s light.
