On my first night here in the camp, I had the same dream.
I was running. My hand gripped tightly with another small, trembling hand. A girl. Her face was blurred, lost to the shadows of my mind. The moment I saw her, a strange chill crept over me. It wasn't just in her eyes, it was in the way her breath trembled, and the way her fingers gripped the necklace around her neck. The same necklace I was wearing. Her voice wavered as she called my name in a faint, desperate voice, like a whisper lost in the wind.
"Roy, wake up!"
Someone shook my shoulder forcefully, pulling me back to reality. I blinked against the dim morning light, my mind still caught between dream and waking.
"We can't be late. It's our first day here," Andrew said.
My brother Andrew was tall, and his broad shoulders gave him a strong, dependable presence. His dark hair was always a little messy, no matter how much he tried to fix it. His sharp eyes held the same determination I had seen since we were kids - he was always focused and always ready. A scar ran along his jawline, a reminder of the battles we had fought, but to me it was just another part of him. He was already in his uniform, and he was full of energy as usual.
We were inside our room that we had just moved into, then I glanced out the window. The sun had not yet risen. It's still early, I could tell the program was still a while away.
"Why are you in such a rush as always?" I muttered, rubbing my temple. "We're in the camp already, we have time."
Andrew sighed. "Did you forget? The royal advisor wants to meet us."
I stared at him for a second, then exhaled. "Oh right. I completely forgot."
"Come on man stand up, we can't keep him waiting."
With no choice, I got up, dressed quickly, and followed Andrew out into the cold morning air. The camp was already stirring soldiers sharpening weapons, training in small groups and preparing for whatever orders would come next.
Yesterday, we moved to this camp—a vast, disciplined stronghold surrounded by towering walls and rows of tents, after we were selected to be among the elite, this camp was created specifically for this, and many of those who were selected to be a part of this program had already arrived, along with new recruits who were brought in for training.
We made our way to the stables, there was a guide waiting to accompany us and allowing us to leave the camp at this hour because as once you entered, leaving again was strictly prohibited. We got on our horses, and I patted my horse Karayel on the head, he was a strong, reliable horse with a soft black coat and a calm demeanor, who had experienced countless battles with me.
The ride wasn't long, but the air was cool and refreshing as we trotted through the open field. When we arrived at the meeting site, I immediately recognized the man waiting for us.
The Minister Scott Orozco.
He stood in the center, surrounded by two towering soldiers, their hands gripping the weapons. His presence alone commanded respect and caution. His body is thin, his black hair is long, and his height is also tall. He had dark circles in his brown eyes, I could tell he didn't sleep much.
As we approached, he spoke. "Roy and Andrew Celgius." His words was measured. "It's good to finally meet you. I've heard so much about your accomplishments." His gaze swept over us, calculating. "You've impressed many, especially with the battle of Eldorath's Pass, and the incident of Valkar, your names rose a lot after this."
His words carried weight, but I knew it was best not to trust him. Andrew knew it too. Men like him do not hand out praise for free but are always a tool and a means for something greater.
Still, this was an opportunity. One we couldn't afford to waste.
I was a man of few words; my brother used to speak for me, Andrew stepped forward with practiced confidence. "It's an honor to meet you, Minister. We've heard a lot about your leadership and let me tell you that every success we've achieved, is thanks to your guidance."
A hint of amusement flickered in the Minister's eyes. "Such humility," he mused. "Just as I expected from my finest recruits."
Then his expression sharpened. "I will get straight to the point. In this camp, we form here, specialized military units—small teams of four to seven individuals, selected through, how can I say it, a rigorous evaluation of strength and intelligence. Normally, soldiers must prove themselves before earning the right to lead such a team. We will divide them according to each person's skills and through this system, whoever does not prove that he deserves to be in the elite teams, he will be eliminated."
He took a step forward, looking at me.
"But you two… are different. Exceptional."
A pause. Then, a carefully placed offer.
"Because of your performance in the last war, the king granting you both the rare privilege of forming your own team. You may choose your members freely. He believes that you will choose a team that will be special and unique."
Andrew glanced at me, his excitement barely hidden. This was no small opportunity. The power to build our own team meant control over who we trusted, who we fought alongside, and how we moved forward in these wars.
"We are honored," Andrew said, keeping his tone steady. "We accept this responsibility and will ensure our choices meet your expectations."
The Minister gave a slow nod. "Good."
Then, his gaze meets me again. "But remember, if it were up to me, I would never have agreed to such a decision. Choose wisely, for there is no room for failure."
I caught his gaze, and my grip instinctively tightened. There was a rush of frustration, but I swallowed it. His words weren't just a warning, they were a reminder of how little control we really had.
Nothing was ever truly given. Everything came with a cost.