The rogues who had previously been Silverveil's adversaries, followed Philus throughout the palace grounds' stone walks. The rain had finally stopped, and as they headed for the barracks, the air was thick and clean. Though the weight of mistrust was felt in every stride they took and every look from the Silverveil guards, here was their chance at redemption.
The men were led onward by Philus, who paused at a big wooden structure adorned with silver sconces,
"These are the royal barracks" he proclaimed, his voice resonating over the courtyard,
"These are our quarters, and now, your quarters too"
"Make yourself comfortable, tidy up, and get ready for dinner" He paused, assessing each one's intentions by looking them in the eye.
"We'll be having dinner in the mess hall soon, until then, welcome to Silverveil"
The rogues shuffled uneasily, looking at one another, then nodding silently and lining up inside. A pleasant diversion from the brutality of Nyrax's camps, the barracks were simple yet tidy.
Once they had found their designated bunks, each man alternated between the tubs, exfoliating the mud and traces of their previous existence. The hot water was a luxury they had not anticipated, they were able to scrub away the dirt of grief and betrayal that had stuck to them ever since they had left their realm and feel human again for a little period.
Then new clothing was handed out, uniforms with an emblem of Silverveil, a symbol they had hated in the past. A fire was lit at the far end of the barracks yard, and the rogues threw their old Nyrax clothes into it one by one.
As they watched their pasts burn to ashes, they realized the meaning, they had to sacrifice their previous allegiances and alliances in order to join Silverveil. After getting dressed, the men made their way to the mess hall to eat their first meal as Silverveil soldiers, dishes in hand.
Warm bread, roasted meats, and the distinct aroma of robust chicken soup filled the hall, along with the typical bustle of troops eating and joking. While some of the Silverveil men glanced at the newcomers, the majority chose to ignore them and concentrate on their own food.
Philus's second in command, Zurix, stood at the far end of the hall, keeping a close watch on the space. He had been placed in command while Philus had left to answer to Alpha Lucian, and he was well aware of the brewing hostility that would unavoidably surface when new members joined the group, particularly those who had previously been adversaries.
In the meantime, Philus headed to the royal room, where Luna Jamayah and Alpha Lucian were waiting for him. With reverent gaze, he bowed deeply as he entered,
"Your Grace" he began,
"The rogues have settled in at the barracks, they're adjusting to their new surroundings"
Lucian nodded, a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes,
"Good" he said,
"Their training begins tomorrow. I want them tested, conditioned, and worthy of Silverveil"
Jamayah, who was sitting next to her husband, spoke up,
"What if, following a week of training, we have a tournament? An occasion between the rogues and the men of Silverveil. Let it be a demonstration of solidarity as well as strength"
Alpha Lucian nodded seriously as he pondered about what she had said,
"What a great idea. See it done, Philus" he said in a strong, booming voice,
"Get our troops ready for the competition, no differences, let all men realize that they are equal in our kingdom, whether they are rogues or not"
Philus bowed once more, his face displaying a mix of conviction and pride,
"It will be as you command, Your Grace"
The Silverveil soldiers were slowly coming around to the concept of having the erstwhile rogues in the mess hall. For their part, the rogues were wary, conscious of the fine line they had to walk between respect and contempt.
There was one rogue in particular who sat calmly and didn't do anything but take the chicken soup into his mouth. He was concentrating just on his food with his back to the rest of the hall when a shadow appeared behind him. A tall, broad-shouldered soldier spoke from behind, his voice harsh and rough,
"Get up. That's my seat" the soldier demanded.
The rogue got up fast, gripped his plate, and muttered a hushed apology before moving aside. He started to back away, but the soldier stopped him by placing a hard hand on his shoulder,
"Hold on there" he sneered, pointing to a smattering of crumbs and spilled soup on the table,
"Tidy that up"
The rogue's brow furrowed as he looked down at the table,
"I didn't make this mess" he whispered, but the soldier only smirked and folded his arms.
"Did I ask whose mess it was?" the soldier replied.
"Clean it… and with your shirt"
The hall became silent as everyone turned to see the exchange, and the rogue's cheeks tuned red with embarrassment.
The soldier's smirk expanded as he paused, his hand quivering a little,
"I said, clean it"
The bully soldier was about to shove or strike him when another rogue got up from his seat, grabbed his arm, and pushed him back,
"Enough" the second rogue said firmly.
The soldier stumbled and immediately got back on his feet. As he mopped up the soup that had spilled across his clothes, his face contorted in anger. A strong voice sliced through the tension like a dagger as he wanted to charge,
"That's enough" Philus called out from the doorway, having returned just in time to witness the exchange,
"What is this madness?"
The men grew silent and stood still as Philus walked down the hall, staring at the soldier with a stern, unwavering glare.
"A soldier of Silverveil, bickering over chairs and crumbs, shame on you" he said and turned to everyone else,
"You're all soldiers, bound by duty and sword to serve Silverveil, all of you"
With a fresh sense of anxiety, the men nodded and scattered to their seats.
"And you" Philus said, gesturing to the rogue who had spoken up for his friend. The rogue stopped and bowed his head,
"What is your name?" Philus asked, folding his arms.
The rogue met Philus's gaze, steady and unflinching,
"Darkota, sir."