The barracks at Silverveil was made up of a large series of rooms, each for lodging four for fighters. The space was built to accommodate many warriors comfortably, allowing them sufficient rest to maintain their strength. After the battle, Philus ensured a lack of discrimination. There was no discrimination in the placement of rogues as well as soldiers. Each spot had diversity, letting them coexist as one, irrespective of how they felt.
Among several people sleeping in their beds, Darkota rested on his back, one arm then slung over his face as he tried to ease that soreness inside his muscles. The battle of yesterday still weighed on him much. He was hardly in the habit of resting in such a place.
Plenty of rogues slept where they could, on the ground, in trees, beneath the sky. Here, the confining walls fully pressed inward on him, quite unfamiliar as well as incredibly stifling. Another rogue, Pierre, slept softly as he was stretched on his belly. Odin as well as Will, the two Silverveil warriors, were also fast asleep, though Odin's hand still stayed near the dagger at his waist, even while resting.
Then, it came. An absolute, bone-shaking howl split through stillness in the night, reverberating into barracks for a true call to war. Darkota sat straight up, his heart racing as his instincts took over. He glanced instantly to Pierre, who was already rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
"What's going on?" Darkota demanded, his breath still hopping from the rude awakening.
Pierre shook his head. "I don't know."
"It's training time," Odin said softly, stretching his arms back behind his head, appearing unimpressed.
"Happens every morning."
Before either could speak further, the door swung wide. Zurix lingered at the entryway, pounded the doorway frame with his knuckles.
"Alright, soldiers. Move it." His tone was crisp, leaving no room for argument. And with that he walked down the hall banging on other men's doors and waking them up. The two moved deftly and briskly to prepare for training, adept in their motions as they rose from the table even as Will's own lower body growled in protest.
And so the four of them stepped into the cold morning air. Soldiers had already begun to congregate in the training grounds. The moon loomed low in the sky, casting everything in pale silver light.
The scene was focused on the center of the training grounds, where a large, midnight-black wolf stood at the center, his sharp obelisks of eyes more golden than the morning sun roamed over the gathered warriors. Then the wolf changed right in front of their eyes; the creature twisted and turned until it was no longer a wolf.
It was Philus. His expression was unreadable as he surveyed the crowd. When he spoke, his voice carried authority and command.
"I welcome you all to our training," he began.
"Whether it is your first time here or just another usual day, I urge you to take this very seriously. The Alpha has been gracious enough to host a tournament in your favor."
At the mention of a tournament, the murmurs among the gathered soldiers grew. Even the rogues who had been reluctant to participate now paid closer attention.
"There shall be a series of fights and several matches," Philus continued.
"And, of course, a grand feast to celebrate. But before any of that, you must prove yourselves worthy. Now, let us begin"
The first exercise was simple: jogging around the training grounds. For the seasoned Silverveil warriors, this was nothing more than routine. The rogues, however, were less accustomed to structured training. Still, they fell in line, running alongside their Silverveil counterparts. Darkota ran easily, his breathing controlled. Pierre, on the other hand, was already muttering curses under his breath as they completed lap after lap.
Once the jog was complete, the group was led to the armory. The Silverveil warriors immediately stepped forward, picking their preferred weapons, swords, spears, daggers, axes.
Philus turned to the rogues, motioning for them to do the same. "Go on, pick your weapons."
They hesitated at first, unused to the privilege of choice. One by one, they stepped forward, selecting their arms. Darkota was the last to move. Philus watched him, waiting.
"Well?" the commander said. "Are you going to pick something or what?"
Darkota stepped forward, his hand hovering over the weapons. After a moment's consideration, he picked a pair of swords.
Philus nodded in approval. "Good. Now, begin."
Training commenced, weapons clashing in a whirlwind of steel. Silverveil soldiers paired up with rogues, sparring under the watchful eyes of Philus and Zurix.
Darkota found himself paired against Odin. The Silverveil warrior was quick, his strikes precise and calculated. Darkota, however, was no stranger to combat. He dodged, countered, and adapted, though he could tell Odin had more endurance than he did.
Pierre, on the other hand, struggled. He was paired with Will, who, despite his usual friendly nature, showed no mercy when it came to training. Hours passed, and by the end of it, the rogues were utterly exhausted. Many of them rested on their knees, their limbs trembling from the exertion.
The Silverveil warriors, however, stood tall, accustomed to the brutal training. Philus watched them with an unreadable expression before speaking. "Alright, soldiers," he said. "Rest for a moment."
A collective sigh of relief spread among the rogues. Pierre nearly collapsed onto his back, catching his breath. But Philus spoke again. "And then we charge into the woods."
Pierre lifted his head, his face twisted in disbelief. He turned to Odin, whispering,
"The woods? I thought we were finished. What are we doing in the woods?"
Odin smirked, his expression amused.
"That was just a warm-up," he said. "The real challenge is in the woods."
Pierre groaned, his exhaustion doubling at the thought.
Will clapped him on the back, grinning.
"Brace yourself," he said. "This is going to be a long run."
As the group prepared to move, the first hints of dawn crept over the horizon. As the group prepared to move, the first hints of dawn crept over the horizon. The rogues had survived the first training.
But the real test had only just begun.