My world-tree system

The sun had barely risen when Foster heard the deep voices and footsteps in the forest. He was lying at the entrance to the cave, watching over Lïanna and Giovanni. His muscles were stiff, his mind still scarred by the horrors of the previous night. The bite of the cold seemed more cruel that morning, or perhaps it was the weight of fatigue that amplified everything.

The imposing figure of Captain Köflik emerged from the shadows, surrounded by several knights. Their armour gleamed faintly in the emerging light, contrasting with the tired, scarred faces of Foster and Giovanni. The knights wore capes in the colours of the Order, a mixture of blue and silver, symbols of their rank.

- It's over,' said Köflik, his voice as sharp as a blade. You have survived.

Foster didn't reply, but his gaze met that of the captain. There was no pride or satisfaction in his eyes, only cold resolution.

The captain's gaze turned to the figure of Lïanna, lying in the cave, a faint smell of burning flesh still present. He waved his hands behind him and two knights rushed to carry her, disappearing from Foster's sight at an astonishing speed.

- We'll take care of her. You can rest when we get back. Follow me. he ordered.

The way back to camp was silent. The remaining recruits were few in number. Foster counted barely a dozen faces among those who had survived. The forest seemed to have devoured their comrades. Rumours were already circulating: some had been devoured, others had killed each other, and a few had simply disappeared, swallowed up by the darkness of the night.

The training camp, usually noisy and lively, had become an empty shell. The training dummies seemed absurd next to the memories of real, merciless creatures. Giovanni, sitting next to Foster, seemed still in shock.

- It's strange,' he murmured. We were training with them just a week ago... And now...

Foster didn't reply immediately. He was looking at the horizon.

- We're still alive,' he finally said. And that's all that matters.

Giovanni shrugged, clearly disagreeing. But he didn't insist. Foster had never been one to dwell on what he couldn't change.

Three days passed in a strange torpor. Foster spent his days recuperating and planning for the future. Giovanni, for his part, had isolated himself, spending time observing the other survivors or scribbling in a notebook. Lïanna, in intensive care, was nowhere to be found. Foster didn't even know if she was still alive.

On the third morning, Köflik rounded up the survivors. They were lined up in the courtyard, their uniforms used and their faces scarred by the experience. The captain took a long look at them, his gaze piercing each recruit like a limp.

- You have survived the ordeal in the forest. That makes you soldiers, but not yet knights. Survival is only part of what is expected of you. Your ability to act, to protect and to endure will decide your future.

He took a few steps, folding his hands behind his back.

- Today I'm announcing your assignments. Those who remain will join specialised units according to their skills.

Köflik stopped in front of Foster.

- You, Foster. You're joining an attack unit. Your role will be simple: to exterminate dangerous beasts before they threaten towns and villages. It's a brutal job with no respite, but I think you're cut out for it.

Foster nodded, silent, but a cold spark passed through his eyes.

He passed the other recruits and assigned each of them to a different unit, two of them with Foster.

The captain then turned to Giovanni.

- As for you, Giovanni. Your observant mind and eye for detail have not gone unnoticed. You'll be assigned to intelligence. Mapping, information gathering and analysis. It's no less dangerous, but your pen and your mind will be your weapons.

Giovanni blinked in surprise before muttering a weak 'yes, Captain'.

After the announcement, the recruits were released for the rest of the day. Giovanni joined Foster, looking thoughtful.

- An attack unit, eh?' he murmured. It suits you. But be careful, Foster. These missions... they don't leave much room for error.

- That's what I want,' Foster replied, his tone icy. Mistakes cost too much.

Giovanni sighed, but didn't insist. He knew that nothing could divert Foster from his course. The weight of their losses and the horrors they had experienced had forged an unshakeable determination in him.

Foster stood up, staring at the horizon. He knew this was only the beginning. Monsters, battles, death... it was all part of the road he had chosen. And there was no turning back.

- Now it was time to get serious.

- Well, it's time to get serious.

An instructor came to take him and the others to their respective units and Foster had to say goodbye to Giovanni.

- Take care of yourself, brother, and keep in touch. Giovanni told him.

- Take care too and don't worry, I have no intention of dying now. Foster smiled.

A little later, Foster crossed the bridge that would lead him to the headquarters of his new unit. The atmosphere here was totally different from the barracks he'd left behind. The building in front of him wasn't made of the cold, austere stone of a classic fortress, but of carefully crafted solid wood, an interweaving of beams that formed elegant arches and structures. Torches fixed to metal supports lit up the place, and a faint smell of resin wafted through the air.

This part of the garrison, although functional, had a soul. Foster could feel the life impregnated into the wood, as if these walls carried within them the stories of past battles. But he didn't have time to dwell on these details: he was about to meet his new unit.

Inside, the main hall was a sanctuary dedicated to war. Weapons hung on the walls, trophies of slain creatures hung as reminders of the dangers that awaited outside, and a huge map carved on a wooden table occupied the central room.

- Not a moment too soon

The cold, authoritative voice came from the right. A woman was standing there, her arms crossed and her sharp gaze fixed on them.

- Cassandra! You scared me!' exclaimed the instructor.

- It's not my fault you're such a wimp Gilbert

Kassandra was a warrior of imposing stature, although her figure remained feminine. Her long blonde hair framed by braided locks contrasted with her dark leather armour, reinforced with metal plates on her shoulders and forearms. Every movement she made exuded control and authority.

- You are the new ones,' she continued, her eyes piercing every fibre of their bodies. I'm Kassandra, head of this unit. Here, I decide who lives or dies. As long as you're under my command, you'll do exactly as I say. No excuses. No room for error.

Foster and the recruits nodded, their gaze firm. Kassandra approached, closing the distance between them.

- I see determination in your eyes. That's good, but it won't be enough. If you don't want to end up like the other weaklings we've buried, learn fast.

A smile crossed his face.

- Come on, let's go and meet the rest of the unit.