Somehow, all of my papa’s stories about scout training still couldn't prepare me for how much running we did on the first day. They also couldn’t wake me up on time. In my defense, scout training ends before normal school days even start. I ended up getting up with twenty minutes left to get ready and get over to the knights' classrooms.

By some miracle, I made it exactly on time, only to find everyone else already there, warming up and chatting. I glanced around to find a chair that I could collapse on. (I sprinted all the way there, pretty impressive if I do say so myself.) Unfortunately, Captain Cattaneo was already there, and she started class the second the bell rang.

“Ok, everyone, welcome!” Surprisingly, she barely raised her voice, and she still was able to shut off everyone’s conversations and get their attention on her. “First day of captain training! It seems like you all already know each other, so we can skip the introductions. Shall we start warming up?”

It seems like everyone already knows what to do, because the second she says that, everyone nods and starts doing different warmups. I tried to mimic what one of my classmates was doing, some weird running plank. Almost immediately, the person subject to my copying noticed.

“Hey, new guy. Your form’s a little off. Here, watch me,” she said, standing up and immediately getting back down on the ground. “Start with just a simple plank.” I tried to do exactly what she did, but my tired legs gave out almost immediately after. She giggled. 

“Ok, that’s fine. Just try again.” I did exactly that, but that time, I stayed upright. I glanced over at my new “personal trainer”, who was frowning. “That’s good, but try to be as straight as possible.” I adjusted a little, and she nodded, although I could tell that my adjustment wasn’t enough to make a difference.

“That’s good. Now, watch me.” She got in the same plank position as me (although objectively more correct) and brought a knee to her chest, quickly switching legs. After a few, she stopped and looked back at me. “Think you can do that?”

I did exactly what she did: right knee, left knee, one after the other. Or, at least, I made an attempt. I didn’t even make it to three before I slipped and crashed to the ground. She gave a he’s hopeless look before reaching out a hand to help me up. “You know what? That’s ok. You can just stretch for now.”

I could feel the embarrassment leaking out on my face in the form of heat. There I was, the son of Patrol leader Garcia, failing miserably at a warm-up on the first day of the scout class he didn’t technically get into. Unfortunately, my classmate immediately took notice. “Once again, it’s ok. Actually, you’re the one the admins promoted, right?” I gingerly nodded. My answer seemed to change her demeanor completely. “That means you’ve never taken an actual scout class before. It’s understandable.” Her voice was dripping with passive aggression. She doesn’t seem as friendly as before. If only Fran was there-she’d tell her to buzz off in a heartbeat.

“Alright everyone, listen up,” Captain Cattaneo said. “Today we’re going to start jogging around The Warren. We’ll be doing that the rest of the week, so we can get to everything.” She reached under her desk and pulled out a small stack of…stacks: twenty-ish clipboards, about the same amount of sheets of canvas, and a couple pencil boxes. “Take a clipboard, some canvas, and a pencil, because we’re making maps. Today you can just sketch it out, but for a full grade, make it look nice.” That didn’t seem too hard, until she added, “You’ll still be graded on endurance, of course, so don’t slack off.” I understood the job of scouts was to be able to get anywhere fast, but why did we have to focus on both parts on the first day?

“Grab all your things. Since we only have thirty minutes, we’ll dismiss from
Wherever we end up.”

Our first stop was the commons, a cozy little room one hydraulic elevator away from the Knights HQ. On the floor was green carpet and a few comfy seating options, and a fireplace was in the middle of the room against the back wall. It wasn’t lit, of course (smoke doesn’t exactly go away without good ventilation), but it still added to the calm atmosphere. Some hidden magma lights keep it warm and nice, even without a fire. Just a second after I sketched out a square on my map for the room, we were back in the hallway.

We briefly stopped by the patrol room, which was fitting for the scout class, considering which of the five knight divisions The Patrol is part of. “Someday, if any of you stick to this class and get really good at what you do, you could actually go to one of the meetings that they hold here,” the captain explains. “Or, if you’re desperate to hear what happens and don’t want to put in the work, become a janitor. The cleaning staff could always use some more helping hands.”

Our next stop was the little auditorium, the first of the three theaters and by far the quietest. The bulletin board outside of it still had promotional posters for a puppet show that happened in 142 PCW, a whole eight years ago. I guess the staff just didn’t want the board to look empty.

It was at our next stop-the orchard-that I realized my legs were exhausted. While Captain Cattaneo talked about the fancy technology that the workers used to keep the trees alive underground, I was taking gulps of air big enough to keep myself upright and small enough to avoid anyone’s attention. She made a brief mention of water, reminding me of the glass bottle in my backpack. Perfect! Unfortunately, in the time it took me to get it out, the captain finished her spiel about trees, and we were back on our jog. I didn’t even get to update my map.

We sort of stopped by the hospital ward, but our instructor made it a point to get going as soon as possible and not make any noise. “Anything could be going on in there right now. We need to be as respectful as possible.” The entire class gave silent nods in agreement, which reminded me how different the students in captain training are compared to the students I most remember from high school. Those kids were loud and annoying, compared to these new, super kind and friendly peers. I overheard some of their conversations from earlier, and none of them had anything but nice things to say. Where did those people come from? Right, the year above me. If only I had been born earlier.

The next location was the main hallway, which we stopped at a little longer than the other locations. It was large and spacious, and three tunnels at different heights merged at it. In some places, there were cracks in the walls, and a vine poked out of one of them and coiled around a clay flower pot with an allium in it. The captain walked over to it, took a deep breath, and said what she had to say. “This is the location, as some or most of you may know, that former Captain Petunia Allium Cheng… uh, died, in.” The few people who were chatting found a solemn silence. She quickly shifted her uneasy tone to one more steady and warning. “This is to say that safety is very important when it comes to this line of work. You’re going to have to go in all sorts of tunnels, and not all of them are exactly stable ones, even if you think they are.”

We passed by a few more places before reaching the elevator hub in sector two. Then, at long last, the seven-thirty bell (yikes, that class was early) rang, freeing me from my torment. “Good job, everyone! Your homework is to walk home, which I’m sure everyone already does. Tomorrow, we’ll finish our ‘tour’, and then you can spend most of the rest of the week making your maps. On Friday, we’ll talk about Sector 6. Enjoy the rest of your day!”

Luckily, I wasn’t too far away from my home, but I still needed to stop for a minute to catch my breath. My legs were killing me, and my throat felt drier than the sand in the cactus exhibit. I found an empty bench, collapsed on it, and shut my eyes. I had fallen asleep late the night before, not realizing how early I had to be up, so I had a lot of sleep to catch up on, and I was very eager to start. Unfortunately, a familiar voice interrupted me in seconds. “Are you all right?” 

I opened my eyes to see a face similar to my own, but older and with longer, beaded hair. “Hi, papa.”

He gave a concerned look, smiled, and simply said, “Let’s get you home.”

“...And that’s about all the knights talk I can handle,” Antonio sighs. “That first day was brutal. And the week didn’t really get better. But I got to see the Sol Theatrum in person, so that was cool.” 

“That’s awesome! My mom goes there sometimes, but she never lets me go with her.” I say. “Lava thinks it’s the pressure of the depths.” 

“Weird. I had an uncle who passed out in the tavern there, but they said it wasn’t related to the location.” Fran points out.

“Well, no offense, but I think your family is just weird,” I chuckle.

“Speaking of weird, Celly! Have you heard of Mr. Shadowstirrer yet? It’s this new comic about a guy who can wake the dead!” Antonio chirps.

“Oooh, that sounds really cool! I’ll have to check it out!”

“Sheesh. You two and your comics."

"Maybe if you actually read one, you'd understand..."