Oswald stormed in, His booming voice echoing in the small space. “Wake up, lads! Get your rations now or go hungry today!” A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, though it barely softened his stern expression.

Behind him, two older boys strained as they pushed a wooden cart into the room. Their clothes were streaked with flour and smudges of what looked like dried fruit preserves, giving them an almost comical appearance if not for their exhausted faces. The cart itself was piled high with an assortment of foods that gleamed in the dim light streaming through narrow windows: golden-brown cakes dusted with sugar crystals, flaky pastries oozing jam, and glossy sweet rolls drizzled with honey. The sight made several boys salivate audibly.

“Take as much as you need, lads!” Oswald barked, stepping aside to let the crowd surge forward. Like wolves descending on prey, the boys rushed at the cart in a chaotic flurry of limbs and shouts. Hands grabbed greedily at anything within reach—some snatching armfuls of cakes while others stuffed their tunics with bread.

Louis started to move toward the fray but stopped short when Gai’s hand shot out and clasped his elbow firmly. “Wait till last,” Gai said quietly but with enough authority to make Louis halt mid-step.

Louis blinked up at him in confusion. “Why? Everyone else is—”

“Just trust me,” Gai interrupted gently but firmly. His grip loosened slightly as Louis hesitated but ultimately stayed put.

Nearby, two boys also lingered at the edge of the chaos, watching silently as the others ransacked the cart. One was taller with dark curls framing a sharp-featured face; his arms were crossed over his chest as he observed with an unreadable expression. The other boy—shorter but stockier—stood beside him with an air of quiet confidence that belied his unassuming appearance.

Finally, when most of the food had been claimed and scattered across beds or tucked away into pockets, Gai led Louis toward what remained on the cart: baskets filled with sun-dried fruits and nuts, loaves of freshly baked bread wrapped neatly in cloth, and wedges of firm cheese.

“Here,” Gai said as he handed Louis a small basket laden with fruits and nuts. “Take these.” He grabbed bread and cheese for himself before stepping back to let the other two boys approach.

The taller boy glanced at Gai with a faint nod of acknowledgment before selecting similar items for himself and his companion. As they turned away from the cart, Oswald’s smirk finally gave way to what might have been approval—or perhaps simply amusement—as he took note of their restraint.

“Okay, lads!” Oswald called out abruptly, silencing any lingering murmurs among the group. “Slightly new orders: apart from trips to the latrine, you are not permitted to leave this dormitory at all.” He didn’t wait for questions or protests; instead, he spun on his heel and marched out as swiftly as he’d arrived, leaving behind an air thick with tension.

Louis plopped onto Gai’s bunk beside him and stared at the basket in his lap. “Gai,” he began hesitantly after a moment of silence, “why couldn’t I take any of the sweets? I can’t even remember when I last had one.”

Gai leaned back slightly against the wall behind him and regarded Louis thoughtfully before answering. “Do you know what was missing from that cart?” he asked in return.

Louis furrowed his brow and shook his head slowly.

“Water,” Gai said simply but pointedly. He gestured toward their shared jug on a nearby table—the only source they’d been given since arriving. “Those breads and cakes are loaded with stuff that’ll make you thirsty—and hungry—faster than you realize.”

Louis frowned in realization but still looked skeptical. “So... what? You think this is some kind of test?”

“I’d bet on it,” Gai replied without hesitation.

“That would be about right,” came an unexpected voice from nearby. Both boys turned to see the taller boy from earlier approaching alongside his counterpart.

“My brother told me about this place before I came here,” he continued matter-of-factly as he stopped beside them. “He said everything is a test—right from day one.”

The shorter boy elbowed him lightly in mock reprimand. “Sorren! You can’t just barge into people’s conversations like that without introducing yourself first.”

Sorren rolled his eyes but relented with a small smile. “Fine... I’m Sorren,” he said before gesturing toward his companion. “And this is Mack—we’re cousins from Whitwatch.”

“I’m Louis,” the boy offered quickly, his voice light but tinged with a certain nervous energy. He motioned toward his companion with a small nod. “And this is Gai—we’re both from Cemirini.”

Gai sat on his cot, gave a brief wave, and said, "Yeah, it’s been... a trip getting here," with a faint note of humor. He stretched one leg out casually, looking relaxed and comfortable in the moment.

"So, Cemirini," one boy chimed in—a lanky teen named Sorren, whose unruly hair seemed perpetually on the verge of covering his eyes. "That’s... what? South, In the forest near the grasslands? Bet you had it easy growing up there. Spent your days climbing trees or hunting or whatever."

Louis raised an eyebrow, leaning slightly against the bedpost behind him. "Easy? Not exactly," he replied with a chuckle that didn’t quite reach his eyes. "Sure, we’ve got the forest, but you try hauling wood before dawn every day. Gai and I can probably tell you more about trees and critters than you’d ever want to know."

Gai smirked faintly but said nothing, letting Louis handle the banter. Sorren grinned back and shrugged. "Sounds better than where I’m from—nothing but salty winds, fish guts, and rocks." He wrinkled his nose dramatically, earning a ripple of laughter from the group.

As they spoke, more boys trickled into the dormitory in pairs and small groups, most escorted by Oswald—a stern-faced man whose sharp eyes missed nothing. Each time he entered, Oswald’s gaze swept over the room like a hawk surveying its prey. He lingered for moments too long on certain boys, as if mentally cataloguing their behaviour: who was chatting in clusters, who sat alone staring at the floor, who looked too pale or too weak to stand for long.

The dormitory had grown stifling over the the hours and among those already present, it became increasingly clear that dehydration was taking its toll. Water had been scarce, with even the skin Gai had brought with him near empty. The signs were subtle at first—a few dry lips here, a sluggish movement there—but soon undeniable. Faces flushed redder than they should have been; hands trembled as they gripped onto bedframes for stability.

“Hey Mack,” Sorren suddenly whispered loudly enough to draw attention. He jabbed an elbow at his cousin was lounging nearby. “Look at that one.” He pointed toward the far side of the room where a frail-looking boy had just stood up on shaky legs. The boy swayed precariously, as though caught in an invisible gust of wind.

Before anyone could react, he collapsed forward like a felled tree. The dull thud of his body hitting the hard wooden floor made several boys flinch. A sickening crack followed as his face struck the ground—then silence.

For a moment, no one moved.

Then came the laughter—sharp and cruel—from Sorren and Mack. It echoed through the room like nails scraping against stone until Gai shot to his feet, his expression hardening into something fierce and unyielding.

“Enough!” he barked, his voice cutting through their amusement like a blade. He strode toward the fallen boy with purpose, ignoring Sorren’s startled look and Mack’s muttered protest of “We were just joking.”

“Get back,” Gai commanded firmly when a few curious onlookers began to gather around the scene. There was no hesitation in his tone; it brooked no argument. The nearest boys shuffled backward awkwardly as Gai knelt beside the semi-conscious figure.

Louis appeared not far behind him while Sorren hovered uncertainly nearby, clearly unsure whether to help or stay out of Gai’s way. “What’s wrong with him?” Sorren asked hesitantly after a pause.

“He fainted,” Gai replied briskly without looking up. He gently rolled the boy onto his side and inspected his face with quick but careful hands. Blood trickled steadily from the boy’s nose—a vivid red against his pale skin—and pooled onto the floor beneath him.

“Broken nose,” Gai muttered grimly before glancing over his shoulder at Sorren. “Help me sit him up.”

Sorren hesitated for half a second before stepping forward and crouching down beside him. Together they lifted the boy into a seated position despite his groggy attempts to resist.

The injured boy groaned softly as consciousness returned in fragments; confusion clouded his eyes when they fluttered open. “Wh...what happened?” he mumbled thickly.

“You passed out,” Gai explained simply but not unkindly. He pressed a folded rag—provided by Mack—to the boy’s bleeding nose and guided his hand to hold it in place. “Keep pressure here,” he instructed firmly. “And don’t tilt your head back—you’ll just make yourself sick.”

The boy nodded weakly and muttered something that sounded like “Thanks.” His voice was hoarse and barely audible.

By now, Louis had returned to their corner while Mack lingered awkwardly near Sorren, neither of them daring to meet Gai’s gaze as he stood up again. The tension between them hung heavy in the air until Gai finally broke it with a curt nod toward their bunks.

“Go sit down,” he said flatly before turning away without another word.

---

As dusk crept in and shadows lengthened across the room’s rough wooden walls, Oswald reappeared—this time pushing a food cart laden with far humbler fare than that morning’s feast: a large cask of water that sloshed audibly with every step; a steaming pot of bone-and-vegetable soup whose thin aroma barely reached past its surface; baskets of coarse bread that looked one step away from stale.

The boys lined up silently to receive their portions under Oswald’s watchful eye—none daring to speak except for hurried expressions of gratitude when handed their share. When it came time for the injured boy to approach, Oswald studied him briefly before gripping his arm and leading him out of the room without explanation.

“They’re probably taking him to some kind of infirmary,” Louis speculated aloud as he tore into a piece of bread back at their bunks.

“Let’s hope so,” Gai replied quietly, though there was doubt etched into every word he spoke.

The rest of the evening passed in subdued silence; even Sorren seemed chastened by what had happened earlier. As night fell fully outside their narrow windows, each boy climbed into bed with their own thoughts swirling restlessly about what challenges tomorrow might bring yet too exhausted to dwell on them for long.