A hush fell over the Brigade as Derrick passed through the orderly lines of soldiers… followed closely by the shock of long, dusky-pink hair that announced Ennanis’ figure. Though the Brigade did not dare to break out into murmurs, stares lingered on her the whole way through. They both continued to walk up to the front of the hall, where they faced them.

Clearing his throat, Derrick Truwing addressed them.

“52nd Brigade. As you may have heard, Commander Ennanis Zoleil will be working together with us.”

Instantly, the air in the hall tensed.

“I once served under Zoleil’s command. She is an angel of exceptional skill, and has my deepest respect, both as a comrade and as a leader. I hope that you all will be able to extend her the same.”

Even with all the praise that Commander Truwing lauded upon her, scepticism hung thick in the air. Several exchanged looks. As for Ennanis, she was standing still, eyes vacantly fixed upon a pillar in the back of the hall. One could not tell what she was thinking, behind that stoic face. When Derrick glanced at her, she added nothing to the testimony. She hardly looked convinced of Derrick’s words herself.

So, awkwardly, Derrick went on, “Commander Zoleil is on a top-secret, but very important mission, sent by Emperor Prometheus himself. For that task, she will need a squad of soldiers. If there are any among you interested in this opportunity, please raise your hand.”

Dead silence.

Derrick cleared his throat again. “I remind you that Commander Zoleil is an incredibly competent soldier, and that you will be in good hands. This mission is essential to the safety and future of not just Mount Casca, but that of the entire world.”

A thousand pairs of eyes stared at the two commanders, but no hands moved. The silence continued. Outside, the wind hammered against the barge’s sails.

“Still no signups? Very well then,” Derrick went on smoothly, sounding disappointed, like he had expected a different outcome. “Commander Zoleil shall appoint some.” He gave Ennanis a pointed glance. “Commander?”

Ennanis exhaled, and gazed out over the ocean of soldiers. She had once commanded the 52nd Brigade, sure—but she had been away from it for a long time. The new faces were completely unfamiliar to her; the old faces seemed to pointedly avoid her gaze.

“...I do not wish to appoint anyone,” Ennanis said. “I want only willing soldiers.”

Just then, someone raised his hand.

“Excellent, so we do have one after all,” Derrick’s face lit up. “What’s your name and position, soldier?”

“Sergeant Liu speaking,” the sergeant said. After a pause, he clarified, “I’m not signing up, Commander. Merely wished to state my opinion.”

“...Oh,” Derrick said, in a more disappointed tone, but he pressed on nevertheless. “What is it, Sergeant?”

“Permit me to speak my mind, and what I believe is on all of my Brigade’s minds,” coughed the sergeant, and Derrick waved for him to continue. “She—I mean, the Graveyard Commander. You speak highly of her, but I think we all have heard of the recent Battle of Fifth Peak, where Commander Zoleil recklessly got a third of her division killed. I’m afraid that your confidence in her seems… misplaced. Putting our wrists on the line for Mount Casca is honourable, yes, but we would rather not do it under her.”

Word had spread fast; everyone knew what the sergeant was talking about. As assent rolled through the crowd, Derrick’s face darkened.

“A bold assertion to make, seeing as you were not on the battlefield yourself, Sergeant,” Derrick said, eyes lingering upon Liu’s gold belt. “I firmly believe that the decisions that Commander Zoleil made were measured, and she simply did what had to be done in the given situation. However, I see now that that is not something you yourselves are willing to do.”

The soldiers continued to look doubtful. However, Derrick’s words seemed to have touched something in the Knights, for their expressions wavered.

Another hand went up.

“Name and position, soldier.”

“Tim, cadet,” said the soldier. “Uh, I’m not a volunteer either. I just had a question.”

Derrick’s eyebrows twitched. “Speak.”

“How much are we getting paid?”

The brazenness of the cadet’s question earned him several looks. However, the looks were half-hearted at best. It was obvious that that was what everyone wanted to know, but was too polite to ask.

Derrick eyed Ennanis. Mutely, Ennanis shook her head.

“...You will not be paid. This is a volunteer position. Once again, however, I emphasise how crucial this mission is for the safety of the world, for everything that we know.”

Unconvinced murmurs rolled through the crowd. A mission running the risk of death, under the Graveyard Commander Ennanis Zoleil; and they would not even be paid for it. No one in their right mind would volunteer for such a mission. No matter how vital this mission supposedly was, the world could always be saved by someone else.

But then, someone put their hand up. She mumbled something.

“Louder, please,” Derrick sounded hopeful once again.

The soldier fidgeted, screwing herself up, then raised her voice, high-pitched: “Lieutenant Lys Perennia, sir! I volunteer to join Commander Zoleil’s taskforce!”

The boy standing beside her looked horrified. Ennanis remembered him as Agnar, the platinum-haired cadet from before. If it were not for rules against battery, Agnar looked like he might have pounced on her and tried to pull her arm down. Lys ignored his valiant hissing, and her hand remained high in the air.

“Very well, Lieutenant Perennia. Come up to the front, please. Anyone else?”

There was a lengthy silence. No one else followed suit.

Lys fidgeted. She said quietly to Derrick, “May I add something?”

Derrick looked at her, and shrugged. So the little lieutenant took the microphone. As loud as she could, she spoke to the crowd.

“You guys remember that, greybelt or not, Miss Zoleil is still a registered Commander, right?” she half-shouted. “And she was sent by the Emperor? You’d be in Commander Truwing’s good graces, too. It’s almost like you don’t want to be promoted??!?”

Here was a set of sentences even more brazen than the last. However, this was what got attention. After looking between themselves, five or six more hands went up, followed by a few dozen more. And, to Ennanis’ surprise…

“Agnar of the Perennia clan,” said a certain boy. “Cadet.”

…So did Agnar’s. With the recruitment of more angels into the taskforce, the deeply-etched crease between Derrick’s brows visibly relaxed. He practically sighed with relief as he concluded:

“I’m glad that you are courageous enough to make this choice. Commander Zoleil will brief you on the mission’s specifics in a moment. The rest of you may take your leave.”

Dutifully, the soldiers filed out of the hall, bursting into gossip the moment they left. Now, in the middle of the empty hall, Ennanis’ new taskforce stood in front of her and Derrick, blinking. A couple dozen soldiers, enough for a small platoon. Of them, Ennanis noted that there were many who donned grey belts.

Most greybelts worked in both the Graveyard and their daytime division. Unlike Ennanis, they were only scheduled to work in the Graveyard on select shifts, meaning that they were still often seen out and about in daylight. However, their grey-coloured belts allowed them to be identified easily in their Brigades, and earned them the equivalent level of treatment and respect—which was to say, none.

But there were many goldbelts among them, too. Lys Perennia and her disgruntled comrade Agnar, of course, but also a handful of others. Her friend, Sabira Beneste, had flown from the other Brigade, smiling at her. The rest looked tense, but they also had a determined look on their faces. They had heeded their commander’s message, and come forth to serve their kingdom, and the world by extension… no matter what reason they were here for.

Derrick Truwing lifted a wing, giving Ennanis a farewell pat on the back. “Well, I’ll leave the rest to you, then.”

Numbly, Ennanis looked back to her new squadron, their expectant faces.

…And she sighed.

~~~