Roughly closing the folder and handing it back to his neighbor, he scoffed.
"Of course they have nothing in that thing."
The man next to him chuckled, jabbing him lightly in the ribs.
"So, what kind of mage are you? We knew you would get an ability, but to go through a trial as well? You might be worth keeping alive after all."
Charon laughed dryly.
"My element is Death. What about the rest of you?"
Jameson opened his mouth to speak but Reeves cut him off.
"The only ones that matter are the four that have more than one ability. That's Jameson, who was blessed by Life. That guy is our medic."
He then pointed to the man beside Charon.
"That moron is Morris. He is our designated explosives expert and is blessed by the God of Fire. He can make things explode in more ways than one, so make sure to stay clear of him during a fight."
He jabbed his thumb towards the dark-skinned man.
"The jokester, Quentin, has the element of Sound. Despite that loud mouth of his, he is our best scout and spy. He can make his footsteps silent, and share that gift with a few men around him. He can also make other people louder, which can both make you shit yourself and hear something you weren't meant to."
Reeves then leisurely leaned back, the action awkward in the cramped interior.
"And lastly, myself. I was lucky enough to be blessed by the God of Weather, with my aspect being lightning. In a direct fight, I'm our damage dealer."
Charon looked at everyone he had mentioned, trying to remember their names.
'So I know Reeves, the asshole who tried to hit me. Jameson was the healer. Morris is the guy sitting next to me who elbowed me, and Question is the one who keeps laughing like a maniac.'
He went over their names a few more times, hoping to memorize them, before his eyes widened in realization.
"Wait, are you guys my unit?"
Quentin chortled, covering his mouth with one hand.
"Nice one, Einstein! Maybe next you'll discover the sky is blue, or that the sun is a star!"
Charon leaned forward, grabbing his head with his hands.
'Oh god, these are the guys I'm going to be dealing with for the next few years.'
Reeves gave him a cheeky grin.
"Don't worry, lieutenant, you'll warm up to us. We might be a bunch of assholes, but we are the assholes you have covering your back. So long as you learn how to do your job, we will keep doing ours."
Morris shoulder-checked him lightly, just enough to get his attention.
"So, why don't you tell us what your abilities are? I've never met a Trial-Born of Death before!"
Letting go of his head, Charon sighed, accepting his fate with these men.
"My ability lets me sense people around me. I know where they are and where they are moving, even if they are behind walls, although I think that may make it more difficult."
He recalled how he had sensed the Blood Spawn through the stone wall, even though they had to get very close to it.
Jameson stroked his chin.
"I've never heard of Death granting an ability like that. What aspects do you have?"
'Crap! Did I make another mistake? I hope they buy my excuse!'
Part of him worried that no matter which aspect he mentioned, he would become a pariah, but figured it was better to go with the one that didn't cause the High Priest to almost murder him.
"My aspect is Undeath. My ability has something to do with sensing death. I guess it counts natural body decay as part of that."
Despite what he was expecting, no one seemed offended by his aspect.
If anything, they grew more animated, Morris most of all.
"Undeath? My father has that aspect! He wasn't a Trial-Born like you, but he earned at least a dozen abilities during his service in the military. Growing up, he had a group of undead work as staff in our house."
The man laughed boisterously.
"I'll never look on my friend's faces when they saw a skeleton serve us dinner! Priceless!"
Reeves scowled and looked away.
"How was I supposed to react? He walked up right beside me out of nowhere and served me ribs! Ribs! I thought he had used his own!"
Charon chuckled, unable to stop himself.
"Hey!" Quentin cried.
"You don't laugh at any of my jokes, but the moment Reeves opens his mouth you giggle away? I swear you guys have no taste!"
That got a laugh out of everyone, many of the men losing their grips on their seats and sliding off as the vehicle took a harsh turn, causing even more laughter from those who remained seated.
Charon was one of the few who held on, having learned his lesson twice.
Jameson chuckled a few times, calming himself down far faster than the rest, before speaking.
"With that ability, you and Quentin could get a lot down. During our first deployment, the biggest issue he had was not knowing when someone was going to cross his path. We lost a lot of valuable opportunities because of that. If you decide to grow some balls and leave the officer hall, you could get a lot of field work done."
Charon considered his words, trying to think it through rather than go with his gut reaction, which was to say "absolutely not" and stay as far from the battle as possible.
'If I want to earn more abilities and relics, I'll need to do something notable for the God of Death to reward me. I bet helping plan a key strategy would do that, but it'd be far less likely than if I fought the elves directly. If Quentin is their scout, and I work with him, we could help change the tide of a battle. That has to be worth a relic at least!'
Shrugging, he said:
"Yeah, that sounds good to me. I've already had my first brush with battle, and it wasn't too difficult. I might as well get some training in with my ability. Earning an evolution for it would be appreciated as well."
Quentin cheered, raising an invisible glass in a mock toast.
"Well said! I'd love to take you with me! Witness me, brothers, as I turn from an irresistible bachelor, to one of a pair of dashing rogues, sworn to banish the elvish menace from the human lands for once and for all."
Morris raised his own glass.
"Hear hear!"
As if on cue, every other man did the same.
Not wanting to be left out, Charon raised his hand, only for Morris to grab his arm and stop him.
"Hey, just because we know you aren't entirely worthless doesn't mean you've fully earned your place with us. That will take far more than a single ride in Bessie."
Charon frowned as he lowered his hand.
He understood where they were coming from, but it was still odd to be excluded.
'It will take time, but I'll need these men to trust me. If I'm going to be their officer, they will need to listen to me. Anything else risks not only their lives, but mine, and I don't want to die in this city.'
Reeves spoke loudly, interrupting his thoughts.
"Oh cheer up! Just because you aren't one of us doesn't mean you can't enjoy our lovely company! You're an officer so being a stick in the mud is expected, but not before we even get to Creed!"
Quentin looked at Reeves like a predator who just caught his prey.
"I'm not sure you should be calling your company lovely, Reeves. Do you remember what those women said at that party last week?"
More jokes followed, always at the expense of someone else, but always devoid of any real malice. Charon watched it all, staying silent unless directly addressed, which grew rarer as the conversation steered away from hazing him.
Minutes turned to hours as their vehicle, Bessie as Morris called it, careened ever closer to the battlefield. The closer they got, the more they heard sounds that grew harder to pass off as the engine making a weird noise.
The occasional boom turned into loud explosions, sometimes causing the entire cabin to bounce.
Conversation faded as everyone turned serious, the war turning from a memory into a current state of being. Everyone knew what they had to do, except Charon, who was still uncertain what his actual tasks would be.
'Doesn't change the fact I'm here now. They probably have someone to help me, or a book. No way they just give me a unit to command and leave it at that. The entire army would be in chaos if that was the case!'
An explosion landed a little too close to their vehicle, the metal heating for just a second before the blast vanished.
Quentin was the only one who hadn't stopped talking completely, still making the occasional comment or sarcastic remark, including at that moment.
"Welcome to Creed, Lieutenant!"