The sun hit the horizon like a physical blow. Jack winced, his eyelids feeling like they were lined with sandpaper. He clutched his head, enduring the violent dizziness that still hit him in waves.
"Eugh... what the fuck happened last night?" he muttered as the hangover took full effect.
Across the room, Tavros was still sleeping, his head dangling off the edge of the sofa at an uncomfortable angle. Kenlil was nowhere to be found, but a tangy, savory scent was wafting from the kitchen hallway.
Jack forced himself to stand, his vision swimming, and shouted, "Ken? Kenlil!"
Kenlil appeared from the kitchen hallway, carrying a steaming pot of soup to the table. He looked remarkably fresh. "I was wondering if you'd ever wake up," Ken said, setting the pot down with a heavy thud that made Jack's brain rattle.
"W-what happened last night?" Jack asked in a groggy voice. "I can't remember a damn thing. It's all just... flashes of purple light and shouting."
Kenlil chuckled. "Oh, I don't know, maybe you tried to kiss Christine last night and she beat you down so hard she's still pissed off about it."
Jack's eyes widened, turning pale. "Wait... what? Really? Tell me I didn't actually—"
Kenlil burst out laughing. "Just kidding. No, you'd be waking up in heaven if you did. You think you'd survive that? We just had a blast. I don't even know how many bottles we finished, but we were dead drunk. The entire pub had to watch us doing a concert and doing a bunch of shits on the tables. Thanks to Mrs. Smith, the party ended earlier because we were so noisy and disturbing the neighbors. The guys at the bar had to drop us off, and I had to drag all of your asses up to the fourth floor."
Jack sipped the soup, a small smile curling on his lips. "Yeah, no shit. That's the only explanation for this damn hangover. My head is still spinning. I think I even remember us being naked at some point."
"You were so drunk you challenged Christine to a strip-drinking contest," Tavros said, suddenly appearing and sitting beside Jack, startling him. He looked like he'd crawled out of a grave. "To which she surprisingly accepted—and still won. Even us were dragged into it, including the Golden Boy. We all lost, Jack. I'm pretty sure I saw my own dignity leave my body around the fourth round."
Jack buried his face in his hands. "Oh my god... I guess I really was gone if I dared challenge her to that. Speaking of Philip, where is he? What happened to him? Is he in a ditch somewhere?"
Suddenly, the front door opened. The three turned their heads to see Philip entering in a crisp formal suit, looking as though he hadn't touched a drop of liquor in his life. He looked less like a recruit and more like he was headed to a royal ball.
"All I can say," Philip began with a bright smile, "is that everything went well for me last night. It went better than I expected, thanks to you guys."
Kenlil looked stunned. "Don't tell me—"
Tavros just sipped his soup, his massive eyebags indicating he needed another ten hours of sleep. Jack looked at Philip's attire, confused. "By the gods, what are you doing in a suit then? You look like you're going to a wedding, not a war."
"Do you know what day it is today?" Philip asked.
Jack froze as reality set in, the warm soup suddenly turning to lead in his stomach. "Oh my god. Right. Today."
"Can we do it tomorrow?" Tavros groaned weakly. "I'm in no shape or form to present myself to the military guys. They'll think I'm the enemy just based on how I look."
Philip straightened his suit, looking at his reflection in the window. "Come on, boys. I can't disappoint my dear Christine by delaying my enlistment. Mr. Smith even ordered me to bring you guys today, making sure you held your word. Come on, chop, chop."
"Then we have no choice," Jack sighed, standing up with a grunt. "Come on Tav, I'll let you borrow my old man's shirt. Yours reeks of the pub floor and shame."
Tavros stood up weakly, leaning on the table. "I'm starting to regret this. We could have just stayed as apple pickers. At least the apples don't shoot back."
"Let's hope we make it to the recruitment center in our current state," Jack added.
Philip murmured something under his breath, closing his eyes and raising his hands behind Jack and Tavros. His palms began to glow with a soft, golden light before he lightly slapped their backs. Instantly, the exhaustion vanished. A warmth spread through Jack's limbs, clearing the fog from his mind. They were rejuvenated, even if their faces still looked like they'd seen a long night.
"Hooooh... that should do it," Tavros said, shaking his shoulders and blinking. "Thanks, Golden Boy. I actually feel like a person again."
Jack twisted his shoulder, feeling the blood flow. "Yeah, at the very least, I now look like I am willing to die for my country, rather than looking like I already have."
Kenlil, already dressing up using clothes pulled from his sub-space satchel, remarked, "That's an elven perk. If not, I would've been dead like you guys. High-Elf magic is a cheat code, honestly." He looked at Philip. "I didn't take you for an elf at first, Philip. I thought you were just a very well-groomed human."
"Mostly everyone mistakes me for one," Philip said, touching his ears which looked human. "My mother was part human, part High-Elf. But my father's genomes were dominant, so it explains the ears. I got the internal circuits, but not the external antenna."
"High-Elf, huh?" Kenlil said, biting his tie while struggling with his pants. "That explains why you don't smell like a brewery this morning."
"Yeah," Philip replied. "Are you a High-Elf too?"
"No, I'm a forest elf," Kenlil grumbled. "I'd be taller like you if I was. Instead, I'm built for hiding in bushes and complaining about the weather."
A little later, everyone was ready. Jack looked at the group, each of them standing a little taller, despite the lingering shadows under their eyes. "Alright. Everyone ready? No turning back once we hit the street."
"More or less," Tavros said, wiping his polo shirt. "I've got my papers and my fear. I'm good to go."
"You both dress up like women," Kenlil complained. "It takes too damn long. We're going to war, not a fashion show."
They went down the stairs and stepped outside. The air in Marmello was crisp, carrying the scent of coal smoke and early morning dew. Across the street, Jack saw a few other young boys dressed in their best clothes, looking just as nervous. Jack shouted, "Are you guys going to Juwark too?"
They nodded and crossed the road to join them, their boots clicking on the cobblestones. Jack smiled as he shook hands with a young man with short curly hair. "Hey Luke, I never thought you'd sign up too. I thought you were headed for the university in the capital."
Luke snickered, though his eyes were restless. "And what? Miss all this? No way. Everyone's doing their part and I don't wanna be left behind as the only guy in town who can't hold a rifle. Besides, I'm looking to impress Sarah Loville. Figured if I make it out of the war with a few medals, I'll finally have a chance with her."
Jack chuckled. "You don't say. Seems we're all chasing ghosts and girls today."
"What, you guys too?" Luke asked, noticing the group.
"Well," Tavros said, "we all have someone to impress, and we can only impress them the way our fathers and grandfathers know how. By getting into trouble in far-away places."
Everyone agreed, sharing a shared laugh that helped cut the tension. "That's also including Philip here," Kenlil added, gesturing toward the well-dressed blonde.
The newcomers looked at Philip, wondering who the lucky girl was. He stood out like a diamond in a coal mine. "You would never guess," Kenlil smirked. "It's Christine. The Lioness herself."
Luke and the others stunned, stopping in their tracks. "I... I could never have guessed," Luke stammered. "I mean, I'd guess it if it was Sophia Mallcosia or Althea Soroschia—the rich girls who like pretty things. But Christine? Damn. You got balls of adamantium, my friend. She'll either marry you or bury you."
"We're just friends... yet," Philip smiled, seemingly unbothered by the warning. "Mr. Smith hinted that if I want a shot at her, I have to make a name for myself. A man needs a foundation before he builds a house, right?"
"Good luck on that," Luke said, patting Philip's back with a grimace. "Basically every young man in this town has surrendered. But we're rooting for you, buddy. We really are. If you survive Christine, the Grendheich army will be a vacation."
Philip smiled. "Thank you. I'll keep that in mind when the shells start falling."
"That's enough of that," Jack interrupted, checking the time on a pocket watch that had seen better days. "We might have missed a bus already, and I don't fancy walking all the way to Juwark. Let's get moving."
The group turned and began their long walk toward the recruitment center. As they walked, the small-talk died down, replaced by the rhythmic sound of their footsteps. They were no longer just friends from the block; they were a small band of boys heading toward the horizon, where the smoke of a distant war waited to greet them.