Chapter 32: Herald
THIRD PERSON POV
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The rain hadn’t stopped for days. It soaked through tents, turned the parade grounds into mud, and left the training fields stinking of wet leather and unwashed bodies. Herald didn’t mind the smell. He minded the weight. Every morning, before the sun even scraped the horizon, they lined up—dozens of boys who’d never held a sword in their lives, clad in borrowed armor that fit like punishment.
Herald’s chest plate slipped to the left no matter how tight he tied the cords. The helmet made him feel like he was drowning. His sword, dulled from years of ceremonial use, was heavier than his old anvil back at the smithy. He had always thought swords looked noble in paintings, but now all he saw was cold steel and the promise of blood.
"Lift your arms higher, boy," barked the drill sergeant, pacing up and down the line. "Unless you want to die the first time someone swings at your gut."
Herald tried. His arms trembled under the sword’s weight. He forced himself to raise it higher, jaw clenched, breath short. The man next to him, some farmer’s son with straw-colored hair, grunted as he adjusted his own stance. They were all the same. Too young. Too thin. Too afraid.
He wasn’t supposed to be here. He was supposed to be in Eudenia’s capital, making nails and horse shoes, mending hinges, listening to his father complain about taxes and iron prices. But the draft didn’t care about apprenticeships or peaceful dreams. The war had chewed up half the kingdom already, and now it wanted more bodies to throw into the eastern flank.
That night, Herald sat alone by the campfire. Rain hissed as it struck the flames. Most of the other recruits were huddled under tarps or clustered around card games, trying to forget tomorrow’s drills. His hands still shook. He rubbed them together, trying to summon warmth. Instead, he found Myrin.
She came like she always did—quiet, sharp-eyed, all edges and wind-chapped cheeks. A bow was slung over her back, and her short brown hair clung to her forehead. She plopped down beside him, pulling her hood lower.
"You look like you’ve seen a ghost," she said.
"I saw myself in a mirror," Herald replied.
Myrin smirked. "Still scared?"