After all, we are all the same in the eyes of the Gods. A.

In rows of seven, Nick planted the sunflower seeds in the soft dug-up sand. He embraced the God of Sloth and did it slowly, postponing the inevitable moment when he had to face the small company that had gathered in the royal garden for Abby's funeral. It should have been a private moment, not disturbed by the occasional blaring sound of a distant horn or too many eyes that didn't belong there. Apart from Alex, the one person who truly mattered was missing: Seb.

"His Lordship and His Majesty are preparing the official announcement of this afternoon," Captain Jonathan had said.

A lie or an excuse, he didn't know or care. Seb should have been there. Queen Crystal and Princess Alana were expected to be at the announcement too, and they had managed to grace the garden with their presence. So why couldn't Seb?

He reached for the bowl on his right but found it empty. All forty-nine seeds had found their way into the soil. This was it. If he stood up now, her passing would be more definite than it already was. Every day he would age while she remained stuck at five years, seven moons, and twenty-four days. Just like George, Mother, and Father would never grow older.

It wasn't fair. Fox's squeaky voice and pouty face flashed through his mind. He ground his teeth. No, he shouldn't become bitter. Today was going to be his first day in the army, and he needed to look ahead, to the future.

Giving the dirt a final pat, he rose to his feet. He blinked a couple of times to regain his composure, then turned around and nodded to the crowd. "The watering ceremony can begin."

The Queen and the Princess were the first ones to walk up to him with a golden jug in their hands. They halted at opposite sides of the soon-to-be flowerbed that was Abby's grave and poured river water over the seeds. Queen Crystal crouched down and buried a small piece of bear skin in between the fifth and sixth row.

Instead of shaking his hand, she wrapped her arms around him and whispered with a voice full of emotion. "The Winter Bear will watch over her too, Nicolas. Your Gods, my Gods—all of them take care of innocent lives taken too soon."

"Thank you, Your Majesty. I know they do."

 The Queen wasn't quick enough to wipe away the tear that was rolling down her cheek. She welcomed the hand of Princess Alana, who suddenly stood right in front of him. "I'm so sorry, Nick. It's such a shame. She would have loved Sundale. We could have grown up as sisters."

He smiled, but he was closer to crying than he dared to show. "I guess you're stuck with a lazy, smelly brother now."

"Beats a moping cousin." Though her lips stayed in a bare line, there was a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Good luck today, Nick. You're gonna do well in the Academy and with your patrol. One day you'll be a great General, and then Abby will be so proud of her lazy, smelly brother."

Nick chuckled, a hiccup-like sob bringing the tears anyway.

As the royal ladies parted ways with him, General George and Captain Jonathan stood ready to say their condolences. They were the first of a string of army men. Nearly all guards had laid down their weapons to be at the funeral, like he was an important officer already.

Almost mindlessly Nick uttered his 'thank you's', his gaze more focused on the second left window of the fourth floor, wherefrom His Majesty and Seb were looking down on the royal garden. The King held an arm around Seb, as though he was the one needing to be consoled.

Nick's grip tightened as he shook hands with Lieutenant Stephen. The coward. He should have shown himself in the garden. It would have been more decent than hiding away.

At last, Alex emptied the jug onto Abby's final resting place. She wiped her cheeks clean before nearly falling into his arms. "Why does it feel like the end of everything?" She sobbed.

"Because it is." As he spoke, a strand of her hair got caught between his lips. He spat it out. Moment ruined. "But you know, every ending is just a new beginning."

"Which book said that?"

"The book I still need to write, when I'm old and grey, and a retired General." He snuggled into the nape of her neck. The others may stare if they wished so. Alex was his friend, and the only one who truly cared about Abby. "You'll be in there too, commenting on all of my decisions with a disapproving shake of the head and calling me a muttonhead."

"You got that right, Muttonhead." 

The second she let go, Nick wanted her back already. From now on they would only see each other during the evening and on the day of Temperance. No more lengthy hunting and fighting sessions where she would beat him every single time. 

Who knew he would ever miss being a warrior?

Lieutenant Stephen tapped him on the shoulder. "Are you ready to meet your patrol, Cadet Nicolas?"

Nick sighed. He could have done with another day reading dusty books in the library. "As ready as one is after a funeral, Lieutenant."

"I'm sorry, lad, but His Majesty insisted that today be your first day. It would take your mind off things."

"It's fine. I bet he fears I'll have read all the books in the library by winter."

"His Majesty has no fears, young Cadet."

As the horn resounded yet another time, the Lieutenant opened the door back into the castle. He kept a steady pace, as all military men seemed to have.

Sweat was already pouring down Nick's back as he ran down the stairs and onto Sundale's market square. On the highest tip of the giant sundial stood a man with a coiled brass horn. His cheeks puffed up as he blew the instrument, its bellowing sound scaring the few unlucky pigeons who were enjoying a breakfast of leftovers at the bottom of the two-storey temple.

"A horrible sound, yes," Lieutenant Stephen said as the pigeons landed back on the ground to continue their meal. "You'll get used to it. The bugle is blown each day at eight forty-five to call the patrols. Every three minutes it is repeated. The formation starts at nine-fifteen sharp."

Nick had heard Father's tales about the army formation each morning. All five hundred patrols of Sundale gathered on one of the big meadows just outside Sundale to receive their orders for the day. It was an unnecessary back-and-forth running in and out of the city, but it was impressive. Apparently.

"Aren't we running a little late, Lieutenant? I still don't know which patrol I'm going to belong to."

"Yes, but don't you worry. I don't expect you to already participate. Just watch and get blown away. I'll introduce you to the lads after the ceremony."

Past the eastern city gate was no meadow, but a sea of green uniforms that were trampling the pathetic wisps that had once been grass. The other Cadets stood out in the crowd with their brown shoulder bags that hung low under the weight of books, but those weren't the only bags they had. Their eyes showed all the signs of sleepless nights, and many of them were muttering at the pile of papers in their hands.

Maybe the Academy would finally force the God of Sloth out of his body. Nick reconsidered the thought. All the rivers in The Greenlands would freeze over before that happened. 

"The Academy only allows the best men to continue. Anyone who fails is downgraded or forced to leave the army. Only the junior patrols have Cadets. The regulars and seniors only have soldiers and Serjeants." Lieutenant Stephen halted underneath a sycamore tree that stood close to the city's moat. "Wait here for further instructions. Officially, I only oversee the second legion of the juniors, about fifty patrols, but the Captain has asked me to lead the formation today."

"Aye Lieutenant." None of this worried him. Even if he failed, the kitchens of Sunstone Castle were still an option. And not a bad one either.

"Formation in two minutes!" shouted the Lieutenant. He trailed to the middle of the meadow, where Stable Master Dicky was standing next to a large brown stallion. 

An uneasy feeling gnawed at Nick. The General had announced Abby's funeral so out of the blue that he hadn't had the opportunity to visit Billy. Tonight he had to visit the stables, after dinner. No excuses.

The few men that had been sluggishly lazing around got up. The young cadets stuffed their papers back into their bags. All over, the Serjeants with a crown next to the two regular golden sycamore leaves on their collar did final check-ups of the uniforms. A large middle-aged man with a pointy beard scolded his scrawny comrade. What for, Nick did not know.

The Lieutenant mounted the horse and trotted around in circles as an immensely big square formed in front of him in rows of three. After the bugle had let out a drawn-out parp, various shouts erupted from opposite sides of the square. Clamorous chants yet not undisciplined. There was a certain charm to it, though he couldn't quite make out what they were shouting.

"Due to unforeseen circumstances, there won't be an inspection today. Those of you who are missing buttons or have dirty uniforms or swords, tomorrow is another day to redeem yourselves." There was not a tremor in the Lieutenant's voice that blared through a large cone protruding from his mouth. It may not be an everyday occasion but he had no trouble speaking in front of three thousand men. "There are no changes to the morning schedule. However, all activities of the afternoon have been suspended in favour of an important speech from His Majesty. You're all required to be at the market square at two o' clock."

"Maybe he'll finally announce the arrival of Lord Sebastian." A soldier with jug ears, who stood but twenty feet from Nick, was immediately silenced by a stern Serjeant whose light hair ended in two thin braids. He stood at the front of their six-man line. Not only the crown on his collar but also his position showed that he was their leader.

"That's all, Gentlemen," continued Lieutenant Stephen. "With the exception of patrol seventeen of my legion, you're all dismissed."

The jug-eared soldier opened his mouth in shock as the big beefy Serjeant closing the ranks glared at him. The patrol leader beckoned him to remain calm; he seemed aware of what was going to happen, which resulted in more confusing looks from his comrades.

They were the men he had to befriend. He wasn't sure how to do that. Seb, Alex, and Fox had always been there. Their friendship something he took for granted.

The sea of green flowed from the meadow in neatly structured waves. As the last of the patrols set course to the city gate, Lieutenant Stephen trotted towards the last line, then got off the horse. "Cadet Nicolas, come here."

Nick exhaled deeply and joined the Lieutenant's side. Two Serjeants, one other Cadet, and three soldiers. All of them seemingly between the ages of twelve and late teens or early twenties. Nervously, his fingers twitched behind his back. 

He was heartbeats away from meeting his patrol; the new friends he would have for life.

Suddenly he felt smaller than he already was.