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"Luxury.  Magic.  Warmth from shelter and a full belly," a woman with a musical voice announced to my troop.  A troop of all men- with me as the outlier.  What's new?

My troop and I clustered around a marble stage with a woman whose voice echoed without the help of a microphone.  Magic was pungent in the air around us, undoubtedly coming from her.  Pinks and blues swirled around her, protecting and encasing.  She wore a silver tiara woven into her hair, with emeralds the size of my eyes lodged perfectly in the center of the arc.  Diamonds dripped down her neck, ears, and wrists.  I envied her wealth and powerful appearance.  I hidden part of me longed to be dripping with diamonds and jewels; to just be in control and elegant for once.  

Loathing doesn't do much good to a girl when you can't change anything about your future.

Her brown hair that shined in the rays of light that came from the low, midday sun lay in tendrils down her back, stopping short of the leather belt that was slung over her small hips.  Her long, black velvet dress draped over her petite frame, making her look like less of a threat and more of a princess performing her duties for her troops.  Gold accents that are probably authentic swirled up the sides of her dress and up the long sleeves.  She looked like any other young girl from the gather; just cleaner, and more educated.  Easily distracted by her normalcy, I nearly forgot I remained in the presence of a demon.

I guess the Gather Folk's fables are true; the Gods were easily bewitched by the evil spirits because the evil resides within, and is encased by divine features.

Other men too became transfixed with her beauty.  It didn't take long to notice the way she purposefully smiled at individual men and boys, or the way she blushed when a man would make vulgar movements directed towards her.  Her eyes, however, told a different story.  She tactically acted innocent; as if to make her game of cat and mouse much more amusing to the Elite.  She knows exactly how to play the game; she has been at it for a long time by the looks of it.

Clearly, the Elite purposefully entranced us; hoping we might forget about the horrors awaiting.  Or, possibly, to even find their own disgusting amusement.  Deceitful and manipulative it was of the Elite to trick the men into having them think she contained no power within her bones.  She is a tiger dressed in a lambs hide, preparing for a hunt.  Most of the men didn't even grasp just how powerful and manipulative she can be.

Without a warning glance she could crack every neck in this room, or burn this place to the ground.  The thought made my arms goose flesh.  

"These are all things you will be gifted while you fight for us."  She added, snapping me from my thoughts.  I jumped from the sudden awareness flooding through me.  A boy next to me softly chuckled, making my face turn beet red.  I looked into his eyes, noticing how young he appeared.  He had to be no more than twelve, taken away too soon.  

I looked away, sick to my stomach at the thought of him dying in the battle field.  Odds are, he wouldn't make it out alive after the first few days, that is, if he didn't die in training.

"You are doing our council and kingdom a great service by volunteering to joining the army," she continued, smiling.

It felt as if her comment slapped me.  Volunteering?  As if we had any choice in the matter!  My choices were join or die!  I wouldn't call that volunteer work!

A man standing to my right chuckled. I saw him earlier when we were being sorted.  He is beefy, with hands as thick as branches and a jagged scar across his face.  He had eyes that could make an Elite drop dead with one icy glare.  His legs were as thick as tree trunks.  Those hands could snap me clean in two if he willed them to do so.  I am the only woman in my troop, making me the easiest target.  I am the only woman on the entire field.  I am the first, and I can already sense the dangers that I am to face.  I hope that I do not see the day when he is my enemy, or when any of them are my enemy.

"And pigs fly too," was all the man replied in a sarcastic voice.  The rest of the crowd cackled and howled with laughter.  He was already sinking his claws into leadership within the barracks.  I am not looking forward to sharing a barrack house with this man.  

I had a hand securely set on the knife attached to my belt, ready to swipe or stab when threatened.  Or if he gets too close for comfort.  You could never be too prepared, right?

Suddenly, I remembered the events leading up to this pep talk.  I remembered how humiliatingly awkward the tasks felt, and how much of a child the Elite made me feel at times.

Upon our arrival my troop and I  were herded into groups defined by sex; that consisted of every man and boy standing at one end of the room, while I stood alone at the other end. Hurriedly, women ushered me into a room, and forced to sit in a rather uncomfortable marble chiseled chair.  The crotchety old women interrogated me for nearly three hours about my reading and writing skills.  If I didn't answer the questions to her liking she slapped a ruler across my hands and repeated the question.

Cruel and unusual punishment?  Definitely.  

I knew basic reading and writing skills like "I saw the cat," and "The dog is black," but anything higher than those simple sentences I could not comprehend or even begin to write.  Attempting to read and write seemed more barbaric than it should have.  My brain power seemed to slowly drain the more I tried to construct sentences, making me feel utterly idiotic.  If only they asked me if I knew many traps for catching wild game-  something that is actually useful to the Barracks.

Following the interrogation I was led to a room where my hair was thoroughly brushed, and the old clothes that clung to my body were stripped. Nothing was left of my old life. Not even a thread. The professional prep team then washed my body  until my skin was shiny pink and raw.  The prep team plucked every out of place hair out of my eyebrows, and added a moisturizer after.  Glittery eye makeup coated my lids, and a thick paste masked the freckles dotting over my nose and cheeks.  The only recognizable features that remained of the old Sora remained the same color; red-orange flames.  The stylists only cut two inches off of my hair after they brushed it.  I can't remember the last time I cut it; it has been since my mother's death at least.

A woman came to me after the team of professionals finished aggressively assaulting my body.  She appeared to be more common than the rest of the people at this place; a simple velvet dress with simple long, straight blonde hair.  Her eyes glowed, the pink of her irises reflecting in her cheeks.  The Elites seemed to never have normal colored eyes.  She wore an apologetic smile, while I fought the robe that scantily covered my body.

She held a bundled item, wrapped in a thick brown paper and tied off with string.

"Pardon the impractical uniform, but you are the only woman to ever be summoned. We were very...unprepared for your recruiting." I scowled at her, un-bothered by her failed attempt at conversation.  She still stuck to her kindness.  "His majesty must have saw something great within your mind." 

 I guess the rumors are true.  The Gather Folk always clucked at the local pub, spreading rumors about the Elite ways.  Once, while I drank a rather strong beer, I heard one highly intoxicated man bellow on about the Bastard of All the Lands.  Stumbling and grasping the edge of the table, he rambled on in his thick, drunken voice about how the recruitment system works.  

"My brother has worked closely with the Elite's.  Prior to contrary belief, it is frequently that the Elites collaborate with us normal Gather Folk, and come to sorts of agreements.  When feeling generous enough, they offer our brothers and sisters jobs, and entitle us humans that provide a portion of their riches."

"On with the story Brothernan!"  His friend bellowed back. 

"Ah yes!  As I was saying, the rumor is true; the Bastard of All the Lands does indeed choose every soldier that steps foot on the battle ground due to his intelligent powers that have been bestowed by the gods!  He chooses each person for their unique powers that are harnessed by our normal blood, and transform ever recruit into the beast the gods say they are meant to be." 

"Such a curious thing, isn't it?"  His friend asked.  

"Yes, I would say so Neccue.  I would indeed love to know why he chooses each person, and why he doesn't just save the time and effort it takes to appoint all of those men.  Just light the bitch on fire!  Then he wouldn't have to waste so much time with this nonsense."  I tuned out the rest of their conversation about torching the battlefield.  

The Gods see power harnessed within my blood, anciently engraved in my bones; yet another sick joke.  Gather Folk are not easily tricked, we know that humans are born with no magical powers.  We obtain nothing special except agricultural skills that have been inherited from generations before.  For the King to say that he chooses us because of our abilities is just another move in his game.  Hopefully he sees something in me when I slaughter his entire army.  He might think twice about my so-called powers.

 The woman handed me the package that contained my battle uniform and then walked out, her pristine dress gliding behind her.

I didn't hesitate before ripping and tearing the brown paper.

Cased in a white box, the dark colors looked darker, more menacing.  I quickly picked up the furry material, examining it.  The clothes smelled sweet, like roses from a spring field that I have yet to see.

The word impractical didn't describe how utterly ridiculous they appeared. 

 Black leather pants with a button up blue shirt made of heavy denim and basic undergarments made my body look feminine.  A faux fur coat as black as midnight came with a belt full of daggers and knives. Thick wool socks and brown leather boots that came to just below my knee pinched my toes, making me wish the prep team would have left my old worn leather ones. 

The Elite really thought this war was something for looks, didn't they? They thought they could dress us up and parade us down the streets as heroes, then murder us in our sleep.  

For the first time in my life I looked like a woman. I hated it more than the Elite class.

"You will be gifted," the woman at the podium continued, snapping me from my thoughts once more.  She seemed unaffected by the men's comments.  Her eyes landed on me, as she continued her speech, as protocol called for. "You are the most...peculiar group yet to arrive." 

My fingers tightened over my knife.

* 

Before boarding to the train to the barracks, we were taken to a room so we could eat what they call lunch at the recruiting station. A long room with adequate lighting contained beautiful, glinting crystals suspending on nothing more than thin air, making the light catch and sparkle, chairs and tables already stocked with the steaming plates of food, and the soft melody of music spilling out from an instrument hidden from view. Not one empty chair could be found; the staff had placed out the exact number, and not a single extra one. The men sat at their tables, drinking red wine from gold and ruby encrusted goblets. I sat at my own table. Apparently mixing the opposite sex is taboo to the Elite prunes.

Much to my surprise the Elite provided a hearty meal of assorted fish and pork over a bed of steamed rice with a white sauce blanketed over the top. Endless pitchers of red wine followed, giving the men a good laugh. The wine reeked of magic, probably charmed to keep us from getting drunk before boarding. A feast fit for kings lay before me, yet I do not pick up my fork. What are the Elite buttering us up for?

"Not hungry?" A deep voice asks. "Because if so, may I have your plate?"

"Not hungry," I confirm, taking a sip of wine.

A pesky male has decided to join me? I wonder when the Elite guards will show to take him away and beat him for having the audacity to talk to a woman in such a regulated area.  I chuckle at the thought.

"You could use some meat on your bones. That fancy fur coat of yours only puts a few pounds on you, if that," he remarks.  "After all, your clothes are very different from ours.  They must be trying to make you look cold and beautiful.  Like one of them."

He's right, as much as I hate to admit the fact.  It's blatantly obvious.  

The men's dress code did not follow my own; they had on newer work shirts and slacks than before. Nothing compared to my fancy, almost royal attire.  They did not have one ounce of paste coating their skin.  In comparison, the men were treated nothing like me.  The men only had one knife tucked into sheaths on their belts, while I had an assortment of my own choosing. Elite Bastard must think I need extra protection just because my genitalia does not match of those around me. How cute.

"At least I will be warmer in the rain," I mutter, taking another healthy drink of succulent wine.  I hope they feed us wine at the Barracks.  "What is your name anyways?"

He sticks out a hand, reminding me of an action a teenage boy would do, even though he seemed to be older than twenty. "The names Royce." I gazed at his outstretched hand, following the length of his arm up to his face. A goofy smile hung on his lips. Freckles that closely resembled mud flecks dotted his cheeks and nose. Hazel eyes flecked with gold cut through my icy skin. Brown hair that is freshly washed stuck up in odd directions. If I weren't being paraded to my death I would bother to say he's cute.

"Sora," I say, shaking his hand. His grip is strong, but not terribly.  He reminds me of home in a way.

"I was being serious about your food, Sweetcheeks."

I retract my hand, immediately disgusted. Men and their two simple pleasures in life; food and sex. I take another sip of ruby magic that probably laced with poison from my goblet, waving him on.

"Go for it Royce," I say with an eye roll.

He digs in without question.

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Posted on January 3, 2016.
Partially edited on January 25, 2017.

I FINALLY FINISHED THE CHAPTER! My notebook has been blank and sad, waiting for writers block to finally leave so I could continue writing this amazing (to me) story! Finally, it has ended!!

Remember that all of this is a work in progress!!!  

I don't really like this chapter, but I feel that once I have composed more of a plot things will be a lot better!

Leave your feed back guys, this was a long chapter. It was originally 400 words, and I expanded on my idea!

Vote if you loved it!
2682 words.