Will POV

I woke up with sun filtering through a window in the tent relaxingly, birds singing outside. The air felt fresh. It would have been a beautiful morning, except for the fact that my back ached and I couldn't stretch my arms due to the rope tied so tightly around them that it was digging into my skin. I let my head hang and closed my eyes again, hoping I could find some comfortable position in all of this, but it seemed like rebel-leader Reyna had definitely specifically ordered for me to be uncomfortable.

Someone stepped into the tent. I would've looked up at them, but my chair was not facing the door. Figures. I'm about to be murdered and I can't even look at my killer's face before it happens.

I felt the rope being untied from around my ankles, and then from my thighs and upper arms until all that was left was the lone rope keeping my wrists together. I was free from the chair—finally. I leaned in different directions to stretch before looking at whoever had freed me.

A woman, pale and with short black- and purple-dyed hair, stood in front of me with a dagger pointed at me. She held herself high, and she was already wearing armor. She put the dagger to my throat. They must be really low on supplies, I thought, or else she'd have a sword. 

"Stand up. You're the prince, right? We're going to the bay and we're stealing everything we can carry. Reyna doesn't know we're doing this. We only have a small portion of the camp, so if this is a trap I would recommend that you tell us now so you don't waste your identity on the lives of less than ten in a camp of thousands."

I stood. "This isn't a trick, and I'm not a spy. Well, not on you at least. Am I leading the way, or what? What's my job?"

"Yes, you're leading and carrying supplies. Come on. We have to be gone by the time Reyna wakes up, which should be very soon. Reyna's an early riser."

She put her arm on my shoulder and her knife to my back as she led me through the camp. Not many were awake, and the few that still fought sleep gathered by a large fire pit, setting it up for breakfast. Rebels on the night shift, probably. There were a couple rebels fishing on the beach, which was on the east side of the camp, and I guessed there were some in the woods, hunting and gathering food for today's meals. The rest of the camp was spread out along the beach, on the grass, in tents, and anywhere else they could fit sleeping bags. Most of them didn't even shift as we passed by, too enveloped by their dreams.

The woman pushed me into the forest, and soon enough we found the group we were leaving with. There were, like the woman had said, only about nine of them, plus me. We had horses, and the woman with the knife loaded me onto mine before tying my hands to the reins and my horse's reins to hers. Again, comfort was not a priority, I suppose, because this truly sucked.

Then we left, and though it was difficult to ride with my hands tied together, I was doing well enough that we were able to pick up the speed. We didn't run into the army on the way there, at least. The woman with the knife—I should learn her name—stopped halfway there to tighten my bonds.

We heard another horse, and all ten of us froze. The woman swore quietly and tightened the knot on the ropes one last time before hopping back onto her own horse and gesturing for us to get going again. It was too late. The mystery rider was going fast, faster than I could go with my hands tied, and they were catching up. I could hear their horse, and they were getting too close, and they burst through the foliage on my right—

"Reyna?"

She had a grim expression on her face as she rode next to us. "You better be right about this, Thalia," she said to the knife lady, "or else we're all dying together."

Thalia grinned. "I knew you'd come through!"

Reyna sent her a look. "You're lucky you're literally the most gorgeous woman I've ever met, Thalia."

We rode mostly in silence, except for Reyna and Thalia's occasional flirting. ("You know, I don't care how many blankets we're going to steal today—you're always what keeps my heart warm anyway," followed by a snort.)

We arrived in the evening of the third day. I know I had said it was going to be a massacre, but somehow I didn't expect this. The bodies of young soldiers lay everywhere, eyes open and staring to the sky. Hands open by their swords. Wounds gaping. 

"Look for survivors first," Reyna ordered. "We'll take anyone who needs our help back to camp. Anyone who was unharmed would've left by now."

I helped them check pulses. It was horrible work. No one was alive—I murmured that maybe they had brought their injured with them when they fled, but Reyna had laughed at me and told me I must not know how they treat the soldiers.

I knew it wasn't well. Being a warrior was honorable, but it was lonely and painful, from what I'd heard. They leave as children for a fort and then are raised to be the perfect warrior until they're killed or high enough in the ranks to be trusted, which didn't happen often. I knew there weren't a lot of options for a happy life if you were a warrior like these people. I whispered my wishes for them each time I found a new body.

It took hours. No one was finding anyone alive, but I seemed to be the only one bothered by it. Thalia and Reyna's expressions were grim, sure, but I was seriously on the verge of either crying or puking, and I wasn't sure which. I was about to give up when—

"Oh my God! Oh my God! Reyna, this one is alive!" Thalia yelled, eyes the size of saucers as she turned over one of the many bodies.

She was over a boy, probably my age, with long black hair tied into a small bun on the back of his head. His eyes were closed and his hand was clutching his side, where blood leaked through his fingers.

I searched in nearby soldiers' bags for medical supplies, but Reyna huffed and told me I wouldn't find any. Soldiers weren't raised to survive—they were raised to take down as many enemies as they can before dying. There wouldn't be anything we could use to help him in the army's bags.

Luckily, Thalia had brought her own gauze. She tugged on the guy's shirt to get it out of the way, and my eyes automatically fell to the bare skin. Deep scars, new and old, fractured his skin, and technicolor bruises fill in the pieces of his body torn up by old wounds. Reyna knelt by the boy's side, but she wasn't looking at the injuries he'd been subjected to. She was searching his shirt with a frown. 

"Where's your rank tag?" she murmured.

I had no idea what a rank tag was or what it looked like in order to locate it, so I set to helping Thalia move him instead. Reyna watched the boy with narrowed eyes as we hefted him. We set him by our horses. His head fell to the side as we set him down and worry tugged at my heart. I hoped he'd be okay.

We took blankets and extra clothes, as well as anything that could hold water or food. We refilled the bottles at the shore and used makeshift filters to make it safe to drink. Then the fallen soldier was hoisted onto Thalia's horse and we were off again, back to camp. I kept looking back to see if the guy had awoken yet.

We stopped to eat when it got dark. A few went hunting, but I wasn't trusted with that, so I stayed back with Reyna, Thalia, a few other rebels, and the unconscious boy.

He lurched awake only a few minutes after the others left. He blinked and squinted, trying to figure out his surroundings. His eyes fell on each of us separately, and me last.

He sucked in a breath before we could introduce ourselves and winced as he shifted into a kneeling position, head bowed and right fist at his chest. His left was behind his back, clenched.

I frowned. "Uh, you probably should go back to laying down. You were stabbed, remember?"

He didn't acknowledge me. He was still as a statue.

Reyna gave me a glare. "He's kneeling because of you. He knows you're royalty and is trying to be respectful. Now we gotta figure out a way to convince him to lay back down, or that wound may not heal up very well," she said accusingly, like this was somehow my fault.

I looked back at the boy. "Hey, uh, dude? You don't have to kneel or anything. It's okay. I don't need it."

The boy didn't move.

I looked at Reyna for help. She rolled her eyes. "God, you're really clueless about everything, aren't you?"

Thalia filled me in. "He's been raised like this since he was a kid. Reyna just means it's going to take some serious bending of the rules to get him to cave. He's used to severe punishment if he breaks form."

The boy didn't even seem to hear her. He wasn't looking at any of us. His face was eerily blank.

"Hey man," Reyna said, kneeling next to him. "Would it help to know I also used to be a soldier?"

His eyes flickered to the side, but never up to her face or anyone else's. His form was tense, but perfect. His back was straight, not curved, and his fist didn't waver once from his chest. His hair was falling in his face a little as his bun came apart, but it only managed to add to his attractiveness. His jaw was clenched as Reyna spoke to him.

"You're going to have to get used to new rules. Rules that are much easier to follow, but the switch is hard. Will you be ready?" She asked, trying to tilt his chin up to look at her. He forced it back down.

Reyna took a slow breath in, eyes never leaving him. "Okay. This one follows rules to a point. We're not going to be able to get through to him for a long time probably. Soldier, what's your name? Speak."

For the first time, his voice cut through the air, monotonous and emotionless, "I am Soldier 1017."

"Ten-Seventeen? Okay. I'm Reyna. I used to be Soldier 567."

Ten-Seventeen didn't respond.

Reyna looked at the sky. "What happened at the bay, ten-seventeen? Speak."

He answered without blinking. "We were refilling our water when they came out of the woods. It was a massacre and many of us were unarmed."

I cut into their conversation. "Why do you keep saying 'speak' at the end of every question. Isn't that a little...controlling?"

Reyna glanced at me. "It's a rule he's still trying to follow. He wasn't allowed to speak unless he was allowed to break form or unless he was specifically told to do so from a superior."

"You told him you were a soldier. Why does he think you're his superior?" I asked.

"She's not in uniform," Thalia told me. "Soldiers are always in uniform, so he probably figures she rose through the ranks somehow. Plus her soldier number is lower than his, which means she is technically his superior, according to their rules."

I blew out a long breath. "I have a lot to learn."

"Hell yeah, you do," Reyna muttered. She turned back to the boy. "Break form."

He tensed but stayed in his same position.

"Hey, Ten-seventeen. Did you hear me? Break form."

He stayed stock-still (A/N: no idea if I spelled that correctly, sorry). Thalia and I watched with curiosity.

Reyna grunted, frustrated. "He's not listening to me. Why isn't he listening to me?"

"Maybe he—" I offered, but she interrupted me, too upset that she wasn't in control of the situation.

"There's gotta be a rule I'm not thinking of. Something I forgot since I've been away...?" She bit the inside of her cheek.

The hunters returned with a few rabbits and a small fox. They'd cook the meats and keep the furs to use for more blankets or clothing later on. As they walked, they glanced at the soldier in passing but didn't seem to be as curious as Thalia and I.

They set to cooking the meat over a small fire. Meanwhile, Reyna continued to try to get through to the soldier, who hadn't moved a muscle this whole time. Finally, she resorted to asking questions again.

"Ten-seventeen, what's your name? Speak."

A flicker of confusion passed over his face. "I am Soldier 1017."

"No. What's your real name? Speak."

He was silent, apparently at a loss for words. Finally, he tried again: "My name is Soldier Ten-seventeen."

"I already told you that's not what I meant, Ten-seventeen. Speak."

His jaw shifted back and forth. "I apologize, Ma'am. I do not understand your meaning. Please reword in a way a mere rank-three soldier may comprehend."

Reyna winced and glanced at her girlfriend. "I forgot about that line. They make you memorize responses like that for when you don't know what to do. Those officers were more cruel than I remember. Let's see, what else is there to ask you? Oh! Why is your rank tag gone? Speak."

The soldier winced before once again smoothing his face over into neutrality. "I committed an error." He didn't give more information.

"What kind of error? Speak."

"I broke form without permission, Ma'am."

She raised her eyebrows. "Any way we can get you to do that again?"

He didn't answer.

"Speak."

He worked his jaw some more. "I apologize, Ma'am. I do not understand your meaning. Please reword in a way a mere rank-three soldier may comprehend."

Reyna groaned and sat back. The soldier once again moved his eyes so he wasn't looking at her. His arms must be getting tired by now.

Reyna frowned at him and shook her head. "I'm sorry. I can't figure out why he listens to me until I tell him to break form. I'm his superior—he should be listening to me." The soldier swallowed hard, and I tilted my head at him.

"Any chance he's scarred from when he broke form the first time?" I asked.

She blew some hair out of her face. "There's a chance of that, but it wouldn't make sense for him to ignore an officer's command again. I mean, that would have meant more punishment, not less. I don't understand. I must be missing something."

The soldier gave us no clues. His face remained creepily calm, and his knee was beginning to sink into some mud where he was kneeling. He didn't even shift it onto dry dirt.

The rebels who'd been cooking called us over to eat. We set aside a portion for Ten-seventeen ("Oh, God," Reyna had groaned. "Getting him to eat is going to be a nightmare.") before starting on our own. The type of meat you got was random—I got rabbit, which I was perfectly happy with. They untied my hands for the meal.

"So," I began, "you were a soldier, too, Reyna? I probably wouldn't have guessed that."

She wiped her cheek with her sleeve. "I was a soldier. Now I'm not. I appreciate the combat training now, but as you can see," she gestured at the kneeling soldier, "there are some other pieces of that training you have to get over first before you can even begin to be helpful as a rebel. We'll probably end up spending months just chipping away at the stupid rules they drilled into his head."

I noticed she had shifted the conversation away from herself, and I didn't question it. "How long do you think it'll be before he can act like himself around us?"

"Around me it may only take a few days at the minimum, but for you I would say at least a month. I was a soldier—he knows I'm on the same general level as him. But you're royalty, and he knows if he puts a toe out of line around you, he could be executed for it."

I looked over at him, making that more times that I'd looked over at him than I had looked at some of the members at our table (since when was that guy sitting there?). I wondered what he was thinking about. He had to be hearing our conversation, so maybe he was arguing with us in his head, correcting everything we said wrong about him. I hoped he was thinking something bad about us, because if he fell smoothly into obedience I would be afraid of how difficult it would be to teach him to be himself, and I would be afraid of what his officers must have done to him that made him like that.

"And what was that about a rank tag? What's that?"

Thalia answered this time. "It's just like a license that proves his rank. He apparently lost his by breaking form."

"Well, yeah, but what does that mean? What happens if you lose your tag? You start at the beginning of training or something?"

Thalia swallowed. "No, Prince. He was going to be executed. Probably that battle saved him while it killed everyone else."

I spit out my water. "For breaking form?"

She stared at her plate. "They're strict, Prince. Scarily strict. I can't imagine why Ten-Seventeen broke form then but won't now, but apparently it was not excused."

I bit my lip. "That sounds terrifying."

"I'm sure it was," one of the guys near me said loudly, loud enough so Ten-Seventeen could hear. "But we're going to revolt, and we're going to break all those codes the soldiers have to follow—and we're gonna win this!" He hollered, raising his drink despite the fact that it probably just held water. The others cheered. And the soldier kneeled silently, the newly adopted member of the rebellion.

Word count: 3049