Len closed the door behind them as they left Carolyn's office, the heavy wood clicking shut with finality. The conversation with Rick's grandmother had left a bitter taste in his mouth. Some wounds ran too deep to heal, even with time.

  Oscar hustled over to them in the hallway, his steps quick but measured. He leaned in close. "I wanted to make sure you knew - Mason and Vael's memorial service is tonight."

  Len's chest tightened.

  Rick checked the position of the sun through a nearby window. "It's already late afternoon. We'll need to move fast to get everything organized for tomorrow."

  Len glanced down at their travel-worn clothes, stained with dirt and sweat from the road. They weren't fit for a memorial service. "We're going to need to find some clothes."

  "I don't know about suits but I can get you both uniforms," Oscar offered.

  "Do you know Adrian's sound transmission device number? We're going to have to figure out a better name than that," Rick shook his head.

  "Yeah," Oscar pulled out a small notebook, flipping to a page with neat rows of numbers. "Here's Adrian's sound transmission device number." He handed it over with a finger on the number.

  Rick took it and pulled out his sound transmission device and

  "Where can we get the uniforms from?" Len asked.

  "Supply depot, I'll take you to the camp along the way to where the memorial is being held," Oscar said.

  "Thanks," Len gave him a tight nod.

  His mind rolled through the short memories with Vael and Mason, their professional demeanor, a joke or laugh they'd shared with the others.

  Rick slipped his sound transmission device away and handed Oscar the notebook back. "Thanks."

  "No problem."

  They walked back out into Goran, Oscar leading the way.

  ***

  Len followed Oscar through the depot's entrance, the familiar scent of leather, metal and oil filling his nose. Shelves stretched toward the ceiling, packed with equipment and supplies. Rick's boots clicked against the wooden floor beside him.

  Oscar approached the counter where a thin man scratched numbers into a ledger. "Hey Morris, need two sets of uniforms."

  "Got rucksacks and sound transmission devices?" Rick asked as he pulled out his and injected mana into it.

  "Yes," Morris picked up a measuring tape. "I'll need to take sizes for the uniforms."

  "Sure," Len said.

  "Without armor will be easier," Morris suggested.

  Len took off his steel plate vest and bracers, Rick doing the same, keeping one hand on the sound transmission device.

  "This is Adrian."

  Len pulled off the living armor and the cloak as Morris added a sheet of paper to his clipboard and moved around the counter.

  Len held still as Morris wrapped the measuring tape around his chest. The thin man's movements were precise and practiced.

  "Adrian, we need to put together a convoy," Rick spoke into the sound transmission device. "Looking at heading north to salvage that broken down train near Vordun."

  "Alright, what are you thinking?"

  "Get recommendations from Len's father, Joe and Christina Xinta for engineers who know trains," Len said

  Morris moved down to measure Len's inseam. The measuring tape whispered against the fabric.

  "We'll need builders too," Rick added as Morris jotted down his measurements. "The ones who've been working on the underground train system would be ideal - they know how to lay track and build facilities."

  "Protection too?" Adrian asked.

  "Thinking a squad or two at least," Rick said.

  "How long you figure?" Adrian said.

  Rick looked over to Len and raised and eyebrow. "Say we plan on ten days?" Len said.

  "So we're looking at a convoy," Adrian said.

  "Exactly," Rick said as Morris started measuring him. "We'll need carts for supplies - food, water, building materials."

  "Lot of steel and iron for the tracks and repairs," Len noted. "The builders will need to specify exactly what materials they'll need once we get them together. The Xinta's will have a better idea."

  "When you want to depart?" Adrian asked.

  "Rick and I can head out before first light tomorrow with a few guards and the leaders of the expedition. Get there ahead of everyone else and start organizing things so that when the rest show up they can get started right away," Len said.

  Morris finished his measurements and disappeared into the back room, returning moments later with neatly folded uniforms.

  Len cast cleanse on himself and accepted the pile of material.

  Len pulled on the crisp uniform. "Adrian, has anyone started learning enchanting?"

  "Actually yes," Adrian's voice came through the sound transmission device. "Gretchen's been working with a small group. They've picked up the basics but haven't had much chance to practice."

  They were probably fumbling in the dark, he'd shown people how ot make specific enchantments but hand't gone into how they worked.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  The information from the forgotten library should help but it was all basic still.

  Len straightened his collar, considering the possibilities. Having more enchanters would make everything easier, especially with the amount of work ahead. "Might be worth bringing them along. Give them some hands-on experience with the equipment we'll need to enchant."

  "Could use the help," Rick agreed as he fastened his own uniform. "Better to train them now than wait until we're desperate for enchanted gear."

  "Alright, so I'll organize the convoy, get the Xintas to recommend engineers, pull builders from the underground project, two squads for protection, and grab Gretchen and those that are learning enchanting with her," Adrian summarized. "First group heads out before dawn with you two?"

  "That's right," Len confirmed.

  "Got it. I'll have everything ready." The sound transmission device went silent as Adrian ended the connection.

  Morris returned with two sturdy rucksacks and a sound transmission device. He handed the device to Len.

  Len changed the settings of the sound transmission device and called Rick.

  "Hear me?" Rick said into his device.

  "Loud and clear," Len deactivated the sound transmission device and pocketed it.

  He and Rick quickly packed their discarded armor and gear into the rucksacks.

  "Thanks Morris," Rick said.

  "No problem young master."

  Oscar opened the door to the depot, leading them out. "I can guide you to the memorial."

  "Thanks," Len said, securing his rucksack closed and walking out the door, he used a window to check his reflection.

  His hair had grown wild during their dungeon expeditions, hanging past his ears in uneven tangles. He also had a half beard growing.

  He pulled out his knife, running it over his face, clearing away the stubble, then grabbed his hair and readied himself to start cutting.

  "I'll do your haircut you do mine," Rick said.

  "Sure." Len handed over over knife.

  "You look like you got dragged backwards through a thornbush," Rick muttered.

  "Just don't nick my ears," Len said.

  Rick's blade whispered through Len's hair with practiced movements. Len stayed perfectly still as dark strands fell around his boots. "Your turn next."

  Rick worked quickly, they'd cut one another's hair for decades.

  When Rick finished, Len's hair was down to regulation military length. Len took the knife and returned the favor, carefully trimming Rick's hair.

  "Nice, thank you," Rick said.

  They used cleanse spells to pull away the hairs that had fallen on their uniforms.

  Len checked Rick over and he did the same to him, they adjusted one another's uniforms, a tug here a pull there before they nodded to one another.

  "Alright Oscar, lead on," Len said.

  Somethings just had to be done, it was best to charge into them before you could brace too much for them.

  Len followed Oscar through the camp until they reached a large stone building.

  He could feel the heaviness around the building.

  "Got it from here," He told Oscar.

  Oscar gave them a respectful nod and left them at the entrance.

  Len and Rick walked into the building, rows of seats faced two caskets, each with a rifle planted barrel-down with an Isendia helmet balanced on its stock. The sight hit Len like a physical blow.

  He kept moving, not pausing as his stomach roiled within.

  People talked in hushed whispers, an older woman cried into a kerchief, her sobs breaking out through the chatter at times.

  They reached a row with empty seats and filed through, watching the front.

  People filed in around them, their voices barely above whispers.

  Len spotted Gibson, Lydia and the rest of their unit filling the front rows. His throat tightened as he watched the families - Mason's mother clutching her husband's arm, Vael's sister dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief. An emptiness opened up inside him, vast and cold.

  He knew it all too well, he accepted it.

  A trumpet's clear notes cut through the murmuring crowd, cutting off conversations. Gibson rose and walked to the front, his uniform pristine.

  "Thank you all for coming," Gibson's voice carried clearly through the room "We're here to remember Private Vael and Corporal Mason."

  "Mason kept trying to come up with jokes while we were fighting these massive spiders. Got to the point where everyone in the company was groaning when he started on one of his attempts." Gibson shook his head. "The whole squad had groaned, but somehow they'd all ended up laughing anyway."

  A few wet chuckles rippled through the crowd. Len saw Mason's mother press her face into her husband's shoulder.

  "That was Mason's gift," Gibson said, his voice thick. "He never met a situation so tense he couldn't lighten it with one of his awful jokes."

  Len's chest tightened as Gibson spoke, each word hitting like hammer blows.

  Gibson shifted his attention to Vael's memorial. "Corporal Vael wasn't one for many words, but when he spoke, you listened. He had this way of cutting right to the heart of things. He offered good council to others, supported those around him. That wasn't to say that he didn't get himself into trouble. He had more than one 'genius' idea that he'd somehow work his way out of, cause you knew that he wasn't doing it to be malicious, just to try it out." Gibson drew in a heavy breath. They were good men and I am lucky to have worked alongside them. I'd like to invite Mason's childhood friend Otto, and Vael's friend Edmond to speak."

  Len watched as Otto stumbled to the front, his hands shaking as he gripped a folded piece of paper. The young man's shoulders trembled as he tried to compose himself.

  "Mason and I..." Otto's voice cracked. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Mason and I grew up next door to each other." He unfolded the paper with unsteady fingers. "We used to climb the big oak tree at the farm his mother and mine worked at in the summers. He'd always..." Otto's words dissolved into a choked sob.

  Gibson stepped forward, placing a steadying hand on Otto's shoulder. Otto nodded gratefully and drew in a shuddering breath.

  "He'd always say he could see all the way to the capital from up there." Otto wiped his eyes. "Even when we both knew better, he'd insist. That was Mason - always trying to make everything bigger, brighter."

  Len's throat constricted as Otto struggled through the rest of his speech, each halting word a reminder of the cost of their mission. When Otto finally returned to his seat, Edmond rose and made his way to the front.

  "Vael was one of the quietest hard bastards I met," Edmond's voice was steady but thick with emotion. "Twenty kilometer march, middle of summer. I collapsed from heat exhaustion. If I didn't finish it I wouldn't pass." Edmond pressed his lips together, choking down the emotions.

  "He took my pack and gave me his canteen. Told me 'come on, need you next to me so I have at least some chance with the girls. Everyone here's too damn good looking'." Edmond chuckled. "You should have seen him, grimacing and one hand on his hip like he hadn't just done seventeen miles." Edmond cleared his throat. "Best damn battle buddy I had." His voice strained out the words.

  "I hope you get a few dances with the girls wherever you go."

  Several soldiers turned away, fighting back tears. Len kept his eyes forward, though his vision blurred.

  Edmond made it to his chair once more.

  "Atten-chun!" All of the military personnel stood.

  Gibson held up his board holding roll call. "Dorn!"

  "Here!"

  Gibson called out each name in the unit, received each "Here!" in response. Then:

  "Mason!"

  Silence.

  "Corporal Mason!"

  The silence grew heavier.

  "Corporal Mason, First Company, Third Squad!"

  Eyes started blinking, Gibson's voice came gruff.

  "Vael!"

  A choked sob threatened to break Len.

  "Private Vael!"

  Part of the mind wanted to run in shamefaced. He was there. Len's eyes feel to the caskets.

  "Private Vael, First Company, Third Squad!"

  Around Len, soldiers fought to maintain composure, blinking rapidly. The trumpet's mournful notes filled the air.

  Len drew a shaky breath. They had been so young, with so much ahead of them. But death walked close beside every soldier - he knew that truth in his bones.

  He just hoped that this life there would be less memorials to attend.