《Foxhole: An Omegaverse Tale》


 Humble Beginnings

    Lukas Braddock looked down at his hands as the wagon swayed. They didn¡¯t look any different than they had a week ago.Calloused from hauling water and pitching hay, cracked thick nails that always were dirty no matter how hard he scrubbed them. His skin was as deep and dark as the old leather harnesses on the mules. They were the same hands, so why was everything so different now?


    He remembered a sudden dangerous heat burning in his chest and lower in his groin. The overwhelming urge to find someone he¡¯d never met, someone who would fill the awful howling, hungry void churning within his gut. His three little sisters stared at him with wide green eyes as he began panting and writhing in confusion at the dinner table.


    His terrified parents locked him in the barn. Once the hot delirium cleared from his brain the sad old village sawbones told him the awful truth. Alpha. He was a pitiful, broken thing now. A film of terror still coated the inside of his mouth and threatened to flare up whenever the tip of his tongue caught the new keen edges on his canine teeth. He was an Alpha and to protect everyone that he loved he had to immediately report to the recruitment center in town. The government knew how to deal with his kind.


    ¡°We¡¯ll be in town in an hour or so. You can see the red roof of the church from here.¡± His father didn¡¯t need to tell him that. Nothing had changed in town since before Lukas was born. The red roof of the church was a constant thing, just like the sun rising in the east. His father spoke to him in the same soothing voice he used for his nervous horses and Lukas hated that it worked just as well upon him.


    ¡°Lukas, my boy, I know this is difficult for you. But we have to do this. It¡¯s the law. And the law says that all Alphas have to report to mandatory military service within a week of their first rut.¡± It felt like his father was trying to convince himself, rather than calm his nervous only son. ¡°There¡¯s nothing we can do about it.¡± The reins jingled in his hands.


    ¡°Yes, I know Da. I just never pictured myself as a soldier.¡± He¡¯d never really thought about his future to be honest; time was an endless flow of chores punctuated by meals under the wide blue-grey sky. ¡°I guess I thought I¡¯d meet a girl at the harvest fair, have a family and help out on the farm. Like you did. Like grandfather did. Like everyone does.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t have to change. It might just take a little longer now.¡± His father sighed. ¡°Your mother and I are Betas. We knew there was a chance that you¡¯d turn out this way, but you¡¯re still a part of our family. When you are done with your service, you should come back home. There¡¯s always a place for you there.¡± One of the mules tossed their head and his father cooed and tongue-clicked at the stubborn beast. ¡°Now, now Mildred, stop that.¡±


    Lukas let out a breath that he wasn¡¯t aware that he was holding and unclenched his fists. He wiped at the corners of his eyes with the back of his hand. ¡°Thanks Da. I¡¯ll do that. Someone has to help put up the summer hay.¡± It was a little easier to look to the future now that he had a place to return to.


    His prayers for mercy seemed impotent and empty. What sort of goddess would let one of her children endure this suffering? He¡¯d had his doubts about the All-Mother before but he¡¯d kept them to himself. Better to blend in than stand out. Ha. Lukas sighed. Fat chance of blending in now.


    The clopping of the mules¡¯ hooves was the only sound as distant hazy buildings on the horizon slowly sharpened into focus. A warm breeze ruffled Lukas¡¯ short choppy black hair. He inhaled and held a deep breath, rolling the scent around in his nose. His sense of smell was acutely heightened now. All the better to find an Omega to mate with. The doctor had given him a basic primer on Alpha biology. Rut. Mating. Something called knotting that made him blush to think about. His hands were the same but his cock and teeth weren¡¯t.


    He didn¡¯t know what most of the words the doctor told him had meant, but that was his fault for being so stupid and rut-addled. School wasn¡¯t something that would fix him either, you couldn¡¯t make a racehorse out of a mule. The army would probably teach him everything he needed to know. All he had to do was follow orders. He could do that.


    ¡°Da, I¡¯m sorry.¡± Lukas said softly and his father shrugged with one shoulder. This wasn¡¯t anything that an apology could fix. ¡°I¡¯ll be back. Maybe I¡¯ll bring home a war-bride, someone exotic and blonde with blue eyes, big hips and a big chest like those dancers at the harvest fair.¡±


    ¡°Be sure that you do. I¡¯d love to see you happy with family of your own. Be sure to find a gal who has enough brains for both of you.¡± Lukas¡¯ father reached back and ruffled his hair. ¡°Come back to us, my boy.¡± Lukas turned to look at the land behind them so he wouldn¡¯t have to remember the sight of his father crying.


    Wide fertile floodplains green with promise stretched out behind them, misty blue mountains in the distance. Hawks circled lazily in the sky, crying out. Dots of cattle and sheep speckled the green. Lukas swallowed hard as the wagon lurched from side to side. This was worth protecting from any enemy especially the godless heathens of the Federation.


    He¡¯d do anything to protect those that he loved.


    It was never good news from the front; they wouldn¡¯t waste a telegram on something pleasant. Major Simon du Trop rubbed his temples as he read the latest telegram from command. It said the same thing as last time. They needed new soldiers, fresh meat for the grinder.


    Stop that, he admonished himself. There was no point in being cynical. He had to trust that High Command was doing everything they could to bring the war to an end.


    The Endless War was what everyone called it under their breath. Babies born at the beginning of the conflict with the Federation were retiring from military service now. Close to fifty years of conflict, with no end in sight.


    The continent was split down the middle by the Midford River, a natural boundary that prevented either side from advancing decisively. Simon looked at the hand-drawn map on the wall of the recruitment center for the thousandth time. At the narrowest point of the river was naturally where the fighting was the thickest. Everyone wanted control of the massive Midford Bridge for themselves. That¡¯s where he was going after processing this last recruit.


    He glanced at the clock on the table that served as his desk. Farmers only paid attention to sunrise and sunset, he rapped his fingers on the wood impatient to leave. Every squad leader had to take two weeks off to man a recruitment center. It was supposed to be a reward for good service, but Simon hated it. It felt like a waste of time, time that he could be using to train his squad. Especially in this flea-speck of a town where the highlight of the week was the mail delivery after Sunday services. Every button on his dress uniform gleamed, his rifle was smooth and primed for action and his satchel packed for travel. All he could do was wait for the last recruit to show up.


    An Alpha, of course. Newly presented, wet behind the ears with rut. He didn¡¯t enjoy taking only sons away from their fathers, especially in hamlets as small as this one. Family was important. Even though he¡¯d never had a family outside of the nuns at the orphanage, he understood that simple truth. It was probably why he tried to take such care of his personal squad.


    Each of the Alphas under his command were a part of his own little family. It was his moral imperative to keep them alive and fighting the Feds for as long as possible. It was his job to make them survive to return home to these quaint little villages where no one feared invasion or destruction.


    Where High Command saw an asset, he saw a person. Someone with hopes and dreams for their beautiful nation. That was worth fighting for. Leading by example was the best he could do since he wasn¡¯t high enough in the chain of command to change tactics or policy. Yet. There was still time.


    He was young, not quite twenty-five, still in the prime of his life and eventually he¡¯d be recognized as a superior soldier. He didn¡¯t have any other skills. He couldn¡¯t mention in polite company that he was rather efficient at killing people. It was harder to keep folks alive and eventually that would be what he¡¯d be renown for. Simon leaned back in his chair and looked at the ceiling rafters and dangling supply bags. Someone had hung a bundle of fragrant lavender to dry; it made the inside of his nose itch.


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    A knock on the door. Simon schooled his face into a confident smile, an expression that radiated optimistic competence. He believed as fervently in the Holy Empire¡¯s cause as he had when he first enlisted. The blood spilled, the lives lost¡ª it had to mean something for the greater good¡ª otherwise... That was a thought for another time, perhaps a morose night spent with the company of a glass of brandy.


    Simon opened the door. A farmer in his best town clothes stood at the threshold, but Simon¡¯s gaze was drawn to the dark-skinned young man at his side. Broad shouldered, almost as tall as Simon himself and thick with muscles from hard daily physical labor. His figure was striking but his face was arresting.


    Those eyes. Eyes as green as the endless plains surrounding them. Eyes you could lose yourself in. All the girls must be pining for this lad. And a fair amount of the boys.


    He couldn¡¯t be an Alpha. He was too lovely, a face that wouldn¡¯t be out of place on a theater marquee. He was going to be trouble at base camp. Simon blinked as his mask of confidence faltered for a moment and then he recovered with a cough. ¡°Pardon me. I am Major Simon du Trop. What brings you to the Holy Empire¡¯s recruitment center?¡± A formality wrapped in politeness, there was only one reason these two would be on the recruitment center threshold.


    ¡°My son. My only son, Lukas. He¡¯s an Alpha¡ª¡° The farmer¡¯s voice faltered.


    The young man put his hand on his father¡¯s shoulder and squeezed reassuringly. The farmer¡¯s head dipped down and he pressed his own hand upon his son¡¯s. ¡°I am Lukas Braddock. I¡¯m here to report for my mandatory service. I presented as an Alpha six days ago.¡±


    And yet your sweet voice still sounds like a choir boy¡¯s. Yes, this lad was indeed going to be a tremendous pain in Major Simon du Trop¡¯s ass. ¡°As a representative of the Holy Empire¡¯s Army, I accept your enlistment and welcome you to my unit.¡± Simon held out his hand and the young man hesitated before taking it.


    A symbolic handshake, that¡¯s all it was. There was no need for Simon¡¯s heart to lurch in his chest. Lukas¡¯ eyelashes cast shadows upon his cheeks, fringes of dense, long lashes. Stop being an idiot. You¡¯ve seen thousands of pretty faces. Simon chided himself as the handshake lasted longer than it should. You¡¯re acting like a school boy with a crush. He dropped the handshake, rubbed the back of his neck and smiled to cover up his sudden nerves.


    ¡°Well there¡¯s some paperwork to fill out and then we will catch the next train to base tomorrow morning. Welcome to my unit. It is not going to be an easy life for you. Remember that if you devote yourself to the service of your country, then you will find your way lit even in the darkest places.¡± Simon directed his attention to Lukas¡¯ father. ¡°I will do my best to make sure your son returns to you. I swear this upon the All-Mother herself.¡±


    ¡°May I have a moment with my Da?¡± Lukas asked, a telltale glimmer of tears dotting the corners of those green eyes.


    ¡°Of course. Take as long as you need and join me inside when you are done.¡± Simon shut the door behind him. This was the worst part of recruitment. He felt as if he were stealing away the young Alphas¡¯ potential as well as their bodies.


    He didn¡¯t believe that Alphas were inherently savage creatures, his years of experience spoke to the contrary. They were the same as Betas, for the most part. The few that survived military service usually had quiet lives afterwards, content to put the horrors of the battlefield behind them. Of course their rut periods were messy and inconvenient, but as long as there was the comfort tent then that was easily remedied.


    The door opened after a while and Lukas entered the one room shed that served as the recruitment center. His lovely eyes were rimmed with red and he wiped his nose with a handkerchief embroidered with his initials, a gift for a sudden departure. ¡°I didn¡¯t bring anything, like the pamphlet told me to, but my Ma wanted me to have this.¡± He held up a bundle of food, sniffled and then coughed. ¡°I guess soldiers aren¡¯t supposed to cry.¡±


    ¡°You haven¡¯t signed any paperwork yet. Cry all you need to.¡± Simon poked the ashes in the potbelly stove and added kindling. ¡°Care for a cup of something warm?¡±


    Lukas nodded and set the bundle upon the table that served as Simon¡¯s kitchen and desk. Simon set the kettle on the stove and turned around to a farmer¡¯s feast. Fresh crusty brown bread studded with dates and nuts, butter pats shaped like leaping fish, cured meats rippling with white fat, soft mild cheese and fruit right from the trees. He started drooling involuntarily and swallowed it back, trying to retain what was left of his dignity.


    ¡°It¡¯s not much, but would you like to share it with me?¡± Lukas asked, meek and unsure. ¡°Sir! Sorry, I forgot to say that. My Da reminded me to say that.¡±


    ¡°Again, you haven¡¯t signed the paperwork or gotten your tattoo. For now, you¡¯re fine leaving the Sir off. I would be honored to share your bounty. Is all of this from your family farm?¡±


    ¡°Most of it. My sister, Rachel, made the butter, she always uses the fish mold because it takes the most skill to get all the scales to show up and she likes to brag about that. Lizzy helps Ma with the bread. Becca climbs the fruit trees to get the best pears before they fall and bruise.¡± Lukas beamed with pride at his family¡¯s accomplishments. ¡°I shot the deer for the sausage and the neighbor helped me cure it. Da made the cheese. He¡¯s the only one that can stop Daisy from kicking over the milk bucket¡ª¡° He paused and the light dwindled from his face. ¡°Sorry. You probably don¡¯t want to hear about that farm stuff.¡±


    ¡°On the contrary, I very much enjoy hearing where my food comes from. It helps me appreciate all the hard work it takes to fill my belly.¡± Simon shook tea leaves into the diffuser. ¡°The nuns made us pray to the All-Mother for every meal but also say thank you to Sister Rosalie for doing all the actual hard work.¡±


    ¡°Nuns?¡± Lukas asked as he sliced the meat with his belt knife.


    ¡°Well yes. That¡¯s where I grew up. That¡¯s where my last name comes from. The full name is the Empirical Orphanage du Trop. That¡¯s where the unwanted children from comfort omegas end up as wards of the Empire.¡± Simon poured hot water over the tea. ¡°I¡¯m quite literally a bastard. Here you go, it¡¯s not the best tea but it beats plain hot water.¡±


    Lukas took the crude ceramic mug from Simon. ¡°Do you tell everyone you meet that you¡¯re a bastard?¡±


    Simon sat down on the bench across from Lukas and muttered a perfunctory prayer before taking out his own belt-knife, smearing a hunk of bread with soft cheese. ¡°Most people would know from my last name, it¡¯s the same as the orphanage. It¡¯s better to get it out of the way before you hear all the ¡®that blonde bastard¡¯ jokes at base camp. Oh this is really good. You can taste the sunshine and the happy cows.¡± Simon licked at his fingers and Lukas looked away quickly, a flush upon his cheeks. ¡°It¡¯s nothing to be embarrassed about. Half my recruits come from the countryside. That¡¯s where people have big families. More kids mean more chances that Alphas and Omegas will pop up. It¡¯s just math. Can I have some of that pear?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s been a while since you¡¯ve had good food, hasn¡¯t it?¡± Lukas asked as he slathered butter upon a hunk of bread.


    ¡°The only thing the Holy Army lacks is anyone who can cook. Rations fill your belly and are better forgotten. This is a real treat, thank you for sharing it with me.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re going to be my commanding officer. It might be a good thing to be in your favor.¡± Lukas hazarded a sheepish smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. Definitely trouble.


    ¡°Oh you don¡¯t have to bribe me with food. I mean, don¡¯t stop trying, this is amazing, but it¡¯s my job to make you into an excellent soldier. To give you something to believe in, something to fight for.¡± Simon popped a slice of sausage into his mouth. ¡°Do you have a sweetheart waiting for you?¡±


    Lukas stammered and ducked his head as his cheeks blazed red. Cute. Real goddamned cute. ¡°No- no- I don¡¯t. Girls don¡¯t really pay any attention to me.¡±


    ¡°Really? Are all the girls of marriageable age around here blind or stupid? Maybe both?¡± Simon raised his eyebrows.


    ¡°Stop making fun of me.¡± Lukas squirmed on the bench. ¡°I guess they could smell the Alpha on me. It makes more sense to chase after the Betas because they inherit first and they all want their own farms to rule over. There weren¡¯t any Omega girls my age.¡±


    ¡°What about Omega boys?¡± Simon asked as the fire snapped in the potbelly stove.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t think that they really existed.¡± Lukas sighed. ¡°I¡¯m sure they wouldn¡¯t look my way either. Why are you asking?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re going to be living in close quarters with both Alpha and Beta men, like myself. It is a given that occasionally you will go into rut and the quickest way to end a rut is to spend the night with one of the army¡¯s comfort Omegas. They¡¯re all male. War is no place for a woman.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand.¡± Lukas admitted and he ran his hand through his jet black hair. ¡°Because I¡¯m an Alpha, I¡¯m pretty stupid.¡± Simon felt the sudden white-hot urge to backhand the person who had told Lukas that.


    ¡°You¡¯re not stupid. You¡¯re new to all of this. That¡¯s not a sin. You¡¯re young, rural and inexperienced. Making fun of you for those facts isn¡¯t helpful or of any benefit to the Empire.¡± Simon tapped on the table to emphasize his point. ¡°Your secondary gender doesn¡¯t define you as a person. No matter what you¡¯ve heard, Alphas are no less than Betas or Omegas. In my eyes, at least. And I¡¯m your commanding officer so you have to listen to what I say. That makes it easy.¡±


    ¡°So I just have to believe in you?¡± Lukas asked, his face so open with innocence and hope that Simon had to crush the urge to embrace him.


    ¡°If that makes it easier for you, then sure.¡± Oh don¡¯t give me that power over you, lad. I¡¯m not strong enough to avoid the temptation. ¡°Like I said, you need something to fight for, something to believe in to survive this.¡± Lukas nodded with fierce determination. ¡°It¡¯s getting dark out there. After we finish this extraordinary spread of food, we should call it a night. As thanks you can have the bunk and I¡¯ll put my bedroll on the floor.¡±


    ¡°Oh I can¡¯t have you do that! I can¡¯t take your bed.¡±


    Simon laughed. ¡°I¡¯m not the angel that you seem to think I am. After you spend a night on that lumpy bunk, you¡¯ll wish that you¡¯d slept on the floor too.¡±

 Barracks Lessions

    Staring up into the rafters, Lukas regretted sleeping in the bunk, but not for the reason that Simon thought. The lumpy mattress and bedding smelled amazing. He turned his head and snuffled into the pillow. Like honey and that special Winter Solstice bread mixed with sunshine and musky salt. Light from the full moon poured in through the thick, wavy bubbled glass windows of the recruitment center. He glanced down at Simon, asleep on his bedroll.


    Was this what Simon¡¯s hair smelled like? The army must have wonderful soap. If the pillow smelled this good, what would the man himself smell like? The thought threatened to bubble up and overwhelm him. How would his skin taste under my tongue? Lukas swallowed back a sudden mouthful of drool and rolled over to face the wall out of guilt.


    It wasn¡¯t like he was a complete innocent when it came to sex. You couldn¡¯t ignore the mating games on the farm and his Da had made sure to tell him the gist of the process. He''d had fumblings behind the woodshed with one of the harvest hired hands, a Beta man with a crooked nose and bad breath and a Beta lady prostitute at the Harvest Fair. He¡¯d just never considered that the blonde-haired, blue eyed angel of his dreams might have a cock instead of breasts. It was surprising how little that mattered to his own cock.


    Simon, Major Simon du Trop. What would the Major be hiding beneath his breeches? Lukas peeked over his shoulder at the man. He was tall, taller than himself, broad-shouldered and well-muscled. He looked like one of the fairytale princes from his sisters¡¯ precious picture book.


    How shameful of him to fantasize about the Major in that way. The man had only shown him the utmost polite kindness and he was returning that kindness by rutting around like a feral beast. He wasn''t going to stop though, he couldn''t. His new alien nature wouldn''t let him simmer down until he spilled. No wonder Alphas couldn''t be trusted to do anything worthwhile in society when a pretty face and a sweet scent could take over his mind so completely.


    Intoxicating scent heavy in his nose, Lukas reached below and popped open the buttons on his breeches. He was half-hard. Forgive me, he prayed, not expecting absolution for this transgression. It wasn¡¯t as if he¡¯d signed the paperwork yet. He didn¡¯t have an identification number tattooed into the skin below his clavicle. He wasn¡¯t a soldier yet, he was still a stupid naive farm boy who couldn¡¯t control his newly awakened urges. His frantic excuses andjustifications rang tinny and hollow.


    Even if Lukas were a Beta, he still would have made mooning calf eyes at the beautiful man sleeping on the floor beside him. From the moment their eyes had met there was an attraction, Simon¡¯s wise, kind words had fueled that flickering spark of attraction into something that smoldered hotter, more dangerous. Lukas pressed the tatty pillow against his face and huffed the marvelous scent as he stroked his shaft. It was sinful how quickly he swelled. I must be quiet, I must be quiet.


    Lukas turned his head to steal a glance at Simon. He would never know; he could never know. Why would someone so glorious spare a thought for him? The thought of Simon ordering him to his knees sprang forth in his mind. It made his cock throb, the new thickness at the base sensitive and swollen. Slick juices drooled from the tip of his cock, squelching with each indulgent stroke. The pleasure mingled with his shame in a heady, addictive mix. This new jolt to his libido had to be because he was an Alpha now. There was no other excuse for the lasciviousness of his behavior. Perhaps he would even need to be punished for his filthy, filthy actions.


    He sank his teeth into the pillow. Simon¡¯s scent lay heavy and ripe in his nose, curled around his tongue and he gasped in spite of himself. Blue eyes flew open at the sound and Lukas stilled his hand in vain for there was no mistaking what he was doing. Lukas¡¯ cock twitched in his hand, the pillow still crammed in his mouth. Oh shit.


    ¡°Let me give you your first lesson in barracks¡¯ etiquette, lad.¡± Simon spoke in a low conversational tone as he rolled over to face Lukas. ¡°If you¡¯re caught jacking off and you maintain eye contact, that¡¯s considered an invitation for the other party to join in.¡± That wasn''t the reaction Lukas was expecting.


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    Lukas spat out the pillow and swallowed back a mouthful of drool. ¡°Really?¡±


    ¡°Yep.¡± Simon watched him from his bedroll, his hands folded neatly on his chest. ¡°And depending on who catches your eyes, you might regret it.¡± Moonlight glazed his sharp cheekbones and glittered in his eyes. ¡°You need to be careful.¡±


    ¡°I need to be¡ª careful.¡± Lukas repeated as he rolled over to face his commanding officer. An electric thrill zinged up his spine as he quite deliberately did not break eye contact.


    Simon''s laced fingers tightened upon his chest. ¡°Indeed. Very careful. You¡¯re a lovely lad, you won¡¯t lack for bed partners.¡± Simon sighed. "That''s going to be a problem."


    ¡°You¡¯re joking¡ª¡° Lukas began, but Simon cut him off with a click of his tongue.


    ¡°I am not. Do not doubt my words, my boy.¡± My boy, now that was a phrase that Lukas craved to hear again.


    ¡°I will not, sir.¡± The premature title seemed appropriate for the moment as Simon held and huffed out a heavy breath in response.


    ¡°Your blood must be still running hot from the rut.¡± Simon broke their gaze and pointedly looked at the rafters.


    ¡°No¡ª¡° Lukas gritted out as he stroked himself with slick fingers. He was as wet as a girl. ¡°It¡ª it was the smell. The scent of the pillow. Your smell. I''m sorry--¡± He felt his cheeks burn with shame and excitement. ¡°I couldn¡¯t help myself¡ª you smell so good.¡± The yearning in his voice was disgustingly thick.


    Simon¡¯s jaw fell open and he quickly recovered, running his fingers through his hair. ¡°All-Mother''s tits. You¡¯re going to be trouble for me, lad.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be good for you.¡± Lukas squeezed the base of his cock, the air was turgid with potential and it wouldn¡¯t do to spill prematurely. ¡°All I have to do is follow orders, right? That¡¯s what a good soldier does, he follows the orders that his commander gives him.¡± He threw back the blanket, displaying his shame to the crisp night air. ¡°I¡¯ll follow any orders you give me, sir.¡±


    Simon saw everything, no matter how hard he was pretending not to notice. He threw his arm over his eyes and cursed at length under his breath in a language that Lukas didn¡¯t know. Even a simple farm boy knew what the lump in the Major¡¯s breeches meant.


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand what you''re saying. Please teach me, sir.¡± Lukas swung his legs off the bunk and lewdly displayed himself. "Tell me what to do Major du Trop."


    "Go back to sleep." Simon gritted out from between his teeth. "Just go back to sleep."


    "Can''t sleep, too hot." Lukas panted as his fist made obscenely loud, squishing sounds that echoed in the recruitment hall. He was too far gone to turn back, teetering on the edge of something both wonderful and terrifying. "Tell me what to do, sir--"


    Simon slapped the floor with his hand, gunshot loud in the midnight quiet. "You test me, boy. You push me too far!"


    Lukas said nothing, he let the sounds of his busy fingers and thrusting hips speak for him. Simon lurched to his feet and loomed over Lukas, bracketing the seated young man with his thighs. Lukas fell back and Simon leaned over, putting his hands on the bunk on both sides of Lukas''s head. Simon''s body and scent surrounded Lukas, enveloped him in the dark."I cannot touch you, lad. Fraternization between officers and recruits is not allowed." Lukas whimpered at his words, his erection now painfully tight as those blue eyes drilled into his own. "So you are going do exactly what I tell you to do. Do you understand?"


    I would do anything you asked, for you and only you. Lukas nodded mutely, the words lost in his mouth beneath his clumsy tongue.


    Hot breath on his skin as the tip of Simon''s nose grazed the hollow beneath his ear. ¡°You¡¯re a good boy, aren¡¯t you Lukas? You¡¯re such a beautiful, good boy. You¡¯re something very special and you¡¯re going to follow my orders.¡± Simon''s voice rumbled praises directly to his brain and shook Lukas to his very core. He was an Alpha, the lowest of the low on the social hierarchy, but if Simon was praising him then it had to be true. "I order you to cum for me, Lukas." There was no defying that order. Lukas pressed on his cock, directing the spray away from his commander''s spotless uniform. His seed spurted and spilled upon the rough wooden floor.


    When Lukas opened his eyes he was shocked to see how soft his commander''s eyes were, gleaming in the moonlit darkness above him, his face a hairsbreadth from his own.Simon shook his head, sighed and stood up. He poured water into a basin from the ewer and dunked a rag in it. He knelt down and daubed Lukas clean, then wiped up the puddles of semen on the floor. Lukas would have been embarrassed at the sheer magnitude of his emissions, but he was spent. "Thank you." He muttered as he curled into sleep upon the bunk.


    "A good officer takes care of his men." Simon said, his voice husky and raw in the darkness. "Sleep now." It was another order that was blissfully easy to follow. Lukas thought he felt fingers carding through his hair, but that had to be a dream.

 Conflicting Emotions

    ¡°A good officer does not do that to his men.¡± Simon told the uncaring stars as he sat on a bench behind the recruitment center. He shucked his uniform coat and let the crisp night air dry out his sweat-soaked undershirt. He pressed his woolen coat against his nose. He couldn¡¯t smell anything sweet or savory or out of the ordinary. Certainly nothing that would drive a young man mad with lust post-rut. His squad was full of young Alphas and none of them had ever sniffed in his direction.


    He could hear Lukas¡¯ satisfied snores mixed with cricket chirps. He had the urge to crawl into that bunk and show the new recruit everything he¡¯d learned about bed sports. That¡¯s a bad idea. A very, very bad idea. I can¡¯t do that to a subordinate. What was I thinking?


    The honest answer was that in that moment he was not thinking in the slightest. The only thing that had mattered in that moment was the writhing young man bracketed between his arms, his face lit up by pleasure. Pleasure that Simon had ordered him to feel. ¡°Fuck.¡± Simon cursed under his breath. He¡¯d already chafed his cock jerking off twice behind the outhouse and the memory of half-lidded lust glazed green eyes was prompting another session. ¡°Fucking hell.¡±


    He was the lowest of the low. A rat. Vermin. What was wrong with him? To do that obscene act to one of his own men, a raw new recruit at that?


    Be honest. You¡¯d do it again. He stood up and faced the man-shaped chalk outline on the side of the latrine and took out his throwing knives. He thought better when he was practicing. Slivers of silvered steel whipped through the air with ease, lodging in the target and hummed with vibration.


    All he had to do was acknowledge that it happened and that it would not happen again. He was human and all humans, regardless of their secondary gender designation, made mistakes. Especially when tempted by a sight like that after weeks of self-imposed celibacy, it was only natural.


    Who could turn down Lukas when he begged so prettily? The stone-faced All-Mother herself would be moved. He was going to be trouble. Simon frowned. So much trouble. Off the top of his head he could think of at least a dozen, maybe more predatory men back at base camp who would take ruthless advantage of Lukas¡¯ farm-fresh naivety.


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    A thought of Lukas kneeling in front of him, his mouth open and welcoming, staring up at his commanding officer made Simon suck in his breath. His next throw went wide and Simon had to search for his errant knife in the underbrush. Trouble was an understatement.


    It was the middle of a war. He couldn¡¯t be fixated on one young recruit. It was always the middle of the Endless War, he thought as that excuse rang hollow. Beta officers were allowed mates but not within the enlisted men, not within the Alphas. It could ruin his chances for promotion if they were discovered, not to mention tattering his carefully curated image at base camp. He had to walk away and treat this incident as a one time failure of his moral compass. He sheathed his knives and brushed dirt from his knees.


    Like hell he was going to do that. Montgomery could just move his bunk to the other side of the tent and Lukas would slot just fine next to Simon¡¯s bunk. Lukas was his new porter, assistant and social secretary. Did Lukas know how to read and write? It might raise some eyebrows for a bit but after the last offensive at Midford Bridge there was room to spread out. He had the discretion to make personnel assignments and it was time he used it.


    As long as he kept Lukas within earshot and line of sight, there wouldn¡¯t be a problem with the other men. He was bigger and stronger than the other Betas and as much as they resented him for it, they also respected his abilities. Respected? His lips drew back in a tight smile. No, they feared him and for good reason.


    Simon checked the clasp on the wide leather cuff he wore beneath his undershirt. There was a length of garrote wire wound under the leather, instantly accessible by pulling a metal ring. The leather matched the holster for his throwing knives and the scabbards for his dress saber and boot knives. Guns were finicky, temperamental creatures that could jam, break or backfire at a crucial moment. Blades were a more civilized, stable weapon, the silvering made them immune to curses and there was no one at base camp better at using them than he was. Even the mages gave him a wide berth, treading lightly around his squad.


    He returned to the recruitment center and his oddly cold bedroll. Simon regarded Lukas as he sprawled on the bunk, loose-limbed with relaxation and satisfaction.


    Simon flung his arm over his eyes and muttered the string of unintelligible foreign curses that Sister Rosalie would spew when the milk curdled in the butter churn. After parroting the propaganda of the War Ministry for decades, he had finally found something that he wanted to protect, something to fight for. No, it was nothing that noble. Lukas was someone that he wanted to keep for himself.

 Leaving the Station

    It was the first time Lukas had seen a military transport train. His mouth fell open, agog at the extravagant splendor that pulled up in a cloud of smoke and steam on the tracks in front of them. Swirls of silver curled and hugged the black iron body of the locomotive. The train cars were decorated with bolted on silver insignia and stripes running the length of the cars. Sunlight glittered and reflected into his eyes as he stared awestruck at their transportation.


    Simon tapped his shoulder to nudge him forward, breaking the dazzling spell. "Sorry," he apologized, sheepish. "It''s so pretty."


    Simon shrugged as he opened the doors. "I suppose. When I look at it all I see is how much work it takes to keep everything polished." Simon adjusted his rucksack as they stepped aboard; they were only passengers at the station aside from twenty bushels of cabbages loaded into the cargo car. He''d always been outnumbered by cabbages in this town.


    "There''s silver decorations at the church in town, but nothing like this." The passenger car was empty aside from themselves and Simon chose their seats. They sat across from each other, Simon sitting with his back against the wall, watching the entrance. Their knees touched when the train lurched on the tracks. They were both tall and long-legged, contact was both unavoidable and welcome. Simon put his foot up on the side of Lukas¡¯ seat next to his thigh, casually bracketing him against the side of the train car. Lukas averted his eyes from his commanding officer¡¯s crotch and the amused smirk playing upon his lips. He couldn¡¯t get hard from so little stimulation in the middle of the day. That was shameless. Lukas said the first thing he thought of just to distract himself from the long, strong limbs sprawled in front of him, "Silver is the All-Mother''s blessed metal, moon metal."


    "It''s nothing as holy as that with the military." Simon rolled his shoulders back and yawned, a hint of fatigue shadowing underneath his eyes. Lukas blushed hot as he remembered for the hundredth time that morning what had kept Simon from sleeping last night. "So, you don''t know why there''s silver all over this train?"


    Lukas shook his head. "No. I''m stu--" he bit back the automatic self-deprecation. "I''m new to this." His cheeks grew hotter as Simon smiled at him.


    "That''s a good lad. You are new. You''re new to all of this and you are far from stupid." Simon dug inside his uniform coat and pulled out a small notebook and pencil. He wrote something down and handed it to Lukas.


    "Can you read this?" Lukas read aloud and was gratified when Simon''s smile pulled into a grin. "Yes I can, sir. Why?"


    "Well, Lukas my lad, you''re going to be my personal secretary and porter. Speeds thing up quite a bit if you already know how to read." He took back the notebook and tucked it away. ¡°Unless it involves blades, I¡¯m a pretty shitty teacher. Reading lessons with me might have taken most of the Endless War.¡±


    Lukas thought about spending time with Simon by candlelight and wished for a moment that his mother hadn¡¯t been so devoted to teaching her children to read from the Holy Books. "I don¡¯t know all of the words, though. You were going to teach me how to read?"


    "Of course." Simon looked out the window at the endless farmlands and fields of pasture, a wrinkle in his brow. ¡°I have to train all my recruits for their roles. If you falter or fail, then that¡¯s my fault as an instructor.¡±


    There was a weary sadness, an edge to his voice, something that rasped Lukas raw. Simon had been at war for far too long without respite. How many recruits had died in front of this man? Too many, Lukas knew. The Endless War devoured and spat out young men like them. There was no guarantee that either of them would survive the next battle, and that uncertainty made him reckless.


    Lukas let his legs fall open and tapped the side of his boot on the floor against Simon¡¯s. Simon looked back at him and Lukas lowered his chin, looking up at Simon through his lashes. "Do you teach all your Alphas how to read?" He bit his lower lip for a moment, holding Simon¡¯s steely blue gaze. "Or am I special?"


    Simon tapped his boot back against Lukas¡¯ and sighed. "Oh I think you know the answer to that my lad."


    Do I? Lukas thought and then breathed out, "I''m new. Please teach me." It was both a challenge and an invitation.


    Simon barked out a laugh. "You keep pushing my boundaries like that and you''ll find yourself on latrine duty." He leaned forward and flicked the end of Lukas¡¯ nose with the tip of his finger. "You await my orders. You don''t get to initiate things like you did last night. You don''t rank high enough yet."


    Lukas rubbed the tip of his nose and mischievously asked, "So if I get promoted to Sergeant then can I order you around?" The smile he got in response was worth more than all the silver on the train.


    "For now listen well because there might be a test later. You want to do well for me, don¡¯t you?"


    "Sir, yes sir!" Lukas sat up straight, all seductive pretenses cast aside.


    "Back to the decoration on the train, it''s not meant to be pretty. It''s not meant to be a show of wealth or power. I mean, of course it is exactly that, but it has a practical purpose as well. Silver repels magic." Simon rubbed his fingers together as he sat back, both feet on the floor."Like oiled leather in a rain shower."


    Lukas leaned forward, he felt like a stupid country Alpha again. "Magic?" He¡¯d heard rumors about magic in the big cities and read tales of saints and devils battling in the Holy Books.


    Simon nodded. "Yep. Blessing and curses. The things you read about in the Holy Books. Those weren''t just stories designed to make you eat all of your dinner and play nice with others. They really happened. And they still happen on the battlefield. They kill a lot of men." He reached into his coat again and pulled out a throwing knife. Light traveled up the keen edge from the tip to the hilt. Simon tossed the knife and caught it with deft sure fingers, even as the train lurched from side to side. "Our squad''s job is to eliminate the enemy mages that cast those magic spells. We¡¯re mage-killers."


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    Lukas listened, rapt as the knife danced and twirled in Simon¡¯s fingers like a silvery fish jumping in river rapids. "When a mage casts a curse or a blessing, their eyes glow white for a moment while they concentrate. They glow brighter than the noon-day sun; even smoked glass can¡¯t conceal the shine." Simon flicked his hand and his knife vanished into his coat. He ran his hand through his hair and Lukas gulped back his sudden urge to plaster Simon¡¯s calloused fingers with kisses of worship. "Makes a hell of a target. Some of my men use rifles with silvered bullets, I prefer silvered blades."


    Lukas breathed out a single word, unable to trust that his voice wouldn¡¯t crack, "Why?"


    The knife was suddenly underneath his chin, the cool flat of the blade pressed against his hot skin. He hadn¡¯t seen Simon move while staring at the fingers of his other hand. Simon leaned close and as he pulled back the blade, it scraped against Lukas¡¯ stubble. Lukas shivered and felt hot breath on his cheekbone. "Because it''s more frightening to see a knife bloom from your fellow mage''s right eye than it is to take a bullet in the dark. It means someone dangerous is close. Close enough to steal your life away."


    I would willingly give you my life, Lukas thought feverishly. He parted his lips and leaned forward, dragged by a irresistible pull.


    Simon pressed his finger against Lukas¡¯ lips, the heat of his touch searing. He murmured over the noise of the train, "Half of warfare is demoralizing the enemy, making them lose the will to fight. If mages get scared, they can''t cast curses. It only takes one mistake."


    Lukas licked Simon¡¯s finger with the flat of his tongue. Simon dropped his knife with a clatter, his cheeks crimson as Lukas suckled at his index finger. "It only takes one mistake." Lukas said as he released Simon¡¯s finger from his lips, a string of saliva connecting them before it broke.


    For a moment they regarded each other, each measuring the intensity of the other¡¯s desire. Simon coughed first and adjusted himself in his breeches as he recovered his knife. "Indeed, clever boy. Very clever." Simon''s small praises nestled deep in Lukas'' groin. "Now I''m going to take a nap so enjoy your last hours of being a civilian and I don''t know, watch hundreds of miles of farmland. There''s not much scenery between here and Midford Bridge." Simon closed his eyes and rested his head against the back wall of the train car with the expertise of a well-seasoned traveler.


    Simon was right. There really wasn''t anything to look at out of the windows so Lukas watched Simon doze instead. Long lashes dusted his pale freckle spotted cheeks and Lukas looked away so he wouldn''t arouse himself again. He had to prove he was worthy of Major du Trop''s attentions. He swallowed and stroked the underside of his chin where the cool blade touched him, the memory searing him with perverse heat. He was going to learn how to do that too. He was going to be a mage-killer. He flushed with anticipation and excitement.


    The train stopped and more men boarded. They were a mix of raucous enlisted men back from leave and exhausted officers. The passenger car was about half full. The noise of their voices combined with the movement of the train lulled Lukas to sleep.


    Da, what''s wrong with Lukas? Ma! Come help! His sisters were crying. He made them cry, the realization stabbed him in the heart. They were so scared. They were scared of him! The room was hot, stiflingly hot. Sweat oozed from every pore. His jaw hurt, his teeth hurt, everything HURT. He spat blood out upon the floor, there were teeth in the bloody spittle. Lukas pawed at his mouth and sliced his finger open on a new razor sharp fang that sprouted in his mouth like a spring seed. The bloody mess made his sisters scream again. He fell to his knees, covered his face with his bloody hands and curled into a ball. He shivered and shook as the scents of his home buffeted and bashed his hypersensitive nose. Everything had a scent and he couldn''t make sense of what belonged where. What''s wrong with me? WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME!?


    "Buddy! Hey buddy!" Someone shook his shoulder. "Wakey wakey." Lukas blinked awake, shaking off the foulness of his nightmare. A friendly face grinned at him from over the back of the train seat. "I bet I know what you were dreaming about. You''ve got new Alpha written all over your pretty face."


    It felt odd to be complimented by someone other than Simon. He didn¡¯t like it. "Yeah, I presented about a week ago." Lukas rubbed the back of his stiff neck. "Sorry I was making a scene." He glanced at Simon who was still asleep. "Thanks for waking me up."


    "No problem! I remember when I became an Alpha, got chased out of the house by my mum with a broom. Can you believe that? At least the Imperial Army is happy to have us, right? I''m Georgie Belle, Private First Class Second Artillery." He was apple-cheeked and redheaded, missing one of his front teeth. Georgie offered his hand and Lukas shook it, but Georgie didn''t let go of it. Maybe these were city manners, holding hands with new acquaintances. Georgie stroked his thumb against Lukas¡¯ palm and winked.


    "Lukas Braddock. I haven''t signed the paperwork yet." He pulled his hand away and nodded at Simon, "I''m in his squad. I mean, I''ll be in his squad."


    Georgie whistled under his breath. "Oh man. You''re gonna be a mage-killer."


    "How did you know?" Lukas asked.


    "You see that pin with the skull and the dagger on his lapel? That''s the emblem for the Tactical Magical Practitioner Neutralization squad. Nobody calls it that though. You''re the mage-killers. And that''s the Big Blonde Bastard. Everyone knows him." Georgie whistled again in appreciation.


    That irritated Lukas, both the casual admiration and the horrible nickname. He snapped at Georgie, "Don''t call the Major that that."


    His irritation washed off Georgie like rain on oiled leather. "Don''t get all ruffled up. That''s his nickname. He''s fucking deadly. Holds the record for the most mage kills ever. Shit, you don''t want to know how many people he''s pissed off. You''ve got a tough program ahead of you, like only half of his recruits make it. The rest wash out and head to other units. You''re welcome to join us. We''re very friendly." Lukas looked at his own boots as Georgie spoke in his ear.


    "Too friendly by half, Private Belle." Simon said flatly, one blue eye slit open. He reminded Lukas of an irritated barn cat, deceptively sleepy and lax.


    Georgie saluted with a shameless grin. "And hello sir! I was just making friends with your future subordinate here. Very respectfully, I might add."


    Simon frowned and Georgie shrank back. "Cross my assistant off of your list of possible conquests."


    "He might like my face." Georgie protested and Lukas shook his head in denial. He was so embarrassed. "My tent is always open for exploratory recon, remember that my pretty Lukas.¡± Georgie blew him a kiss and returned to his own company. The noise on the train returned to normal levels and Lukas realized that all the passengers had been listening to them, he shrank in upon himself, ears red as his cheeks.


    "Remember when I told you that you''d have no shortage of opportunities?" Simon said low enough so only Lukas could hear him. "It''s going to go around the camp that you''re fresh new meat. If you don''t welcome their advances then tell them that the Big Blonde Bastard wouldn''t be happy with dereliction of your duties as his assistant."


    "I-- I don''t know that word." Lukas stammered, flustered by both the unwanted attention from Georgie and his own desire to monopolize Simon''s attentions.


    Simon glared at the soldiers who were staring at them and tittering. He stretched in his seat and his coat fell open to reveal his throwing knives. The tittering stopped."In simpler words, it means you''re mine."

 Arriving at Base Camp

    The train whistle blew and the locomotive ground to a halt. Simon tapped Lukas on the leg as the other passengers disembarked. His smile was reassuring and warm. "Ready?"


    Lukas smiled with faux bravery. "I guess I have to be." Simon ruffled his hair as he stood up.


    They departed the train station in a bustle of grey uniforms and steam. The soldiers and officers reminded Lukas of flocks of songbirds, drab grey wool coats slashed with colorful belts and armbands that showed rank. Simon¡¯s belt was deep blue with a single gold strip.


    Vendors lined the corridor hawking food, trinkets and personal luxuries, eager to grab any last coins from a soldier returning to base. Simon kept a hand between Lukas'' shoulder blades, guiding him around the muck puddles and wagon ruts.


    It smelled like chaos. Mud and manure mixed with sweat and oil, spices and steam. Each Alpha and Omega had their own scent as well, as unique as a fingerprint. So many discordant scents made his nose numb.


    Simon''s hand on his back grounded him and kept him from panicking within the crowds of people. He listened intently as Simon pointed to landmarks. "The first thing to do is to get deloused, outfitted and get your pretty new tattoo." Simon pointed at a large tent complex on the edge of camp. "My Alphas say that the lice soap actually helps cut down on all the other smells in camp, because it stinks so badly that you can only focus on it. Look forward to that, I guess. They''ll give you a mage test too and depending on the results they''ll choose which unit you''ll be assigned to."


    Lukas stopped dead in his tracks, causing a few soldiers behind them to almost collide with him. They spat a few muffled curses and walked around. Lukas clutched at the throat of his homespun shirt. "I thought I was going to be in your unit! You said that I was yours."


    Simon clicked his tongue and pulled Lukas to the side of the busy corridor. "If you''re not a mage, then yes, you''re mine to train and command. That''s the privilege given to an officer during recruitment leave." Simon held up his hand to stop Lukas'' next question. "If you have the mage spark, then the mage corps will take you and I can''t challenge them." Simon smiled as Lukas fretted, tangling his fingers in the laces at his throat. "I''m sure you''re a magic null just like I am. Don''t worry."


    How could he not worry? The idea of being thrown headlong into this chaos and confusion without Simon''s guiding hand, without his calm instruction was horrifying. If he wanted to stay alive and well, he needed to stay by Simon''s side. "But what if I''m not? I don''t want to be a mage. I want to be with you! That¡¯s the only thing I want!"


    ¡°Well then.¡± Simon''s eyes softened and he turned them away from the crowd, shielding Lukas from prying eyes with his body behind a vendor''s tent. "I''ll tell you how to get past their test. This is a secret that only two people on base know.¡± Simon lowered his voice. ¡°The crystal they''ll hand you is bullshit. It''s just a pretty crystal. They''re looking for that bright mage glow." Simon touched Lukas'' eyelids with two fingers of his hand, closing Lukas¡¯ eyes. The lids fluttered underneath his fingertips like baby bird hearts. "The test proctor is going tell you to close your eyes and think about your favorite cow or something dumb like that, then they''ll order you to open your eyes after they root around in your brain. That¡¯s when they¡¯ll see the glow."


    "In my brain? They can read minds?" Lukas gasped, pinned to the tent wall by two gentle fingertips as effectively as iron manacles.


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    "Yes. The highest level mages can do that. They don''t want people to know that they can do things other than simple blessings and curses." Simon murmured in his ear, the heat of his breath searing into Lukas'' soul.


    Some men didn''t need magic to be dangerous, Lukas thought as he thickened in his breeches.


    "They can''t control what you think about. Think about someone you want to protect, concentrate on how much you want to keep them safe. If you have any magic spark that will put up a barrier that the proctor can''t see through and it will mask any eye glow. If you¡¯re a magic null, it won¡¯t matter." Simon took his fingers away and blew on Lukas'' eyelashes. Lukas blinked his eyes as Simon gestured with a flourish. "No glow, no mage." Simon smirked as if amused by a small mischief. "And as a fun aside, it will really piss him off."


    "Do I want to make a dangerous mage mad at me?" Lukas ventured, a bit flustered by the sudden intimacy of the lesson.


    Simon shrugged with one shoulder. "If you''re going to be with me, then you better get used to being hated by mages."


    "Any other words of wisdom?" Lukas snapped, still swamped with anxiety at the thought of being separated.


    "The tattoo gun does sting a little. Don''t wiggle or you''ll have wavy numbers like I do." He tapped his own chest below his right clavicle. "Look I know I dropped a lot of new information on your lap. It''s okay if you''re scared or nervous.¡± He hooked his arm around Lukas¡¯ shoulders and propelled them through the crowd towards the large tent flying the Imperial Crest.¡°I''ll be waiting here if you have any questions. If anyone gives you shit, direct them my way. Now line up, take a deep breath and welcome to the army, my lad." Simon smiled and flipped him a jaunty little salute as Lukas stepped through the tent flaps into his new life.


    A grumpy man sitting behind a desk with ink stained fingers and a stack of papers gruffly barked, "Name, designation, sponsoring officer?"


    "Lukas Braddock, Alpha, Major Simon du Trops." He was happy that he didn¡¯t stutter, but at the sound of his accent the clerk rolled his eyes. He scribbled with his fountain pen and ripped a form from the stack of papers.


    "Okay hayseed, take this form and head to the medical and delousing tent."


    "The what?"


    "The medical and delousing tent. The green one. Over there. Next!" The clerk hooked his thumb over his shoulder.


    "Oh, thank you sir." Lukas said, immediately forgotten by the clerk.


    The man staffing the entrance at the next tent was just as abrupt. "Strip. Throw your clothes into the basket. Grab the lice soap bag and get in the showers. If you don''t scrub like your mama told you to make the kitchen floor shine, we''ll do it for you." He let his gaze drag over Lukas and the predatory promise gleamed in his eyes. "After you get all squeaky clean, show the medic at the other end of the showers. He''ll look at your body, give you your uniform and boots. Then he¡¯ll send you to the tattoo tent."


    Lukas was already stripped out of his boots and homespun shirt, he hopped on one leg as he struggled with his breeches."Yes sir, thank you sir! Should I salute too?"


    The man snorted. "Goddess, aren''t you adorable? Get moving sweet cheeks."


    The lice soap worked wonders to clear his nose after his retching stopped.


    The uniform was the finest thing Lukas had ever worn. Even his smallclothes were finely woven, not that he¡¯d ever worn them before on the farm. He wriggled his toes in the boots as the tattooist applied the last touches to the tattoo beneath his right clavicle. It hadn¡¯t hurt as much as he¡¯d feared, perhaps Simon had underestimated his tolerance for pain. Nothing quite felt as bad as stepping in a buried hornets¡¯ nest while plowing the vegetable plot. The tattooist nodded in approval. "Number 47854. Nice job holding still. Keep it dry until the pigment paste and bandage falls off. Your skin is so dark I had to use extra strength ink, so it''s gonna be itchy. Report to the mage test tent. The blue one."


    Lukas buttoned up his fine new undershirt and gulped back his anxiety. This was his new life. Simon had given him the trick to fool the mage proctor; he had to trust that it would work. Maybe the mage would be as bored and uninterested with the test as the rest of the intake tent staff had been.

 Deliberate Failure

    The two men sat facing each other, the two chairs were the only furniture in the tent. A lamp dangled overhead, casting deep shadows underneath the mage¡¯s cheekbones. The mage proctor wore the same uniform as Simon, but his belt was a shining gold with four black stripes. The pin on his lapel was a skull with a lighting bolt through it. Warm brown eyes that matched his not quite regulation haircut made Lukas feel marginally better. The Imperial Army was full of attractive men that made Lukas question why he hadn¡¯t visited the big city sooner.


    "And how are we feeling today, Private--" The mage glanced at the form that Lukas held against his chest as a protective shield. "Braddock?"


    "I feel like a prize heifer at the Harvest Fair, sir." Lukas felt his ears heat up under the mage''s regard.


    The mage laughed. "Not a bad description. I am Archmage Gregory du Trops and I¡¯ll be administering your test today." He had the same last name as Simon. Did that mean that they grew up in the same orphanage?


    "Do you know what mages are?" Lukas shook his head and the Archmage continued in a calm even tone that reminded Lukas of how his father talked to cranky mules. "Mages cast magic called blessings and curses.¡± He held open his right hand. ¡°Blessings are of positive intent.¡± He opened his left hand. ¡°Curses are of negative intent.¡± He folded his hands together.


    ¡°We use our powers to influence the outcome of battles. A curse applied to a cannon can make the cannon explode or kick back, missing the target. A blessing applied to a cannon may make it hit the target right here." The Archmage pressed his finger between Lukas'' eyes and slightly tilted his own head as if evaluating what he saw. He sat back, resting his hands lightly upon his thighs.


    "A cursed Alpha suddenly goes into rut on the battlefield. A blessed one avoids a bullet in the heart." Lukas heard the paper beneath his palms crinkle as he stared into the Archmage¡¯s mesmerizing eyes. He could not look away as the mage continued. "We are both the angels and the demons of the battlefield, both sanctified and damned by our powers. If you join our ranks you''ll be elevated above your fellow Alphas. Mages are powerful beyond our secondary designations."


    He reached inside a satchel on the floor at his side and pulled out a green crystal the size of a fall apple. "This crystal measures your spark, your potential." He held his palm flat as if offering a carrot to a shy horse. ¡°Don¡¯t be afraid.¡± Lukas took the crystal. The enlistment form fluttered to the ground as he cradled the stone in his palms.


    "Now close your eyes and think about your favorite food your mother made." It was a better choice than his favorite cow, Lukas thought as he remembered Simon¡¯s warnings. ¡°Tell me what it is.¡±


    "Apple tart." Lukas said as he closed his eyes, picturing his family sitting around the hearth as his mother read from the Holy Books. There was an extra seat at the hearth for him.


    The Archmage murmured, his voice soothing and guiding, "Did your mother add rum soaked raisins?"


    "Yes." The extra seat wasn''t for him. It was for Simon. As he imagined his commander sitting beside the warmth of the fire, his heart warmed at the same time. He wanted to add Simon to his family. It felt right, like adding rum-soaked raisins to an apple tart. The certainty of the revelation zinged up his spine as he concentrated on protecting everyone that he loved.


    "Open your eyes." Lukas obeyed. The Archmage''s brow furrowed as he searched Lukas'' face, his nose a hairsbreadth away the young man''s own. "Why-- why isn''t there anything there? It doesn''t make sense. You''re swollen with potential, but something is blocking my-- " He looked down at the registration form on the tent floor and spoke as if confirming a terrible suspicion. "Who recruited you, Private?"


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    "Major Simon du Trops, sir."


    The Archmage sat back, sighed and looked up at the tent ceiling in resignation. "Thank you Private. That explains quite a lot." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Did you ever think about the potential benefits of becoming a mage?"


    "I didn''t even know that mages even existed until today, sir." Lukas admitted.


    "The Major always was a selfish brat." Archmage Gregory shook his head. "Being a mage has privileges and benefits that far surpass that of an average soldier or even a lower-ranking officer. Alpha mages are paid twice what their magic-null counterparts are, not to mention that we get the best food, housing and medical care. Entire branches of the infantry are assigned to protect us on the battlefield." He rested his hands on his thighs as he regarded Lukas. "Did my old friend Simon fail to mention most of that?"


    Lukas bit at his lower lip and replied, "He did not mention any of that, sir." It wouldn''t have mattered if he had.


    The mage sighed. "I wish that I''d found you first." He reached out and took the crystal from Lukas'' hands. "Newly presented Alphas are like ducklings. They tend to imprint upon the first person they perceive as being stronger than they are. That''s why the military sends officers out to collect our newborn baby ducks. There''s nothing wrong with it, it''s just how life works, but I feel that you are cheating yourself out of an amazing opportunity for your future." He was so earnest that Lukas felt a bit guilty about his choice. "You don''t have to stay with the first officer who catches your eyes. If you cooperate with testing and you pass then you will have the very best that military life can offer. Even a retirement with a pension after years of honorable service. Mage-killers serve until they''re too injured, too old or too dead to fight. Please, please reconsider."


    Everything that the Archmage said was honest and forthright. He wouldn''t be begging a lowly enlisted man if he didn''t feel like Lukas had the potential to be a mage. A magic user flinging blessings and curses over the battlefield, altering the fates of men. The idea terrified Lukas. It was one thing to have a dagger in his hand, an honest rifle over his shoulder, but casting magic spells like some hero of legend in the Holy Books? He couldn''t picture himself doing that.


    Lukas said after a very long awkward silence, "I''m not a mage."


    The Archduke stood up and faced the exit. "You''re powerful enough to block my test, that''s proof enough of your spark. As a new recruit I''m sure you are unaware of my position in the chain of command." He held out his hand at shoulder height. "That''s where the General is. The officer in charge of the entire operation of this camp. This is where I rank as Archmage." His hand didn''t move. "I could conscript you into the mage corps anytime I like."


    ¡°Please¡ª please don¡¯t take me from him, sir. I might be stupid¡ª- no, I¡¯m not stupid. I may have only known him for two days but I feel in my heart, in my soul that we are meant for each other. His scent alone makes my heart reel¡ª¡° Lukas pleaded with heartfelt passion, uncertainty fueling him into recklessness.


    ¡°Betas don¡¯t have a scent that impacts Alphas.¡± Archmage Gregory interrupted as he folded his arms.


    ¡°Well he does! He smells like honey and salt and my favorite Winter Solstice bread on a sunshine-filled day. His hands are warm, and his smile is kind. I don¡¯t want to imagine a day without him in my life no matter how short or hard it is. Please sir, I¡¯m begging you, don¡¯t make me be a mage.¡± Lukas bowed his head. He was at the mercy of the powerful man standing in front of him.


    ¡°So apple tart isn¡¯t your favorite food either?¡± The Archmage sighed again.


    ¡°No sir. Not anymore.¡± Lukas held his breath.


    Archmage Gregory plucked the enlistment form from the floor and pulled out a stamp from his satchel. It was a black X. ¡°Perhaps some of that misspent passion could be put to better use for defense of your country.¡± He stamped it in the lower corner in the space labeled, Failed Mage Test. "I want you to know that if you ever reconsider, you are welcome in the mage corps. Please give this paperwork to the clerk standing outside.¡± He smiled but Lukas felt his immense disappointment weigh upon him like stones upon his shoulders.


    As Lukas stood up, saluted and began to leave the tent the Archmage said, ¡°Oh and please give Major Simon my warmest personal regards. We will all meet again in two days time.¡±


    ¡°If I may ask, why sir?¡± Lukas asked and the gleam in the mage¡¯s eyes made the hair stand on end upon the back of his neck.


    ¡°Our units use each other as training target practice, of course. Until we meet again, Private Braddock. You are dismissed.¡±