To the Sun, To the Stars, To the Sky

20: To Be A Bad Soldier

Nico POV

I overstepped. God, all I've been doing lately is overstepping. All I've been doing is breaking away from logic, from rules. Someone was going to truly hurt me for all of this, much more than Reyna had. (A/N: Is this where it gets me? In my sleep? Seven feet ahead of me?)

I won't say it didn't even hurt, because it did, but the pain faded quickly. It was more like a memory.

A memory.

General Ares's face when I messed up, when I was young. His face...his fists. The whip.

This is where it gets me. (A/N: :) )

I became robotic as dawn passed. The morning of the attack. I helped set up. People watched me with wide eyes. Pick up a weapon, pass it on. Pick up a weapon, pass it on. Everyone had weapons. Good. I need a sword. I didn't speak. I worked. I need a sword.

Reyna approached. The people around me froze. I straightened my back and saluted her. Staring straight ahead.

General Ares, stopping right in front of me. My back was not straight enough. Elbow not the correct angle. Face afraid. "1017, if you're scared, you gotta at least try to hide it, coward," he had muttered as he reached for the whip. I didn't know how to hide my fear. I shook. My stomach seemed to tear itself apart from either anxiety or hunger or both.

Reyna bowed her head. "Break form, soldier," she whispered. I did as I was told. I let my shoulders fall forward and my arm drop. I started picking out a sword.

"Nico, I just wanted to say I'm really sorry. I get it if you're really angry at me. I get it if you never talk to me again. I mean, you know, slapping you for disagreeing was bad enough, but if you're anything like I was, I probably caused flashbacks?" She paused, pulling her arms tightly around her own abdomen like a nervous hug. "And I wanted to let you know, it will not happen again. You will not be hurt again. You can sit out of the attack if you want. I would get that. You're not really in a state to fight, and I caused it."

I didn't answer. I lifted a stygian iron sword. It looked nice, and felt right in my hand. I turned and swung it at the tree. I hit it. This was a good sword.

I killed an enemy soldier for the first time, and General Ares watched with narrowed eyes. He was not upset about the dead body at my feet. He told me my form hadn't been very good as I'd killed him. Taught me how to kill better.

I was a horrible soldier at heart. I hated this. I hated all of this. General Ares had seen it at first, but I'd learned to cover it up. I was a good soldier on the outside, with a coward's heart.

I hefted the sword again and turned it over in my palm. It was similar enough to the one I'd had to give up before my almost-execution that it felt familiar despite being new. Reyna watched me. She reached out as if to put her hand on my shoulder but then thought better of it. She let it fall to her side again. "I hope you feel better soon, okay?"

I glanced over without answering and without looking directly at her. She sighed and left after one last apology.

I carried my new sword with me back to where the troops were being sorted into groups. (Sorted into ranks, I'm young as they scrutinize me. Bianca is by my side. I'm having doubts about joining the army. They'd said the pay was good. And, besides, it was honorable, which was about as good as two orphans could get.) A woman I hadn't been introduced to was doing the sorting, asking about what we were good at and then sending us into a group accordingly.

She raised her eyebrows and rather than asking what I was best at, she said, "You're that soldier guy, right? You're the leader of group A. I'll be in a similar group to yours until we reach the other end of the soldiers' quarters, and then I'm splitting off to join the attack on the east side. You'll go straight into the castle to attack and arrest the king. Hopefully just straight-up kill him, if you get the chance." ("You'll want to get rid of that heart of yours, boy, if you're going to survive any of this," a fellow soldier told me. "You can't kill someone and keep that heart." And so I took my heart out of the equation in order to stop the beating of others'. I felt sick as I grew up.) The woman held her knife, which she'd been precariously using to point to where we needed to go, under her right arm and extended her left to me. "I'm Clarisse, by the way."