Vanilla Dusk ✓

Dusk Part 5

The canteen is unusually crowded, filled with boisterous chatters and clanks. The queue extends out of the tent, reaching the sandy trail and almost the dormitory located a few meters away. The European Allies have dispatched a number of squads to aid them and their soldiers all stem from diverse backgrounds. They speak with multifarious accents and have different appearances. It has been decades since all European countries have been united into one single empire. Some have long forgotten and forsaken their own origins but some are rather stubborn when it comes to identifying themselves. A large proportion of them are descendants of races from Central Europe, just like Griswold and they all tend to retain their blond hair, pinkish skin and pointy noses. A few descendants from the lower regions have darker complexions, standing out with their olive skin and brown curly hair. A few have remarkably light skin, crimson hair and a face full of freckles. Some still remember their native language but some do not. There have been conflicts, of course, when they first arrived. A few defenceless and reclusive soldiers have been mocked and picked on, just like what Kaiden went through the other night. There are occasional disputes when they exchange contrasting views on the war progress or propose a completely different combat plan. Neither side seems fond of their partnership but given the pessimistic condition they are confronting; their alliance remains inevitable.

Kaiden has been avoiding Griswold whenever possible, but ever since the skirmish that night, Griswold has been seizing every opportunity to bump into him and every time they meet, the German Sergeant would be grinning, winking, or cracking terrible jokes. It's starting to get on Kaiden's nerves, especially when Griswold and his companions suddenly stop harassing him and trying to act friendly, whether or not as a way to fawn over his brother.

'Woah, they've got beef stew today,' exclaims Ren as he receives his rations. It has been months since they last tasted something decent. The boys gladly grab their plates and seek an empty corner in the depth of the canteen. Ren flops down swiftly with his legs spread apart, already unwrapping the aluminium foil. The beef stew looks unsightly – a smashed dark mess with a few pieces of chopped potatoes and some measly vegetables. Ren takes a large bite, ignoring how overcooked the meat is.

'It's hard,' complains Elli. 'I can't even chew it.'

'It's still something,' says Shaan, rather accustomed to Elli's habit of croaking. 'At least, you don't have to puke because of those bars.'

Elli sighs and swallows the barely edible meat, trying to relish its salty flavour and the slimy texture. Kaiden smiles and hands him a bottle of water.

'Have to agree with Elli this time,' says Ren, though he has no intention of stopping. He has finished half of his meal with his mouth stuffed and the sauce dribbling down his chin. Kaiden hands him a handkerchief which he grabs almost instantly and uses it to wipe his mouth. 'But I'm hungry. I don't care.'

Elli rolls his eyes and has to appreciate Ren's optimism at times like this. He is basically the clown in the gang and his goofy face is all they need to survive another day of gruelling training.

'Hey, Shaan, I remember that you cooked,' Ren suddenly pipes up and nudges Shaan with his elbow.

'You know how to cook?' asks Elli, his eyes beaming. Jónas used to cook him pasta and made him sandwiches, tortillas and cuisine made from the fine goat cheese from their village. He, himself, can't cook to save his life.

'Sure,' says Shaan.

'You know he's actually a master chef,' says Ren. 'He's capable of making something both Western and Eastern.'

'I don't think many people can do that nowadays,' says Kaiden.

'And I so miss your fried rice with pork chop,' says Ren.