Warfire | Broken Time Series: Book Two

Chapter 34

"...Is anyone else thinking what I'm thinking?"

"I don't know, Gath. What are you thinking?" Az asked with feigned interest.

The teens sat on stumps around their area's firepit a few yards away from their tent. They were told they were sharing it with another squadron, making it almost fifteen in their tent in total, but the other group was currently out on a mission. It was unlikely they would have to encounter each other often. With that in mind, they didn't think the other squadron would mind it if they sectioned off a small portion of the tent for Milora. If they did have a problem, well, they'd have to face off against the six of them, all considered the prodigies of their generation. And an angry professor.

Nagan almost repeated Az's inquiry until Gath finally spat it out.

"Does anyone know if General Meixong is a man or woman?"

"Gath!" Milora gasped. "You can't say that!"

"I know, I know! But how am I supposed to address the general, then?" Gath gripped his hair as if he was having a crisis, which may have been true. "Our titles are gender specific, remember?"

Milora opened her mouth to reply, but her face slowly contorted into mild horror.

"What do we call her—him—oh dear..."

"Why don't we just ask General Meixong?" Nagan offered.

"But that feels rude..."

"The blond one's right, you could just ask me."

The teens nearly jumped out of their skins at the voice, and Aitor and Az even let out a yelp. Before they could even register what was really happening, a new log was added to the fire before the figure plopped down on an empty stump, crossing their legs with one ankle resting on the opposite knee. General Meixong then leaned forward with their hands folded in front of them, looking vaguely amused. They didn't have their Dragonmage cloak on.

"However, to answer your question, it's none of your business."

Gath immediately threw his arm up in a salute. "Yes, sir—ma'am! Wait, no—"

"General is acceptable."

"Yes, General!"

General Meixong snorted. "Perfect, I love it. But anyway, that's not the reason why I'm here. You can relax now."

The teens' shoulders dropped down, realizing they had tensed them up, and they forced themselves to relax. Gath dropped his arm, but his posture remained straighter than usual.

"I have a lot of information about you six," General Meixong began and sat up straight, the amusement wiped from their face. "All at the top of your classes or have special abilities. Maybe you fall into both categories. Prodigies, you're called, but some of you have been called that long before the war. But that means nothing to me because those things aren't what's going to keep you alive. So tell me, why are you here?"

The teens shifted uncomfortably, not really knowing what to say or to be the first to say why. Sensing the hesitation, General Meixong sighed.

"Well, no need to talk all at once," they muttered. "No one?"

More silence, so Meixong switched tactics.

"Here, I'll give you a few options. How about..." they looked at Gath, "Money?" To Milora and Aitor. "Opportunity?" To Az and Carth. "A chance to prove yourselves?" To Nagan. "Guilt?"

Gath was the first to speak, and the teens were surprised to see genuine anger from the normally optimistic boy.

"If you're only here to guilt-trip us and change our minds, I'm afraid you—"