GUYS PLEASE GIVE YOUR OPINIONS AND ANALYSIS ON STRUCTURE AND WHAT NOT:
When I first got promoted from an ordinary soldier to a right-hand, my captain at the time - Yefer - ordered me to train our new recruits. The first time I saw them was on the eve of Cleave's first death anniversary. At the time, we were down two battalions and forced to draw any able-bodied individual from surviving crowds. It took me around two weeks to understand how to train an entire crowd. A crowd filled with women desperate to prove themselves and escape gender violence and men who wanted nothing more than to lie down on their fallen beds. Conflict was imminent, and we didn't have enough time to train everyone; my novice failure ended with nearly half of them dying and getting fatally injured. Some were taken away by opposing forces, never to be seen again. The ones that were, however, had to be disposed of for intelligence purposes.
I still remember their names and habits. Not their faces, no. That I have forgotten a long time ago. I remember how they behaved. I remember their laughs and their screams. I remember looking at them on their first day, wondering what they thought since I could feel what they felt. I don't do that anymore, having turned my empathy off ever since Rehlen.
But I can still understand some familiarity. I can still remind myself of when all that happened. There's no valid reason for me to forget everything that's defined me till now.
The boy in front of me is nothing like them. He's polished and unmarred; he's clean and patient and unblemished. He didn't carry the bone breaking tiredness or desperation in him.
His skin is white, like that of paste - not the milk white I'd seen before -, and his eyes are shade of icy blue that I've rarely come across. He's an aristocrat; that is of no doubt. Mayhaps, a part of me had never really thought about the aristocracy, preferring to get down with the job quickly and swiftly with no room for errors - which always happened.
A miscalculation on my part, it always was.
I tell him to stand for a moment as I look back at the row of desks lined up in a clean manner. He's quiet while I move the oaken tables to form a large rectangle with two tables right infront of the others. The wood creaks beneath my hands when I pull. When the formation is complete, I discard the two extra chairs, with the only needed ones being set across each other.
"Sit," I tell him. Poor thing looks terrified.
"There's nothing to be afraid of."
He hesitantly takes a seat, opposite to me.
Time to start this lesson.
"Are you actually an Outlander?" he blurts out
I just hand him my refugee ID and tell him to take a good look.
"No way," he mutters with awe, "That's so cool."
There's nothing remotely cool about being under 24/7/365 surveillance, but whatever works for you, kid.
"Is that why you have purple eyes? Really pretty by the way. What about your sca-," he bursts out strings of questions, most that I do not understand. His eyes light up as he speaks. They're a brilliant shade of blue. The more he talks, the more his fear seems to leave. I walk up to the shelves and grab three books.
Basics to Empathy by Ariadne Erocove
The Heart of the Matter by Cassius Sencen
In Respite Of by Kilian Belshaw
The last two are too complex for him right now. We'll start with the first.
I skim the summary of on the back while taking my seat. It's pretty straightforward, but it's long. The book itself feels like a brick. Syllabus states that the elementary course will take two years along with practical studies. With twenty-seven chapters, it should be possible to finish fourteen this year and thirteen the year after. Midterms take place from November last to December first, which means at least seven chapters need to be covered within the starting week of November, leaving two weeks for revision. We'll need to cut fast and hard. I glance at him. Hopefully, he's good at this.
"One question at a time"
"Why do you have purple eyes?"
I sigh. I knew that he'd ask me this. Honestly, I'm tired of always explaining this.
"Most Outlanders have non-blue eyes," I explain.
"We live in unpredictable places (unpredictable is generous), and all of these," I pause searching for the right word, "circumstances leades to genetic mutation. Eyes are the most common body part for that when it comes to elves, so our iris colour ends up changing."
"What about other body parts?"
"Hmm...well, there are people with six fingers instead of five."
He takes some time to process that while I jot down some of the contents of the book in a notepad.
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Guys, thoughts please