Dromos 22, Imperial Year 1644
The Secondary Workshop – Late Evening
The Black Knights had returned from the watchtower. The class had gone to their own camp, shaken but committed. Now the seven knights stood in a loose semicircle before Vlad, who had removed the Zero mask. His pale face was calm, but his eyes were sharp.
"You did well tonight," Vlad said. "But some of you struggled with the performance."
Hound frowned. "Performance?"
"Every word, every gesture, every silence – it was a performance. The class needed to see us as a unified, mysterious, and terrifying force. You are soldiers, not actors. That must change."
Titan crossed his massive arms. "I'm not an actor. I hit things."
"And you will continue to hit things. But when we are in front of outsiders, you will stand still, you will keep your face neutral, and you will not speak unless I command it." Vlad walked to a cabinet and pulled out a small wooden box. "We will have acting lessons."
Sparrow raised an eyebrow. "Acting lessons?"
"Yes. You will learn to control your expressions, to project confidence even when you feel none, to stand in a way that commands respect." Vlad opened the box. Inside were small mirrors. "You will practice in these mirrors until you can look at yourself and see a Black Knight, not a former mercenary or guard."
Rook adjusted his spectacles. "Is this really necessary?"
"The class is watching us. They will report to others. Our reputation is our weapon. If we appear weak, uncertain, or ordinary, we lose that weapon." Vlad handed each knight a mirror. "You have one hour. Then we prepare for the dragon."
The Reactions
Hound stared at his reflection. His scarred face was naturally grim. "I don't need to practice. I always look like I want to kill someone."
"That is your natural state," Vlad said. "But you also need to look like you are in control, not about to snap. Relax your jaw. Unclench your shoulders."
Hound tried. He looked constipated.
"We have work to do."
Titan held the mirror at arm's length. "I'm too big to look mysterious. I'm just a wall."
"A wall that can crush a man's skull. That is mysterious enough. But do not smile. Your smile is terrifying in the wrong way."
Titan attempted a neutral expression. It looked like a threat.
"Better."
Sparrow studied her reflection. She had always been good at hiding her emotions. "I can do this."
"You are the most natural. But you fidget with your bowstring when nervous. Stop."
Sparrow tucked her hands behind her back. "Like this?"
"Yes."
Lynx held the mirror with one hand, her other resting on her grappling hook. "I'm a scout. I'm not supposed to be seen."
"Tonight, you were seen. And you shifted your weight constantly, as if ready to run. Stand still."
Lynx planted her feet. "This feels wrong."
"It will feel natural after practice."
Phantom did not take a mirror. He stood in the shadows, his face half‑hidden. "I don't need to act. No one sees me."
"The class saw you. You moved too quickly. It drew attention. Next time, move slowly, deliberately, like you have all the time in the world."
Phantom nodded. He stepped into the light, moved across the room at a glacial pace, then faded back.
"Better."
Eagle held the mirror, turning his head side to side. "I'm an elf. People expect me to be aloof."
"Yes. But you also have a tendency to smirk. Stop."
Eagle flattened his expression. "Like this?"
"Yes."
Rook was the last. He looked at his reflection, then at Vlad. "I'm an analyst. I'm not supposed to be in the field."
"Tonight, you were. And you flinched when the class looked at you. You must look them in the eye, unblinking, as if you are judging them."
Rook practiced. His first attempt was a wide‑eyed stare. His second was better. His third was almost convincing.
"Acceptable."
Dromos 23, Imperial Year 1644
The Workshop – Preparation
The acting lesson ended. Vlad dismissed the knights to prepare for the dragon hunt. Their role was not to engage the beast directly – Vlad would take the shot with the 20mm rifle. The knights were to secure the perimeter, harvest the dragon's body after it fell, and protect the class from any opportunistic predators.
Titan strapped on his tower shield. "I still think I should be the one to hit the dragon."
"You would break your arm," Vlad said. "The rifle will do the work."
Hound sharpened his sword. "And if the rifle jams?"
"Then you run. I have a secondary plan." Vlad did not elaborate.
Sparrow checked her arrows. "We're only there to harvest?"
"And to ensure nothing else attacks the class while they are distracted. Dragons attract scavengers – wyverns, bears, bandits. You will keep them away."
Lynx coiled her grappling hook. "What do we harvest besides the heart?"
"Scales for armor. Bones for weapons. Organs for alchemy. Everything has value." Vlad pulled out a list. "Rook will catalog. The rest will carry."
Rook sighed. "I'm an analyst, not a porter."
"Tonight, you are both."
Banter
After Vlad left to calibrate the rifle, the knights gathered around the table.
Titan set down his hammer. "Acting lessons. I've been in wars where I was less nervous."
Hound grunted. "He's right, though. The class was watching us like we were monsters."
"We are monsters," Sparrow said. "In a good way."
Lynx snorted. "Speak for yourself. I'm just fast."
Phantom's voice came from the corner. "You talk too much."
"And you talk too little. We balance."
Eagle cleaned his spyglass. "I still think we should have let Titan scare them into submission."
"That would have ruined the alliance," Rook said. "We need them to trust us. Or at least fear us enough to follow orders."
Titan cracked his knuckles. "Fear I can do."
"We know," Hound said. "That's why you're not allowed to smile."
The knights laughed – a rare sound, rough and short.
Sparrow looked toward Vlad's workshop. "Do you think he ever relaxes?"
"No," Lynx said. "That's why he's still alive."
They gathered their gear and headed out into the night.
End of Chapter Thirty‑Seven