Zlaw’s Echo

Two dozen people in their early twenties are standing at attention in front of a man in his forties. All in a similar outfit, they form a line, in front of which he is pacing calmly, wrists crossed behind the small of his back. “Welcome to Camp Heartfall. You have all been selected based on your athletic, intellectual, magical, and emotional capabilities. None of you should be lacking in any department, but in the event that you should find yourself short in any way, please, do NOT hesitate to rely on your team mates. You are expected to function as a whole, the constituting parts of a very well-oiled machine, working toward the same goal. In other words, no competition will be tolerated among counselors. Is that clear?” “Sir, yes, Sir.” To this spontaneous, unanimous, and unwavering assent, the corner of the drill sergeant’s mouth twitches as he refrains a full-on smile. It’s nice to see the camp is finally finding its pace. When he was where they are, they weren’t even half as ma...