By the next day, Naren quickly regretted how quickly he'd agreed.
As it turns out the Tomb of Atlas was a very prominent destination. One that called many shaman to its trials every couple of years. Even their group of one hundred was just one of many fleets being sent.
"None have ever lived through or even found the Tomb of Atlas."
Elara had sat Naren down in her cabin, ready to fill out the paper work.
"Hold on, then how are you taking us there to begin with?"
Naren's eyebrow's rose slightly, worried he might've been conned into signing his life away. His eyes wandered around the girly cabin.
"We're going to where the Tomb used to stand. It's the best bet you'll have."
She brought a stack of papers from under her desk and began with the first one.
"Fable?"
"I gotta say?"
"It's required."
"I can teleport to objects I throw."
Naren paused for a second. He had to make it convincing. No way was he just going to let his fable be documented for so many to see and admire.
"But it can only be during the day."
"Spite?"
"I'm forgotten by those around me. The level of which is dependent on multiple factors."
Elara raised an eyebrow, intrigued by this unique spite.
"Like what?"
"Normal humans will start forgetting me shortly after they stop interacting with me. Shaman range, depending on how strong they are."
"So you're telling me I'll end up forgetting you?"
"Probably."
For a second silence filled the room. Then Elara got back to reading off the list.
"Full name?"
—————————————
During the days following his enlisting, Naren was given the chance to attend combat classes inside the big building at the back of the ship. There, all the other privates spent most of their days, both training and forming bonds—teams. The Tomb of Atlas, if even found wouldn't be something you could survive alone.
Despite Elara's advice, Naren decided to not attend the classes, only entering the building when it was time for meals. He spent most of his days sleeping or with Vera who also refused to attend. Due to this, his fellow privates began developing an image of him.
"What an arrogant asshole."
"He's just dead weight."
"Perverted loser."
'Ok now you're just making things up.' The last one caught him off guard. So much so that Naren almost confronted the guy, but decided against it.
He watched them through the cafeteria window sometimes. Not intentionally. He'd just end up looking that direction and they'd be there — running drills together, arguing about technique, sitting in groups at meals with the comfortable noise of people who'd decided to trust each other. Building something. Whatever that was worth in a place like this.
He knew how it would end. Two weeks from now, a month, whenever his spite did what spites do — they'd look right through him. All of it, gone. The inside jokes, the shared near-deaths, whatever shorthand develops between people who've almost died together. Erased. Not maliciously. Just quietly, the way a fire goes out when you stop feeding it.
It wasn't worth being upset about. He'd known this his whole life.
He ate his food and didn't think about it.
—————————————
As the days went by. The preliminary shaman began getting more and more restless. Until one day Elara called for all of them to be assembled outside.
As Naren gathered, he looked around, examining each and every face. Looking for someone in particular. A picture of Yuna flashing into his mind.
'Thought she mighta been here.' He shrugged as he focused his attention on the captain that began her speech. 'Guess she was just a mud doll after all.'
"Listen to me soldiers. We have one week left. That's the estimated time to reach that giant chasm, if everything goes well. Of course, nothing ever goes well, but I want you all to keep this time frame in mind at least. It's best to prepare for the soonest time."
She paused, looking over the faces of all the soldiers gathered.
"Let me start my saying this. I doubt all of you will live to become full shaman."
A frenzy of whispers rushed through the crowd.
"However, that doesn't mean that none of you will live. That none of you will become shaman...The Tomb of Atlas is a very delicate topic. Ever since it has appeared as a trial site, not one person has ever become a shaman through, furthermore, not one person has ever even made it to the Tomb of Atlas."
"That is not to say that you won't. As a member of the Grimm's division, as a member of the third company, as a member of the second platoon. You are all swords for the people. You have all given your word. That said you must all live and become shaman."
A gallant chant flowed through the crowd in waves.
"Once we make it to the chasm, it is in our best intentions to move as one unit. The chasm itself is a horrible place, one that nobody has any pleasant tales of. Now, if you do end up making it to the Tomb of Atlas somehow, the will of the beast inside your soul will give you one final task to complete in that land. Once you have complete it, your soul will be spared from being consumed and you will be recognized as full shaman...That being said. One week. In one week I expect to see you all in the best shape you've ever been in."
With that, Elara gave the crowd a long standing salute. One which every private mirrored. Except Naren, who had a lazy imitation that gave up half way through while yawning and Vera who was far too concerned about finding the Tomb of Atlas to even notice.
She began to walk back to her cabin when she paused.
"One more thing: Shaman work best in groups of five. In two days, we'll hold a small practical exam to determine the groups."
Then she paused again before continuing.
"Let us all come back alive. Let us all come back as miracles."
With that she returned back to her cabin. The group of privates all whispering among themselves. The thought of proving their strength to the others sent them into a frenzy of pride and anticipation.
Vera looked to Naren. She wondered what he would do now. Now that he had another way to get to the Tomb of Atlas, would he throw her away?
Though, looking at his face, Vera couldn't make anything out. The tired lazy eyes almost half asleep wandered through daydreams. She tightened her small grip into a fist. A bit of sadness seeping in.
'I don't want to be alone.'
As Vera assumed, Naren hadn't paid any attention to the practical exam. Instead, he was held up by a different thought.
'Miracles.'
Naren dwelled on that last line for a bit. Thinking about what was in store for him. As he thought about his sister, wrapping the crimson scarf around him, as he thought about Maren who raised him, as he thought about Alice, a crooked smile latched onto his face. Yeah, that'll do.
'Let's hope for that. A miracle.'
As the thought crossed his mind, it quickly vanished, letting a sneeze make it's way out. Naren shivered pulling the crimson scarf tighter around his neck. It was starting to get really chilly out of nowhere. There was also something else though. A very faint muffled movement Naren could hear, something metallic.
Deep down in the depths of the black waters. Several kilometers below the sea there was something, moving.