Building a Modern Nation in a Fantasy World

"Now!" the instructor shouted, voice ringing through the courtyard like a battle horn. "You will be divided into teams. You will train together, study together, and serve together. The comrades beside you will become your brothers for years to come. Learn to trust one another. Learn to rely on each other. No one rises alone in this institution."

The recruits snapped to attention as the names began to be called out.

One by one, recruits stepped forward when their names echoed through the courtyard, each assigned to a numbered group. The process moved quickly, the instructors working with military precision as they herded nervous yet eager recruits into their assigned units.

Jareth stood still, heart pounding with a mixture of anticipation and uncertainty. His ears perked as each name was called, waiting for his own moment.

"Jareth Elwin!" the instructor finally called.

With a small exhale, Jareth stepped forward, joining his assigned group as directed. As he fell into place, he glanced around at the strangers now standing beside him, some hardened by labor, some looking barely old enough to wield a proper weapon. They were a diverse patchwork: farmhands, hunters, blacksmith apprentices, even a few former caravan guards judging by their postures.

He didn't know their names, their stories, or their struggles.

But standing among them, under the rising banner of Keldoria, Jareth felt a strange sense of unity.

This is it, he thought. The beginning of something entirely new—for all of us.

The instructor continued calling names, and soon, the vast courtyard was fully divided into distinct formations—rows of newly assembled teams standing under the shadow of the castle walls.

After completing the sorting, the instructor stepped forward once more, his voice carrying authority and absolute clarity.

"There will be a total of twenty-five groups assembled today," he announced. "Each group will consist of approximately thirty recruits. From this day forward, your group will be your unit. You will train together, study together, and complete your physical drills together. You will eat together. You will march together. You will fall together, and rise together."

Those words settled heavily across the recruits. For many of them, this was the first time they were being truly integrated into something larger than themselves. Something structured. Something meaningful.

The instructor's tone sharpened slightly as he added, voice echoing across the courtyard:

"Of course, after tomorrow's exam, those who pass will be reassigned based on their results. If you excel, you will be promoted to advanced groups for specialized training. If you struggle, you will remain with your group for extended instruction until you meet the standards."

Another ripple of murmurs swept through the sea of recruits. The stakes had been laid bare. The initial excitement many carried had now matured into a weighty determination—or rising anxiety.

For many of them, this was the first time in their lives where advancement wasn't based on family name or wealth—but on skill, effort, and willpower.

Jareth stood silently, his pulse steady but fast. The gravity of it all pressed against his chest. He glanced at the recruits standing next to him—the group that would be his team, at least for now. They, too, wore the same expression of tense resolve.

The instructor wasn't finished.

"This will be your only task for today. After tomorrow's exam, your real training will begin. Use this time wisely—get to know your team. Trust is forged not on the battlefield, but in the quiet moments between."

He paused, scanning the faces before him, making sure his next words struck deeply.

"Also, some of you may possess additional talents beyond basic law enforcement. If you demonstrate potential—whether in swordsmanship, physical strength, magical aptitude, or leadership—you may be assigned specialized roles after further evaluation."

Gasps and whispers broke out again. The mention of magic and knighthood instantly reignited hopes and dreams for many. After all, this was still a world where the power of knights and mages often dictated one's future.

The instructor continued, his voice stern, reeling their thoughts back to reality.

"However, understand this: regardless of your specialization—be it Mage, Knight, or Civic Officer—you will remain tied to your assigned group. Your unit is your family. Your role may shift, but your loyalty remains to your team. And most importantly you will still be an officer of the law that serves the Kingdom."

Jareth's mind raced. Mages? Knights? He had heard those rare individuals who could channel magic, or wield enchanted blades under noble banners. Could some of these recruits truly possess such talents?

The instructor gave one final sweep of the courtyard before his tone softened slightly.

"Now that I have explained to you the basic structure and rules, you will follow your assigned staff," the instructor said firmly, scanning the rows of recruits one final time. "They will escort you to your dormitories, explain the regulations, and prepare you for tomorrow's evaluation."

With a sharp clap of his hands, a row of uniformed staff stepped forward from both sides of the courtyard. Each held a tall wooden banner marked with large painted numbers, signifying the groups they represented.

The instructor's voice boomed once more.

"I have already assigned you your group numbers. Proceed now. Approach your respective staff members and follow their instructions. They will lead you to your living quarters—your home for the foreseeable future."

The recruits quickly scrambled into motion, scanning for their banners. Jareth, gripping his rulebook tightly against his chest, hurried toward the banner displaying his assigned group number: Group 7.

The other recruits forming around him were still strangers—men and women of varying builds, backgrounds, and expressions of excitement, nervousness, or sheer awe.

Their assigned staff—a woman dressed in a dark blue uniform with neatly tied hair—stood waiting for them. She appeared to be in her mid-thirties, with an aura of authority that immediately silenced the group.

As the last of them gathered, she stepped forward and introduced herself.

"Listen up," she said crisply. "I am Bora, Head Maid assigned to oversee your unit's dormitory. My role is not to serve you but to manage the living conditions, meals, and general order of this facility. I maintain the public areas, kitchens, and sanitation of the shared spaces. Everything else—your personal belongings, your room cleanliness, your discipline—is your responsibility. Do not mistake me for a servant."

Her tone wasn't harsh, but firm, commanding respect.

The recruits stood quietly, some straightening their backs instinctively.

"Now, follow me."

They marched behind her as she led them across the large courtyard and toward a wide, stone-paved path branching behind the castle's central grounds. The noise of other groups faded into the background as they approached the residential district of the training facility.

Ahead stood a large two-story building, both built from sturdy timber and pale stone. The roof was lined with dark red tiles, and multiple chimneys puffed thin trails of smoke into the afternoon sky. Large rectangular windows dotted the walls, with wooden balconies extending from the second floors.

"This is your dormitory," Bora announced as they approached. "Your home during your service as Probationary Officers."

The size of the building was far larger and luxurious than Jareth had expected. He had thought they would just live in a hut like refugees as they had not fully become a police officer and was nothing more than a dead weight at this moment.

As they entered through the tall, reinforced doors, the interior revealed a wide open common area that served as both a dining hall and recreation space. Long wooden tables stretched across the hall, already neatly arranged, polished, and spotless.

A broad staircase extended up to the second floor, while several hallways branched out on both levels leading to the sleeping quarters.

Bora continued her explanation as they walked through the first-floor hallway. "Each room is designed to house four people. Two bunk beds per room. One storage trunk per person. Personal space will be limited, but you will have more than most people living in the slum."

Jareth peeked through one of the open doorways as they passed. The rooms were simple but clean. Wooden bunk beds with clean sheets. Small wardrobes for clothes. Polished wooden floors. No luxuries—but far better than what he'd grown up with.

"For now, rooms have been assigned randomly," Bora said. "You may request room changes later once permanent teams are confirmed after the evaluations."

As they continued down the hall, the other recruits looked around with mixtures of relief and excitement. For many, this was the most stable and comfortable lodging they had ever seen.

After completing the brief tour, Bora halted at the center of the common area once more.

"Meals will be served three times a day. Schedules for training, study sessions, and dorm curfews will be posted on the board here each morning. Any violation of curfew, cleanliness standards, or conduct rules will be reported directly to your supervising instructors."

Her eyes swept across them, cold but fair.

"Do not forget—you are not nobles or guests. You are here to become the first generation of Officers of the Law. Privilege is not your right—it is something you earn."

The group straightened their backs, absorbing every word.

Jareth took a quiet breath, stealing a glance toward his assigned room. His heart was still pounding—not from fear, but anticipation. This wasn't just training—it was the beginning of a new life.

Bora clapped her hands sharply one final time.

"Unpack your things. Settle into your rooms and talk to each other. Dinner will be served in two hour. "

With that, she turned briskly and walked away, leaving the recruits to their own devices.

Jareth glanced at Thom, who had ended up in the same group by chance.

"Well," Thom said with a nervous grin, "I guess this is it."

Jareth smiled faintly, gripping the strap of his satchel.

"Yeah," he replied softly. "It's really happening."

Thom let out a nervous chuckle, trying to ease the tension swirling inside him. "Let's check the board in the common hall. They posted the room assignments there. Hopefully, we end up sharing a room."

"I hope so too," Jareth said with a small grin. It would be nice to have at least one familiar face in this whole new world.

As they made their way toward the large wooden board mounted near the dining hall entrance, recruits crowded around it, scanning their names and assigned rooms. The air buzzed with murmurs—some sighs of relief, others groaning at unfamiliar names paired beside theirs.

The two of them waited for their turn, eyes scanning up and down the list.

While they stood there, Jareth glanced sideways at Thom, breaking the silence with a question that had been lingering at the back of his mind all afternoon.

"What do you think?" Jareth asked quietly. "Will tomorrow's exam be hard?"