Inside the dormitory, Law Enforcent Division – Training Wing, Eldoria
The low buzz of oil lamps and the occasional clatter of boots on stone echoed through the halls as recruits prepared for lights-out. Inside one of the rooms, two young n sat on opposite ends of a wooden bed, both clad in the simple uniform of the probationary corps. The air was thick with anticipation—tomorrow, one of them would officially beco a full-fledged officer of the Kingdom of Keldoria.
"So," Thom grinned, leaning back against the wall, "you're finally getting promoted tomorrow. Congratulations, Officer Jareth."
Jareth chuckled, running a hand through his unruly brown hair. "Yeah, I guess so. Can't lie—I'm excited. And nervous." He looked at Thom, eyes warm. "Thanks, man. You've been with since day one."
Thom smirked. "Ever since we nearly got thrown out together for failing that first formation drill, rember?"
"Oh gods," Jareth groaned. "Don't remind ."
The two laughed quietly, the sound of camaraderie filling the otherwise somber dorm.
"You earned it though," Thom added more seriously. "Level One, Level Two… and even Level Three. You passed 'em all. That's no small feat."
"I just had a bit of a head start," Jareth said modestly. "Before I was enlisted, I already knew how to read and write—not perfectly, but enough to get by. That gave a slight edge, and with a bit of effort, I managed to pass the Level 1 exam pretty quickly. That helped a lot."
"Well," Thom sighed, "lucky or not, you still had to pass the Level Two exam. I couldn't even finish half the ethics section without second-guessing myself."
"Level Two is brutal," Jareth agreed, his tone turning thoughtful. "But it's ant to be. His Majesty didn't want brutes with badges—he wanted people who understand the weight of the badge."
He glanced at Thom. "That's why they test not just your knowledge, but your judgnt. Civic law, situational response, de-escalation, crowd psychology, and most of all—character."
Thom nodded slowly. "Yeah. I rember that trick question about a suspect stealing food for their child. There wasn't even a 'right' answer. Just how you explain your decision."
"That's the point," Jareth said. "Anyone can morize penal codes. But His majesty wants officers who can think, not just enforce."
There was a pause as Thom digested that. Then he snorted. "Still doesn't make the damn thing easier."
Jareth laughed. "Nope. But once you pass that, Level Three is way more chill. Just a matter of proving you can run, block, and swing a baton without knocking your own teeth out."
"Or soone else's," Thom muttered.
"True." Jareth smirked. "Still, I'm glad his majesty's reforms don't end at books. The physical exam was no joke."
Level Three of Arthur's training program was designed to test coordination, endurance, and weapon handling. Officers-in-training had to demonstrate proficiency with non-lethal weapons—batons, reinforced nightsticks, riot shields, and crowd-dispersal tools like smoke bombs and pepper spray. Guns were deliberately excluded; firearms remained classified under Arthur's direct command, reserved only for specialized units. The kingdom wasn't ready to mass-deploy such lethal force. Arthur also wanted to keep it a secret and didn't want the public or other kingdom to know about it yet.
Instead, Arthur had introduced alternatives. Among them, Quickli grenades—a crude but terrifying tool. When exposed to moisture—sweat, tears, even rain—the powder reacted violently, producing caustic burns and severe eye irritation. It wasn't perfect, but in the absence of modern chemical agents like tear gas, it was a formidable substitute. Dangerous, yes—but deployed correctly, it could end a riot before it even started.
To create the quickli used in these grenades, Arthur had instructed the production teams to begin with raw listone—abundant in the hills outside Eldoria. The process was straightforward in theory but required precision and high heat. First, the listone was broken down into smaller chunks using sledgehamrs and stone crushers. These fragnts were then placed into a specially built kiln, heated to temperatures between 900 and 1,000 degrees Celsius. At that intense heat, the calcium carbonate within the stone broke down, releasing carbon dioxide and leaving behind a dry, white, powdery substance—calcium oxide, or quickli.
Once cooled, the quickli was stored in sealed containers to prevent premature exposure to moisture. When deployed in crowd control grenades, it would be dispersed as a fine dust. And that was where its danger—and effectiveness—ca in. The mont it ca into contact with water, whether from tears, sweat, or humidity in the air, it would undergo a rapid exothermic reaction. The powder transford into calcium hydroxide—slaked li—releasing heat and creating a burning sensation that could blind or incapacitate even the most aggressive rioter.
Arthur made sure every recruit understood both the power and the danger of this tool. It wasn't to be used lightly. A misthrow or a wind shift could injure the very civilians the enforcers were ant to protect. That was why the Level Three training emphasized not just brute force, but control—timing, distance, wind calculation, and situational judgnt. These weren't soldiers—they were peacekeepers. And Arthur intended to forge them into disciplined, precise instrunts of order in a world that had long survived in chaos.
Thom then asked, "Anyway… do you know where you're being stationed yet?"
Jareth shook his head. "No idea. Could be Eldoria, could be Iron Hearth where I'm from… hell, could be Solornay or even so dusty outpost near the northern border. The final assignnts co from His Majesty himself."
He hesitated, then added, "But if I had to choose… I'd want Iron Hearth. That's ho. I know the streets. I know the people. And after everything that's been going on there lately…"
"Yeah." Thom's tone turned more serious. "That place could use soone like you."
Jareth glanced at his friend. "Don't worry. Once you pass the Level Two, you'll be right behind ."
Before Thom could reply, the door creaked open and their two roommates stepped in. Each dorm room housed four recruits, and now the group was complete for the night.
Thom and Jareth turned toward them and gave a nod in greeting.
One of the newcors grinned. "Oh, I almost forgot—congrats on making an officer. You're the only one in this room to pull it off, so seriously… well done."
"Thanks," Jareth replied, a bit bashfully.
The other roommate yawned as he kicked off his boots. "Anyway, tomorrow is a big day for you. Get so rest."
"Yeah, good night," Thom added, settling back onto the bed. "Good night, everyone."
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