**Kaelan Stormfang's Log, Supplemental**
**Shire Valley – Government District**
**Late April, 2126**
A new flag flies.
A new line forms.
Justice, at last, has an address.
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Kaelan's boots struck the fresh pavement in a steady, driven rhythm. The surface was smooth and dark, still faintly warm beneath his feet from the morning sun. The hand comm in his left hand glowed with sharp blue lines, the GPS path cutting through the Government District like a blade. His breath came in controlled bursts, but his heart beat harder with every block. The scar along his left cheek pulled tight as he clenched his jaw. He turned the final corner and slowed to a walk.
The plaza opened before him in a wide, perfect circle. The pavement stretched outward in clean, dark rings, still bearing the faint sheen of recent construction. At its center rose a tall flagpole. The newly ratified flag of the American Republic cracked sharply in the wind — deep blue field, silver eagle with wings spread wide, a single gold star above its head. Sunlight caught the fabric, making it blaze against the clear sky.
To the right stood the Command Building, its dark windows reflecting the morning light. But it was the long, low structure directly ahead that drew Kaelan's attention. Wide steps led up to a broad entrance framed by clean composite panels. Above the doors, bold lettering read:
**SHIRE VALLEY POLICE DEPARTMENT HEADQUARTERS**
Temporary recruitment tables sat along the wide sidewalk in front of the building. A long line of people stretched down the block, curving along the plaza's edge. Kaelan exhaled slowly through his nose and walked forward, ears swiveling at the low murmur of voices. The scent of fresh pavement mixed with oiled leather, nervous sweat, and the faint smell of street food from a nearby stall. Humans, beastkin, and dwarves stood shoulder to shoulder in the line, some shifting restlessly, others standing with the quiet patience of people who had already waited through worse.
He found a place near the back and settled in. For several minutes, no one spoke to him. Kaelan kept his posture loose but his senses sharp. Then the older human man in front of him glanced back over his shoulder. "Long walk?" the man asked. He looked to be in his late forties, with a lined face and the kind of stillness that came from years of watching his surroundings. A faded scar crossed the bridge of his nose. "Name's Elias Crowe. Used to run security for caravans out past the old trade roads."
Kaelan studied him for a second before answering. "Kael. Kaelan Stormfang." Elias's eyes flicked to the scar on Kaelan's cheek, then back to his face. "Wolfkin. East slopes?" Kaelan gave a small nod. "Rough country," Elias said quietly. "Heard the gangs got bold once the black ships started moving. You here for the job, or just seeing what all the noise is about?"
Kaelan's tail gave a single, sharp flick before he forced it still. "I'm here to join." A young catkin woman a few places ahead turned at the sound of their voices. She had sleek black fur and sharp green eyes that seemed to take in everything at once. She looked maybe nineteen or twenty.
"I'm Lira Swiftfoot," she offered with a small, tired smile. "Used to carry messages between settlements before things got too dangerous to travel alone. Figured if they're actually trying to build something that won't just sell us out to the next noble with deep pockets, I want to be part of it."
A broad-shouldered dwarf near the front of their section grunted without turning around. His thick black beard was braided with small iron rings that clicked softly when he shifted his weight. "Thrain Ironfist," he said gruffly. "Smith's apprentice. Got tired of watching good work get claimed by lords who never lifted anything heavier than a wine cup. Rather wear a badge than keep feeding their forges."
Kaelan listened without saying much. Their reasons were different from his, but the same quiet, simmering anger ran beneath them all. The old world had failed them. Now they were standing here, hoping this new one might finally be different.
The line moved forward in slow, uneven steps. Every so often, a small group was called forward to one of the tables set up in front of the Headquarters. Kaelan watched people hand over identification, answer questions, and either walk away with small data crystals or be turned away with polite but firm words.
When it was finally his turn, Kaelan stepped up to the table. The recruiter was a human woman in her early thirties wearing the dark navy uniform of the SVPF. She looked tired, but her eyes were sharp and assessing. "Name?" she asked, stylus hovering over her tablet.
"Kaelan Stormfang."
"Age?"
"Eighteen."
She glanced up briefly, noting the scar and the set of his ears, then returned to her screen.
"Any prior experience with guard work, military, or law enforcement?"
"No."
"Formal education?"
"No."
The recruiter's expression didn't change, but her stylus paused for half a second. "Reason for applying?" Kaelan felt his throat tighten. He had practiced this answer while running through the streets, but standing here in front of the new Headquarters, the words came out rougher than he intended.
"My family was killed when I was sixteen," he said quietly. "A gang. Backed by a noble house that wanted their land and didn't care how they got it. No one stopped them. No one came after them." His amber eyes met hers steadily. "I want to make sure that doesn't happen to anyone else. I'm good at finding things people try to hide. I want to use that for people who don't have anyone else looking out for them."
The recruiter studied him for a long moment. Then she gave a single, small nod and entered something into the tablet. "Medical screening is tomorrow at 0800 at the temporary clinic two blocks west," she said. "Bring whatever identification you have. If you pass medical and background, you'll be placed in the next recruit cohort." She slid a small data crystal across the table. "This has your application number and orientation details. You'll be contacted within forty-eight hours."
Kaelan picked up the crystal. It was warm from the sun. "Next," the recruiter called. Kaelan stepped aside, letting the line continue forward. He stood at the edge of the plaza for a long time, staring down at the crystal in his palm before lifting his gaze to the flag still snapping above the Headquarters building. For the first time in two years, the constant pressure in his chest eased just slightly. He had taken the first real step. Now he just had to prove he belonged here.