The next morning, I'm barely able to lift myself out of bed. My head feels heavy and my legs don't want to respond to my commands. I manage, though. It's not sunrise yet. I still have time to clean up before rushing to classes. I grab some clothes and run to the end of the hallway where the cleaning rooms are. This room screams electricity. I can smell it in the air. The machines in the corner that I have little idea how to use are washing clothes. I make my way to the waterfall stalls that allow me to scrub off all the grub I have accumulated throughout the week. I'm not used to having to clean myself except for my fins, being that I always lived underwater. I don't take long, just wash my body and run some water through my hair. It's tangled and matted. I run my fingers through it to help, putting it in a small design we use underwater to keep our hair neat.
Finally, I'm dressed and ready to go. Dashing outside, my feet making heavy footfalls, I meet our little group at the entrance to the Palace. Many Trainees are making their way inside while a minority are heading towards the mills. That's where Zen and Martin will be heading this morning, but they wanted to meet us all before going there.
"Isn't this exciting?" Tria squeals. "We are finally starting Training!"
"I do not like getting up this early in the morning," Zen mutters aggravatedly. "I never wish to do it again."
Tria pats his shoulder. "Don't worry, airhead, you got a whole year ahead of you!"
Zen glares at her.
"Come on," Hera says. "It's almost sunrise. We all need to get moving."
"Good luck everyone!" Clarisse yells, already walking towards the Palace, Mire following.
We all part ways. None of us have the same classes today. This morning is my first class. Simple Defense I. Among all the subjects Loken addressed during his speech, he also mentioned where each range of class would be in the wings of the Palace. Defense, Weaponry, and Survival are all in the left wing. Specialty classes are in the center. The rest are in the right wing. I turn to my right, looking for the classroom matching the label on my schedule. I didn't find it until I walked out onto the sparring grounds.
There was a group of about 50-100 Trainees. They all are speaking to each other, growing louder by the second. They all have an aura of excitement. Some have an aura of danger. I keep clear of them, in case they are Fires. I have one Fire on my tail, the last thing I need is more. I bring my attention to the front of the sparring grounds and spot the teacher. He's an older man, maybe a little taller than me. His hair is slicked back, but his eyes hold raptive over the crowd of students. I keep my eyes on him until he addresses the crowd. He does so just as the sun crests the horizon.
"Good morning, Trainees!"
His stern voice filters through the clamour of the Trainees with ease, like water flowing over rock. It falls silent within seconds, every eye paying attention to the man walking through the direct middle of the crowd. His grey eyes scan the potential of each student. When he reaches the front, he turns and calls, "The girl with her hair in a braid and the boy with the scar on his cheek just below his eye, come foreward."
I watch as the crowd looks around for the people he called out. I watch as a tall boy walks from the front of the crowd, coming to stand at attention next to him. It's the Fire boy. He looks over the crowd and waits to see who the other person is. I'm too busy watching him, to make sure he doesn't see me, to realize the teacher is staring at me.
"I called you once, I'll not call you again!"
I jump at his voice. Turning, I ask, "You were referring to me, sir?"
"Do you not have your hair in a braid?"
"I do, sir."
He grunts. "Come up here. I'll let this failure to comply slip because it is your first day."
Chapter 8- Twisted
Start from the beginning
