Chosen

Chapter Three: Nora

Holy Imva this guy is rigid!

“Is the entire court yard’s trees real or replicas? Considering that the trees are sacred.” I then asked.

Master Jillian didn’t answer.

The lift stopped four stories up. We stood on a level with a two light rosy trees, which seemed to have its crowns grown together, welcoming us to its place. Master Jillian leaded us on through the tree gate. It seemed rather peaceful here. It continued with the light rosy trees all the way through, their pink peddles fell off and made the scenery look so beautiful, as if nothing was impossible and there was no trouble in the world.

“Keep up.” Master Jillian interrupted my thinking and peace, but I hurried after him any way. His hands weren’t on his back any longer.

“Where are we going?” I tried without expecting an actual answer from him.

“To the roof,” he said.

“What? Aren’t we going to stay here and do something?”

“Like what?

“I don’t know, training? Aren’t that the reason I’m here?”

“Yes and no.”

“Are you always this simple-answering?”

“Are you always this interrogating?”

“That’s not a bad thing.” I casted the last look at the light rosy forest from the lift leading us to the roof.  The Institute’s roof was designed as a running field. Master Jillian left the lift, as did I, and headed to the field’s start. “Isn’t it dangerous to be up here?”

“Said the girl taken the open lift twice without looking down.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“There’s a longer way down from the levels to the bottom, than from here to first floor.”

“This place has a basement?”

I went back to the lift and looked down. I couldn’t see the bottom, but I could see a hole where the lift fitted through the ground. “More like an underground base, or if you like, a training centre three stories down. We’re safe up here.” I looked back at Master Jillian who pressed various buttons on a device that had risen from the roof.  

“What are you doing?” I asked him pressing the last button before stepping away.

“Welcome to your training, Turner.” That was the first time that Master Jillian had smiled at me, and what I noticed was, he didn’t smile wickedly, more like teasingly. “Let me see how good a runner you are.” His persona had suddenly just changed; I was confused when he then ran off! “C’mon Turner!” he shouted back, “The last one round is a pile of chicken shit!”

“I’m not a pile of chicken shit!” I shouted back at him and ran after him to prove him wrong. By putting one foot in front of the other I chased after Master Jillian. My heart beating faster, the pulse speeding up made me aware that I hadn’t always been a great runner. Turning by the second corner of the roof, I was just a few feet away from overhaul him, when my throat felt like a cactus while panting for air. My veins stopped pumping blood down my legs and replaced it with acid while my heart felt like it had stopped pumping. My lungs began to force coughs up my dessert dry throat. Master Jillian took the lead. Looks like I am a pile of chicken shit. I stopped running. The cactus feeling didn’t leave my throat. I bend over, trying to catch my breath, when Master Jillian patted my back and then stretched me out.

“Bend over and cramp. Make muscles by stretching back.” It sounded rhythmic when he said it. I’d don’t know I had expected him being that helpful. I’d really thought he’d be all bossy and arrogant, but he wasn’t! “Come, come, easy.” After stretching out, and I caught my breath, we started over by running lightly, but Master Jillian wanted me to move my entire body when I ran, so I would sweat. And I did. He made a rhythm I could run to, which made it feel like running like a clock. After five easy runs around the roof he called it. My throat was still a cactus and I wanted to hurl up my breakfast.