I see their point, but they can't see mine. Isn't that the biggest tragedy? When two rights fight and not even one of those rights can progress while the battle is waged?
LoG, 60
Squinty heard the sound of an enormous bone horn.
The collective groaning and moaning of the female Apprentices' voices followed immediately after.
Squinty was, as usual, lying in a hole of hardened clay just below her bed. Her head was on Grizzly's stomach that was lifting and lowering at the rhythmical pace. She was already awake and dressed in a brown training uniform, ready to crawl out at any moment.
The Light of The Leader, she thought. Bah.
Ever since the Trainers appointed her to The Barrack 1, Squinty would persistently ignore the softness of her new bed. She furtively went down the hole with her dog every Dark. Squinty didn't pay attention to Orla, a pale-faced blond girl who was her bunkmate.
Her new cot reminded her too much of the joint cradles with bars, from The Orphanage, in which none of the orphans could rest well. This was how Squinty maintained the illusion. Also, she was accustomed to sleeping with Grizzly.
Her bed was made out of a rough but solid dark wood. Instead of the hard floor of the cradle, she could now rest on a soft mattress filled with straw. The new Apprentices had a pillow only for themselves, and she usually took it down to the hole.
Squinty crawled out from there and rubbed her eyes with both hands. Grizzly opened one eye and waved his hairy tail. She liked this way of Vigil thinking. They were aiming for a continuous association between an animal and a fighter.
The "workday" of The Vigils and The Apprentices was organised in such a way they almost didn't get separated from their dog at any moment.
The large ViewStone glittered on the wooden wall of The Barrack 1 with a clear yellowish colour. In the dormitory of the latest Apprentices, The Light came.
How funny all these girls are, Squinty thought. In The Orphanage, I used to wake up during The Dark, and eat during The Light. Their problem is to get out of bed. Mama's brats, Squinty spat with contempt.
"Hey!" Orla complained sleepily, pulling out of the sheets and wiping her right cheek and nose. "You spat in my face," she groaned. "It's not a good way to start The Light."
"I'm sorry," Squinty said laconically, jumping out on the dusty floor. "I didn't know you'd already woken up. That is, I didn't count on it," she added, teasing. She critically looked at her bunk-mate. The first word that appeared on Squinty's mind was "paper-thin."
Orla seemed like a translucent person, with her transparent skin. Her eyes were so pale green that it was hard to notice the viridescent hue at all. They almost seemed to be entirely white. She had a fragile, yellow webbed hair that reached her shoulders.
It's obvious she is nobility, Squinty snickered.
Among other Apprentices, when they would gather during rehearsals and training sessions, Orla was almost invisible.
Always hunched and intimidated by something, Squinty thought. It's like somebody made her come here. I don't get it. Why doesn't she go back home to play with her dolls? She watched Orla make a bed and dress up sitting on its edge.
Orla rubbed her eyes and sighed. "Oh, this just can't be. I put my tunic on upside down," she sadly pointed at the brown shirt with number 1 at the front. It's their fault; they stitched it together so poorly. It looks like a potato sack, I swear. I don't like wearing this. It doesn't seem stylish at all," Orla complained once more. "I don't even know how to put it on ... "
As Orla rotated the narrow upper part of the garment, turning it left and right, Squinty noticed the flash of a toy and rolled her eyes.
Is Orla hiding a doll under her pillow?
Then she looked at Mr Big Ears, with a frown. Her rabbit was also quietly inhabiting The Barrack 1, buried in a hole.
I can't blame her for something I do too, Squinty admitted to herself.
"How's my hair?" Orla implored. "I always think I combed it well, but you know how these strands are. I swear, it's impossible sometimes. They are so thin that they constantly intertwine. Does it look messy?" she babbled on in a desperate tone of voice. "I would love to pull it up in a ponytail, or in a quick bun, but they don't allow us to use hair ties."
"It's good," Squinty was brief in her reply. She hated that Orla required her to pay attention to such things.
"You really think so? You don't say it just for the sake of saying it? Oh, and yours is absolutely wonderful!" Orla exclaimed, passing her fingers through Squinty's long mane.
Squinty stoically endured it. Such kind of awe did not please her at all.
Orla kept talking, absently stroking the black-and-white fur of her cow-like War Puppy, Jewel. He had already greeted Grizzly joyfully when Squinty's War Dog came out of the hole.
"It's interesting, how come your hair looks so beautiful when ..." Orla lowered her voice. "When you come ... from The Orphanage," Orla ended her sentence in a whisper. "I mean, you didn't have scented oils and herbs for its care as I did in my father's mansion," the pale girl went on speaking in hushed tones.
"Why are you whispering about? That's the fact, and nothing to be ashamed of," Squinty said sourly, heading toward the exit. Orla followed in her footsteps.
Their War Dogs cantered loyally alongside their two Apprentices. They would occasionally glance at Orla and Squinty with a loving eye as the girls advanced towards The Bathhouse.
Grizzly was significantly larger than Jewel, as Orla called her male dog. That didn't stop them from getting along extremely well. The uneven eye colour of Orla's dog created an eerie feeling in Squinty even though Orla claimed it to be "cute."
The brown eye seemed warm and approachable, but the ice-blue pupil looked cold, unpredictable and untouchable.
It's as if there are two War Dogs in one, Squinty thought.
During the Training Lessons, Jewel was the one who had problems with behaviour and obedience. Squinty always thought it was because Orla didn't issue clear enough a command. She wasn't authoritative with the dog. Although their relationship was incredibly strong, and they fought as one, it was a matter of time before Orla would lose control over Jewel.
With that in mind, Squinty halted in front of The Bathhouse. "I don't understand why we have to bathe each Light here before The First Meal." A wooden basin from The Orphanage floated before her eyes, and she shuddered.
"In ... There ... we bathed a lot less," she said.
It was too rare, and this is ... Too often.
But she respected the rules. She wanted to be in The Vigils as long as she could learn something from them. Squinty had no intention of ruining her stay among them. Especially not when she would consider the way she became one of The Leader's soldiers.
"Was it really so terrible ... there? How ... How did they let you go, did you ... Run away?" Orla inquired reluctantly.
Squinty nodded.
"Do you think they can put you back there again? I ... I mean, by law, you belong to The Vigils now but ... Oh, what if they find a way to take you back? Don't you want to discover who your parents were and who left you there?" Orla went on.
Squinty interrupted her. Her head had already begun to hurt from the torrent of useless words that Orla kept firing at her like stones from a sling. "Yes, yes and no, no," Squinty answered all four questions at once.
That'll teach her to be nosy about my life.
Squinty then quickly took her uniform off and remained naked. She blew into the reddish, painful wounds on fingers that still hadn't cured entirely. The original exercises of unarmed fist fighting and Wolfgrik's ever-frowning eyebrows came to her mind.
The old codger. He's like a slave driver.
The Bathhouse was almost empty. Two huge rectangular pools, separated by a wall from a thick bamboo cane, were full of warm, clean water. The message was clear: right–female Vigils and left–male Vigils.
Many Vigils were appearing just now, rubbing their eyes and yawning. The few who had previously arrived were already swimming and making a lot of noise. Their dogs were sitting on the rim, wagging their tails.
Squinty was ready to dive in. She then glanced at Orla, who was still standing at the edge of the pool, fully clothed and indecisive.
Squinty left the pool and came by her side, water droplets sliding from her bare skin. She didn't pay attention to the whistles of young men, or to Orla's face. Her bunk-mate was trying to close her eyes in vain.
Squinty pulled her by the arm. "What are you doing? Take off your clothes and get in! Later, you always go out last, and we arrive late for The First Meal. We always eat the leftovers."
"Cover yourself," Orla whispered. "All male Vigils are looking at you".
"They can look all they want. I'm naked, so what? I'm preparing to bathe! I won't bathe dressed in a uniform. Besides, they are naked too. We are children, Orla! Do we need to go through this every Light?" Squinty sighed.
She could feel the anger coiling deep within her chest, hissing, ready to rear its ugly head and bite with its venomous fangs. "You're always overthinking everything. How do I look, how does this look on me, do I do this, do I do that? ... Can't you just do things?" Squinty went on."Even when you're going to piss, you're thinking about whether you should piss now or wait for me. It's as if you wanna check if I'm in a mood for pissing so that you don't have to go alone," she muttered despisingly.
Then she turned away not to look at Orla. Tears were gathering at an increasing speed in the corners of the blonde girl's eyes; Squinty didn't want to have to witness them.
"Look ... Whatever," Squinty added in a milder tone, realising that she had gone too far. Then she leapt into the cold water without looking back.
A group of the boys lead by a spoiled redhead Odon, whom Squinty disliked, was listening to the whole conversation and laughing.
Orla was still standing on the edge of the pool for Female Vigil, exploring the surface tentatively with the tip of her toe.
Odon sneaked up behind her and removed the upper part of her uniform.
Her pale nude back and her blooming chest flashed in front of everyone. Orla knelt, letting out a quiet gasp. She then covered herself, touching around and searching for her tunic.
"No hard feelings, Transparent," Odon snorted. "I only wanted to help you take off your clothes. I saw you couldn't bring yourself to decide, so I took the liberty of deciding for you."
The time became the ball of yarn that unravelled impossibly fast.
Jewel shifted from the place where he had been sitting quietly until then. A deep growl abandoned his throat. The cow-like dog smashed Odon in his chest with his front paws with all his might.
Odon jerked and staggered backwards. He swerved for a few moments in a pendulum-like movement before falling into dust. Then he instinctively curled up on the ground. He was squealing and hiding his face with his hands. During all that time, a bicoloured War Pup growled above him menacingly.
Orla reacted fast. She pulled on the upper part of the uniform and reached for the dog, horrified.
Then a huge black creature jumped on Jewel before Orla's command could come into force. Smaller, but more muscled, Odon's War Pup, the black female with red eyes, grabbed Jewel by the throat. She twisted her tail menacingly in defence of her Vigil.
Several droplets of water sprayed the sand, and Orla screamed uncontrollably. "She bit him!"
"Your cow attacked me, you idiot!" Odon hissed without raising from the ground, still in fear. "It's normal that Onyx wanted to defend me!"
Several of the elderly Vigils rushed to seek help.
Squinty jumped out of the pool. She didn't bother to look for her uniform. Then she called Grizzly, and they both ran towards the scene.
She leapt on the back of the maddened black bitch, decided to rein her in. Grizzly used the advantage of his size and weight, skillfully pushing Jewel further and further away from the battlefield.
This allowed Orla to approach him and calm him with the touch of her hand. "Quiet, quiet. Shhhhhh. It's okay. It's okay, boy. It's okay." Orla whispered in a quivering voice. Her embrace clung to the body of the pup that was shaking uncontrollably. Jewel's gums were still showing two sets of needle-like teeth.
Squinty was bouncing on the trembling back of Odon's dog for a few moments. Nobody dared to get close to a black War Pup or do anything, now that Onyx was almost entirely out of control.
Then the booming, cursing voice echoed The Bathhouse: "Just what do you think you're doing, you little wretched thing?"
Wolfgrik.