Chapter 9 #2
We stop abruptly at a large training center.
"In an initiative to use as little material as possible, while still being effective, each cadet will train extensively in hand-to-hand combat. You are expected to pass physical tests before moving on." Wesley's voice echoes as we stand in the large space.
This section of the facility must be original, and they've kept adding to it over the years.
It's made of different materials than most of the other rooms. It's an octagon, its walls slightly curved outwards as it goes up, creating a dome.
Clearly made by a water wielder manipulating concrete.
That kind of power was rare, taking a lot of skill and strength.
There were only a few smaller such structures left in Strayton.
I wonder what the old cities would've looked like.
The royal Capital, I think, is where Zaphira is now, probably in ruins from the war.
I remember hearing something about The Centre originally being a science facility that just grew and grew over the years.
My dad always said there's history hidden in the architecture of New Providence. This must be what he'd meant.
My attention is drawn to the high dome ceiling made almost entirely of glass. Or is that... plastic? It's odd looking, filmed with something that shimmers, so the entire space spills with a stream of dusty sunlight.
There's over a dozen rings around the room, all as large as the boxing rings I've seen in the pits at the Games.
They all seem to have their own stations off to the side, with benches and lockers.
Right at the center of the room is a large pillar, gently mimicking the octagonal shape of the room, but much smoother at its edges.
At first glance it almost appears as if it's holding up the ceiling, but it seems to have another purpose.
It's a lighter grey plastic, and it somehow looks out of place.
"What is that?" I ask, curiosity getting the better of me.
"That torture device has many names. Survive climbing up there and back, and it gives you a leadership role and allows you certain privileges other cadets don't get.
But don't get your hopes up. Very few cadets achieve it, and most just incapacitate or simply kill themselves trying.
There are strict rules about how you get up there.
" He shakes his head like he's shaking away a bad memory.
I wonder briefly if he ever got up, but by the haunted look in his eyes, I doubt it. My brows pull together as my eyes narrow, conveying my interest. He clears his throat.
"The founding Council members built it when New Providence was created.
It represents the first warriors of this land, long before wielding and technology took hold here.
It's said they were a people of nature, specifically entwined with the ancient forests.
The warriors would climb trees upwards of thirty to forty feet in the air to scout the land, and protect their people.
It was a testament to a good and worthy soldier.
When New Providence was formed, they wanted to use it as a symbol of strength.
A homage to what this great continent once was.
That was the thought, anyway." He mumbles the last sentence more to himself than to our group, staring at the great looming pole with bitterness in his voice.
I have more questions, but I decide to put everyone out of their misery and continue the walk. All of us are likely eager to get settled.
We've been walking for over an hour before Wesley finally stops in a courtyard.
Several of the hallways seem to end abruptly, leaving us in an open space connected by sunken sidewalks.
There are two tall slim buildings across from each other and an open area to the right.
A few picnic tables surround the space but it's open and empty other than the entrances to the hallways.
The tall buildings have tiny windows stacked all on top of each other.
"Well, that concludes our tour. We'll see you tomorrow morning for assessments. Men on the right, woman on the left. Good luck with your new bunkmates."
Wesley then nods and scurries back through the hallway towards the other buildings.
Leo waves. "Good luck! Hope your roommate is as hot as you. I'll be visiting often either way!" He gives me the goofiest smile while saluting me, and wanders through the main doors of the men's building with the others.
I smile, shaking my head, hoping whoever he ends up with is kind. I take a deep breath and walk toward my temporary home.
Silently I curse, looking at the winding staircase, realizing I've got to huff up all the stairs. My feet slap the smooth steps, echoing up the hollow stairwell, along with the few others finding their own rooms.
I make it to my room and knock once, feeling awkward. Do I just go in? It's my room too, but I don't know the procedure here.
I hear a "Come in," so I push through.
The dorms are tiny, with the familiar worn greys and greens I'm used to. Two single beds line the walls with a small bathroom off to the right. I glance around and see my roommate lounging on her bed, reading a book.
"Hi, I'm Maple," I say cheerfully, dropping my stuff down on the empty bed.
The stranger sits up as I turn to her.
Of course, I think. The girl across from me is blindingly beautiful. Her dark olive skin offsets her light green eyes, her face framed by silky brown hair cropped just above her shoulders.
The girl nods, not giving away an ounce of emotion, friendliness or otherwise.
"I'm Farra."
I return her nod. "Nice to meet you. Did you just get in today?"
I unpack my things into the small dresser by the end of my bed, noticing she has one too.
"No, last night," she replies.
"Oh, so have you already started assessments?" I ask.
She lets out a breath, like she's exhausted from this bit of interaction. "No, we all start tomorrow. They do it in cohorts, and I guess your group was the last to arrive."
"Oh I gotcha, makes sense... Where are you from?" I ask, hoping the more I know, the easier it will be in close quarters like this.
Farra hesitates, a frown passing over her perfect face. "Look, I'm not really here to make friends. It's less complicated that way. I'll be cordial, but I'm not here to braid your hair, you know?"
I snort. Okay, beautiful and rude it is. What a surprise.
"Noted," I cluck, "and probably for the best. I have very thick hair and it's hard for other people to braid."
Farra considers this for a second.
"Sorry, that came off wrong. I just meant it's easier if we just look out for ourselves." She gives herself a nod, a silent conversation going on in her head. She flops back down on her bed and doesn't offer me any other conversation for the rest of the night.
I lie awake all night, deciding not to be offended by Farra's declaration. It's probably for the best. I doubt she goes unnoticed long looking like that. Better to keep my distance. And she's right––I'm not here to make friends either.