Chapter 35 Shovia
SHOVIA
"Challenging the mind is as important as challenging the body. Without constant pressure, both grow weak."
—Captain Lydia Venkin, Academy Instructor
The tactical formations manual was putting me to sleep.
My eyes glazed over the page without absorbing anything other than the headlines. It was something about flanking maneuvers and optimal approach angles, information I'd known cold two days ago but now kept slipping through the convoluted pathways of my mind.
It was hard to concentrate on aerial combat theory when someone had just tried to murder my best friend for the third time and had almost succeeded. My eyes were drawn to the purple and yellow bruises on her neck where the attacker had tried to choke her to death.
They were wrapped around her throat like a grotesque necklace, the shape of fingers still visible.
My stomach clenched, and I forced my eyes back to my book.
I'd seen those bruises a dozen times today, and each time, I had the same visceral reaction. The same flash of rage and helplessness that made me want to hit something, or better yet, kill something.
I was tempted to offer her my blemish camouflage makeup to cover them up, but I resisted the temptation.
Those weren't pimples, those were marks of the battle she'd won, and she should wear them with pride rather than try to hide them just because they evoked murderous urges in me.
She was curled in one of the armchairs, a manual propped on her knees, with Alar sitting beside her on the armrest, reading it with her.
The truth was that she looked better than she had in a while despite the bruises.
She was less gaunt, and her skin had regained the pretty peach color I had always been envious of.
If I didn't know better, I would have thought that this flat had some healing magic like Kailin had suggested.
Maybe it did?
Or was the magic having her friends around her and feeling safe for the first time in weeks?
"This food is terrible." Morek put the lid back on the container he'd pulled out of the fridge.
He was exaggerating. It wasn't that bad.
The guards had delivered lunch from the main kitchen a couple of hours ago.
Cold sandwiches, some kind of vegetable soup that had congealed into an unappetizing mass, and fruit that was slightly past its prime, which made me wonder if this was how the officers ate.
If so, the first years were lucky to have Darma as a cook.
I missed her.
Were we ever going back to our dormitories?
"It's not that bad," I said.
"It's bland." He pushed the tray away. "No seasoning, no flavor. I could do better with my eyes closed."
"Then do better," I said.
"Maybe I will." He stood, stretching his impressive frame. "There are spices in the cabinet and fresh vegetables in the cold closet. Give me an hour, and I'll make something that actually tastes good."
I wondered who had stocked the kitchen and cleaned the flat for us. According to Ravel, it had never been used because the Citadel hadn't hosted any dignitaries in recent memory.
"You're just looking for an excuse not to study," I murmured and returned to my manual.
"That's true," Morek said. "I'd rather cook than stare at these boring manuals."
"The final exams are in a week, Morek." Kailin looked up from her book. "You can't keep postponing your studies when we are so close to the finish line."
"I know, I know." He returned the container to the cold closet. "But I can only read about weather patterns and wind currents for so long before my brain starts leaking out of my ears."
"That explains so much," Codric muttered without looking up from his book.
Morek grabbed a pillow and tossed it at him. Codric caught it without even lifting his head, which was annoyingly impressive.
I closed my book and set it aside. "We should study together. Form a circle, quiz each other. It'll help everyone, but especially you." I pointed at Morek. "You learn better by talking through things than by reading."
He looked at me as if I were spouting nonsense. "I do?"
"Definitely. You zone out during lectures, but when we talk about tactics in groups, you're sharp as a blade."
The compliment brought a smile to Morek's face. "Sharp as a blade. I like it. I wonder why, though. Lectures are so boring that I can't keep my eyes open, but the topics come alive when we discuss them later."
"Whatever works for you. You should play to your strengths, right?" I moved to the dining table that was more or less the center of the room and gestured for the others to join me. "Come on. Everybody. Circle up."
"Why bother?" Morek didn't move from his spot. "They're going to let us pass anyway. We're the saviors of Aurorys. They can't let us fail. We need to become riders to fulfill the prophecy."
An uncomfortable silence fell over the room.
He wasn't wrong. Ravel had practically said as much this morning—that he and Saphir would be testing us personally, and that we were basically ready. The implication had been clear. Our passage to the Day of Volition was guaranteed, regardless of how we performed on the exams.
Kailin shook her head. "That might be true. But don't you want to know that you earned it? That you passed because you were good enough, not because you were given special treatment?"
Morek grimaced. "It's hard for me, okay?"
"You're smart, Morek," Kailin said. "You just learn differently than the rest of us.
There's no shame in that. But if you coast through on the prophecy's coattails, you'll always wonder.
Every time you fly, every time you fight, there'll be a voice in the back of your head asking if you really earned the right to be there. "
"Fine." He rose from the couch. "Circle it is."
We sat around the dining table, manuals and notes spread before us.
"Where do we start?" Morek asked.
"Navigation," I said. "It's the section you struggle with the most."
He groaned but didn't argue.
We worked through the material, taking turns asking questions and explaining concepts, and I had been right about Morek learning better this way, especially when we framed the boring parts in stories.
I described wind current patterns as a conversation between mountain and sky, and Alar turned navigation calculations into a puzzle.
After a couple of hours of intense studying, Codric stretched his arms over his head. "I have to admit that being stuck in this apartment isn't the worst thing that's ever happened to us."
"Someone tried to kill Kailin two nights ago," I reminded him.
"I said it wasn't the worst. Not that it was good." He turned his head to look at me. "I just love having a private bathroom. No more trudging down the hall to the communal showers, and no more waiting in line while someone takes forever on the toilet."
"There's only one bathroom for the five of us," Alar said.
"I know." Codric sighed as if it were a great hardship. "But it's still better than sharing with an entire floor of cadets."
It occurred to me that the standards of living he was accustomed to were much higher than those of an average Elucian. Most of us had only one bathroom in the house.
"How many bathrooms do you have in your home?" I asked.
Codric hesitated. "Most merchant-class Elurian homes have a dedicated bathroom for each bedroom. So, if it's a three-bedroom home, it has three bathrooms."
I couldn't imagine having a bathroom all to myself, to soak in the tub for however long I wanted, without anyone banging on the door and telling me to hurry up.
"My family's house in Catonia has six," Codric added. "And it's not even considered all that fancy."
Six bathrooms. Even the governor's mansion didn't have so many.
"That's real luxury." I meant it sarcastically, but the truth was that I wanted to experience that at least once.
"I wish you could visit." Codric reached for my hand. "There is so much I could show you."
"I'd like that, but it's not going to happen.
I used to dream about traveling. That was the main reason I wanted to join the Spy Corps.
Operatives travel everywhere. It seemed like the perfect way to see the world.
But riders don't leave Elucia. The Sitorians would love nothing more than to capture a rider. "
Codric squeezed my hand. "I've seen the world, well, just the civilized part of it, and I'm happy to trade it for becoming a rider. There is no greater glory than that."
I nodded. "Being a rider is the highest honor. I just didn't expect it to happen to me."
"Fate had other plans." He lifted our conjoined hands and kissed my knuckles. "And I'm grateful to her."
Across the table, Alar and Kailin exchanged one of their looks, and I wondered if they were thinking about fate bringing them together.
Kailin's expression was wistful and a little sad, but Alar's was something else. It was guilt mixed with determination, and it didn't fit a talk about a couple fated to meet under interesting circumstances.
Perhaps it was about the logistics of their future.
It was obvious that they were serious about each other, but Alar was Elurian from a wealthy merchant family, and his parents wouldn't be thrilled about him marrying an Elucian, no matter how heroic she was.
Kailin's family liked Alar, but they would prefer an Elucian for their daughter.
I couldn't envision a wedding that both families could attend.
Where would they hold it? Who would officiate? Would Alar's parents come to Elucia, or would Kailin have to travel to them?
Except that Kailin couldn't travel now. None of us could. We were going to be riders.
No wonder they looked so glum. Their love story was complicated.
I was glad that things between Codric and me were simple. We enjoyed each other. The physical was good, even excellent, and he made me laugh. Neither of us expected anything more.
It wasn't love. I didn't want it to be.
Love was messy.
Love was complications and sacrifices and pain.
What Codric and I had was clean. Easy. Safe.
I liked it that way.