Chapter 18 - Avilyna
Avilyna
WORTH MENTIONING
“The courses at the Institute are divided into five categories. There's training, magic, history, strategy, and discipline.”
“Discipline?” I ask, eyebrow arched, unable to mask my curiosity.
“The others seem pretty straightforward, but that one feels... a little vague.” We continue walking through the woods, the soft crunch of leaves beneath our feet adding to the calm of the moment.
In the daylight, the forest is almost peaceful, bathed in sunlight that filters through the branches, a natural spotlight leading us forward.
“Discipline is the focus of your field, your particular type of ability,” Nalaka explains, moving with a fluidity that seems almost otherworldly as she weaves through the towering trees.
She barely disturbs the fallen leaves beneath her feet, as if she’s part of the forest itself.
The kind of grace I can’t help but admire.
“For example, I am an elf who specializes in combat, so my discipline is Legion. Those not in the Legion focus on either elemental magic, healing, or alchemy. However, Kallahan is dedicated to warfare, but in other kingdoms, they possess different areas of expertise.” I nod, taking it all in, though a piece of the puzzle still feels off.
“So, discipline is the only subject that can be different for every student ?” I ask, trying to make sense of it.
“Exactly,” Nalaka confirms. We finally step into the Institute’s yard, and it doesn’t take long before the differences among the students become apparent.
The Legions are obvious, disciplined, serious, dressed like they’re ready for a fight at any moment.
Their uniforms are armoured with safety vests or tactical gear.
Also, they carry themselves as if they’re invincible.
Then there are the ones in aprons, Healers, I’m guessing, like Sakura.
They’ve got a softer energy. And then I catch sight of a few in what looks like sleek black lab coats, Alchemists.
You can almost feel the mix of science and wonder coming off them.
Controlled, methodical, probably a little explosive if you push the wrong button.
The rest?
Focused on elemental magic and knowledge. But I got shoved into the military program. Clearly, every student leaves the Institute as a decorated soldier, but I would’ve preferred something less physical. They don’t have a special uniform; they only respect the Institute’s trade colour, black.
“Here’s your schedule,” Nalaka says, handing me a piece of paper. “Maybe I wasn’t clear enough, but I’ve volunteered to be your mentor.” I scan over the packed schedule.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I reply, my voice flat as I flick my eyes back to her.
“I’m sure you’ve got better things to do.
” She just smiles, the kind that doesn’t quite reach her eyes but still holds some sincerity.
I scan the paper and feel a chill slide down my spine. The first class starts at 7 AM.
Seven in the morning.
Oh, fuck no.
I am going to die.
Physical training, weapons training, tactical exercises, field exercises… maintenance of equipment and gear? And just when I think it can’t get worse, I see it, night patrols, once a week. Plus all the basic courses on top of that.
“You’re joking! This can’t be legal,” I say, eyes wide as I stare at Nalaka, who just gives me an apologetic smile.
“Don’t worry,” she reassures me, her tone almost too calm. “I’ll be there to help you.”
How comforting. I don’t say anything, I’m too busy reevaluating every decision that led me to this moment. I’ve handled demons, magic, and dimensional rifts, but cardio every day… That might actually kill me. I feel the sting behind my eyes and instantly hate it.
I don’t cry. Not over this, I’m not that pathetic. I take a breath, chin up, shoulders back. Fine, bring it on. But if anyone makes me run laps before a proper coffee, I will kill them.
“Since those idiots didn’t wake you up, you’ve already missed half your classes, and even at the Institute, there’s a certain leniency for the new students,” Nalaka says, her tone light, almost teasing. “It’ll ease you right into it.”
I raise an eyebrow. “That’s one way to spin it.” I fold my arms as she starts walking, and I follow.
The Institute quickly appears, the yard coming into full view, giving access to hallways that stretch ahead. We walk inside, lights coming from the windows. Faint echoes of shouting and shifting weights in the distance guided the path. My stomach sinks.
“Let me guess. We’re heading to physical training.”
Nalaka nods. There’s a flicker of sympathy in her eyes, but no apology.
I respect that, I don’t need anyone sugarcoating reality.
She pushes open a heavy door, and the smell hits me before I even step inside.
Sweat, rubber mats, and cold metal. As the air practically hums with the sound of fists hitting pads and bodies tumbling to the floor.
“Fantastic,” I mutter, stepping inside as the door shuts behind us. “Nothing says welcome like push-ups.”
“Then you’re going to love today’s warm-up.” Nalaka grins as she tosses me a towel from a nearby stack beside what I assume are the locker rooms, judging by the carved drawings on the door.
Okay… maybe I don’t totally dislike her.
The room is massive. Too clean, too bright, and packed with enough training equipment to prepare for a small war. Climbing walls, sparring rings, obstacle courses. Around me, students are buzzing.
Nalaka steps up to the instructor. A tall man who looks like a samurai with sharp eyes, pointy ears and the kind of calm that only comes from breaking bones for decades. He’s dressed in traditional martial arts gear, posture as steel, and his voice a command.
Kai walks in, followed by Wyll. He goes to join the professor, passing me. Not looking in my direction, two strangers. Which we are, but why does it feel like it’s a lie?
A few others, at the corporal level, join them.
“Four rounds of drills before you pair up for combat,” the instructor announces.
Striding in like he owns the floor, which, I guess, he does.
The others immediately break into motion, as if someone pressed play.
I just stand there, trying to figure out where I’m supposed to even begin and hating that I look like a fish out of water.
That’s when I hear the footsteps. The girl is tall, with short black hair, and comes my way like she already claimed victory, on what? No fucking clue. Two others copycat in a different font, are trailing behind.
Great.
“Aren’t you ashamed?” she says, as if we’ve already been in a conversation I missed.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me. I can’t believe you used your dad’s injury to get a head start in the Legion. That’s low.”
I blink, incredulous. “What are you even talking about?”
Crossing her arms, chin high, as if she’s delivering some grand truth, voice dripping with venom.“Everyone knows you didn’t take down a norous alone. Especially not as a mundane who's never even touched Kvirr. You should just come clean before it gets more embarrassing.”
I feel the heat rise in my chest. Oh, she picked the wrong fucking day. I tilt my head, unimpressed.“Why would I lie about something like that?”
She smirks, all smug superiority. “Why wouldn’t you?”
Folding my arms, I match her stare. “Right. Listen, whoever you are, I don't have the energy to entertain your insecurities. And if your whole personality hinges on being jealous of new recruits? That’s just sad.”
Her composure slightly cracks; it’s small, but I see it before she throws her head back, laughing, forced and brittle.“Please. I’m not jealous of a nobody who’s too fat to run from danger.”
My smile sharpens, cold, just shy of dangerous.“Let’s test that theory,” I say, stepping forward. I lock eyes with her, steady and unblinking. “Because if weak insults are your best defence, it’s no wonder you feel threatened.” Her jaw tightens. She’s about to fire back when—
“Enough!” The instructor’s voice cuts through the room like a thunderclap. Everyone stops mid-breath.“You can duel after the drills.”
Duel?
Wait, he’s not going to punish her? Not even a lecture?
Seriously? He saw the whole thing! But everyone falls into motion, some of their eyes still glued to us. My new best friend glares at me sharply, enough to burn a hole through my skull.
Cute.
I turn and head toward the training gear, where Nalaka’s already waiting. She gives me the look like, ‘I saw that whole disaster unfold.’
“Didn’t start it,” I say, not that it matters.
“I see you’ve met Heather,” she adds, like it’s some twisted rite of passage.
“Yeah, and I’d love to un-meet her,” I mutter, grabbing a set of wraps. “Seriously, what’s her problem? Girls like that ruin the whole girlhood thing. It’s like they skipped the day we were all taught basic decency.”
Nalaka stays quiet for a beat, then gives me a knowing look. “She wasn’t always like that.”
I blink. “How do you know that?”
She shrugs slightly, her voice softening. “We grew up together in Elveron. Used to be best friends.”
I stare at her, disbelief creeping into my tone. “Best friends? You’ve got to be kidding me. Because from where I’m standing, she’s nothing but a bully.”
Nalaka’s gaze hardens, something guarded in her expression. “People change. Sometimes it’s the world that does it to them.”
I don’t reply right away. I’m still trying to process that little piece of information. Heather, best friends with Nalaka? Doesn’t exactly add up.
“Yeah, well,” I say, wrapping the bandage around my fist a little tighter than necessary, “that’s not an excuse. We all go through shit, but it doesn’t give you a free pass to be a bitch.” I look up. “Pain doesn’t justify cruelty. It just means you should know better.”
Nalaka meets my eyes calmly. “Maybe… Or maybe pain just shows us who never learned how to cope with it.”
I go still. Not because I agree, not entirely. But… it hits somewhere I didn’t expect.