34. Ahmina
AHMINA
The Academy library was the largest space in the main castle, rivaling the Great Hall in beauty and grandeur.
Its marble shelves, stuffed with books of all shapes and sizes, rose four stories high.
Moisture-absorbing vines traced the shelves’ ledges, keeping the books mold-free.
Beyond their practical use, the crawling tendrils gave the library a peaceful, artistic feel.
It reminded Ahmina of Central Library. She missed it and Elder Muaka dearly.
The library was quiet, but a small group of students sat a couple tables down, laughing.
She had spent every waking hour outside of classes here, studying as much as she could.
She was up to date on all of the assignments she had missed while in the infirmary, but even after putting in hours and hours of study, her grades still suffered.
Frustrated, head pounding, she threw a book on the floor and slumped over in her seat.
If she didn’t get it together before the second assessment…
she didn’t want to think about what would happen to her.
It was well known that students didn’t leave the Academy unless it was as a Defender, dead, or worst-case scenario, a disgrace.
The embarrassment of it all would be worse than death, she thought, as she buried her head in her hands.
This was her life’s goal, and she was failing at it.
She tried to steady her breathing, but her lungs rebelled, leaving her gasping for air.
Everything felt wrong, too hot and too cold all at once.
She felt like she was dying. Was she dying?
Panicked, she stood up and searched for an exit that didn’t lead back into the hallways.
Wasn’t there a door to outside from here? She needed air. She couldn’t breathe.
“Hey.” A hand touched her arm.
Lennox. The last person she wanted to see.
She was flooded with guilt, shame, and embarrassment about what happened between them during her first assessment.
Just the thought of it made her anxiety spike, and tears prickled her eyes.
She knew she needed to say thank you but she wasn’t ready to face him yet.
How do you even say thank you to someone for saving your life?
For sucking venom out of your blood!? How could words possibly be enough?
Lennox looked her in the eyes and placed his hands on her shoulders. “Breathe.”
“Go away,” was all she could get out between gasps. She didn’t want him to see her like this.
“Come on. Breathe,” he said again.
Ahmina fought for air. “I can’t!” The room was shrinking around her, the pressure of it all silently crushing her lungs. Her chest was so tight, it felt like it had a stack of books resting on it. She had to get out. Now.
“Look at me,” Lennox said, and lifted her chin to meet his gaze.
Ahmina did as she was told, studying the same kaleidoscope of eyes she met in the Library of Jarrah.
“Breathe with me. One in…” He sucked in a breath slowly.
“And out.” His breath ruffled her hair. Ahmina copied his movements, despite her pride.
“Do it again with me.” He nodded, guiding her along, and Ahmina matched his breath over and over until the panic subsided enough for her to catch her breath.
“Sorry I—”
“Ahmina.”
“—I don’t know what happened.” She shook her head, cheeks salty and wet from tears. What was wrong with her?
“You’re okay. Say it back to me.”
“I’m okay,” she said, even though she didn’t believe it. She let out another deep breath.
Lennox let go of her shoulders and put his arm around her. “Let’s get your stuff and get some fresh air.”
She let Lennox lead the way, as he repacked her book bag and shepherded her out of the library, through the hallways, and into the courtyard. The fresh evening air was cool on her face, and it immediately calmed her.
“I’m okay,” she repeated, mostly to herself. Finally, she was breathing semi-normally again despite the lingering tightness in her chest.
The concern that had been written all over Lennox’s face in the library was gone, replaced by his typical casual expression. He sat on the top of a garden table and lit a smoke.
“What are you doing?”
“It’s just sweet tea; want some?”
“No.” Ahmina didn’t smoke. She studied. She read. She excelled in school. Well, normally she excelled in school. Here at the Academy, she just seemed to fail. She chewed her lip.
Lennox looked up at the sky but didn’t say anything.
The night was silent, weighted with everything unspoken between them. She needed to be honest, but the humiliation of it all made her feel so incredibly small. “I’m failing,” she admitted instead, because she didn’t have the strength in her to say anything else.
Lennox eyed her, smoke flowing in and out of his mouth like clouds. “You’re brilliant, Ahmina; you know you are.”
“Then why can’t I seem to get it right? Why do I study for hours on end and still fail every assignment we’re given?
Second assessments are imminent, and I still can’t create a simple potion.
It’s like, I study the instructions until my eyes bleed, and then suddenly when I do it, I can’t remember what to do, like my brain gets foggy.
Not to mention, I get my ass kicked every day in Combat training no matter how much I practice.
And with what happened during… well… now I’m even more behind. ”
“You’re doing well in Strategy, no?”
She was. Kind of. It was the only course she was half decent at.
Probably because it required her to think in the moment and not memorize anything new.
But if she didn’t turn things around quickly, her time at the Academy would be over before it even really started.
She would have to return to the life that she had spent years working to escape.
This was her chance to have a completely different life, a more honorable life, and it was slipping through her fingers.
Somewhere in the distance she heard students talking and laughing. Must be nice to not have problems, she thought, envious.
Lennox leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and a loose wave of hair fell on his brow.
“You know what, screw it. Give me that.” She grabbed the rolled herb out of his mouth and inhaled quickly, before she could change her mind.
Lennox’s eyes were locked on her lips as he watched her take in the sweet smoke.
He shifted slightly, looked away, and cleared his throat.
It was the only time Ahmina had seen him look remotely uncomfortable.
She handed the herb back to him, coughing into her other hand.
“Sorry,” she said, looking down at the ground. “For what happened in the library. I–I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“You never have to say sorry for that.” Lennox took the herb from her gently, his hand lingering on hers.
She felt so stupid. And Lennox was the last person she wanted to see her in such a state.
She wasn’t this girl—the one who was always a mess, in need of saving.
It was Anastasia that taught her the importance of self-reliance, and Muaka the importance of a strong mind.
And here she was, foggy-minded and weak.
The sweet herb calmed her, but it wasn’t strong enough to remove the deep shame that had made a home inside her, growing roots into her soul. She rubbed her temple.
“Sometimes… I feel like I’m never going to live up to Ren’s achievements. I mean, he only just graduated last year and he’s already better than most, if not all, Defenders.”
Ahmina swallowed, listening intently.
“Ren and I grew up together, and sometimes I feel like I’m living in his shadow. So…” He looked her in the eye. “I know what it’s like to feel like you’re working your ass off and nothing you do is good enough. And… I failed my first year here too,” he admitted. “Not everything, just Alchemy.”
She looked up at him. “You did?” How was that possible?
“Yep,” he said with smoke in his throat, smiling.
She eyed him suspiciously. “You never told me that.”
“Why would I? You barely talk to me.”
“You have enough girls who want to talk to you. I’m too busy for that.” She had seen the way girls looked at Lennox, trailing him down the halls.
A small laugh came out with smoke, and he shook his head as he turned back up to the sky. “I don’t want to talk to them. I want to talk to you.”
Ahmina’s stomach danced. “Why?”
He pulled in another lung-full of herb. “Your mind is unique. You see things differently than most people. I like that.”
Right now, all she saw was her own demise.
“Thanks?” Ahmina didn’t know what to say to that, so she watched him thoughtfully, taking the roll from his hands.
She felt like she was getting access to another side of Lennox, one he didn’t show to the rest of the world, and she relished it, suddenly appreciative of him.
She softened, fighting the urge to reach out and hug him.
They finished smoking in silence, looking at each other occasionally and smiling. The cool night air and Lennox’s laughter made her feel lighter than she had in ages.
“Thanks for…” she was uncertain of what to say, but she wanted him to know how much she appreciated his confession. Because it did make her feel better. “Thanks for sharing that with me. It means a lot.”
They sat there for a moment in silence, a shared understanding bridging between them, before he snuffed out the roll and popped up from the table. “Come on, stress case, let’s get you to bed.”
When they finally made it back to the dorm, she spun to look at Lennox, planting a kiss on his cheek before she could overthink it. The sweet tea herb had made her relaxed and reckless, but she was too exhausted to care. For once, she just wanted to feel, not think.
“Thank you for what you did, in the forest.” Finally saying it made her feel raw and exposed.
“Try to stay away from Vipers next time, yeah? I prefer to use my mouth for more… enjoyable things.” His eyes flared, causing her cheeks to flush.
“Let’s never talk about this again,” she said as she turned to face her door, sliding her key into the lock. Lennox grabbed her arm gently, prompting her to turn back around. His lips were inches from hers.
“Night, stress-mina.” Ahmina could barely focus on his words. The way his eyes travelled over her face made her feel electric, and many, many more emotions she preferred not to acknowledge.
“Goodnight, Lennox.” His name dragged from her lips, only a whisper.
And with his usual lopsided grin, Lennox nodded and walked backwards down the hall. She was about to enter her dorm when she heard his voice. “Hey, if I can turn it around, so can you. And if you need a study partner, you know where to find me.”
He jumped to tap a wooden beam in the ceiling like he had just won a race, and Ahmina watched his back disappear down the hallway.
For the first time since she had arrived at the Academy, she felt hopeful. Maybe Lennox was right. If he could turn it around, so could she.
She slept well for the first night in weeks.