Chapter 3 #2
The weaver did an incredible job of bringing it to life. The goblet of muted gold looks tangible enough to grab onto, filled with dark crimson liquid that appears realistic enough to slosh over the brim. An onyx snake wraps itself around the stem, with a penetrating and genuine stare of dissent.
Tearing my eyes away from the lifelike image, I sidestep through a few prospects to where Finnley is talking with a petite girl who’s sporting a platinum asymmetrical cut. It’s different but really suits her. He must have heard me approaching because he looks up and waves me over.
“Hi again,” he says with his signature lopsided smile. “I was just telling Mallory how this place was built over seven hundred years ago as a place of sanctuary and refuge, around the time the wraiths started descending on Salaryan and making our lives hell.”
She watches every move his mouth makes. I see it, but I’m pretty sure he is completely oblivious. When she pulls her stare away from him, her large, catlike eyes land on me. She leans closer, extending her delicate hand for an introduction.
“Nice to meet you, Nori. Finnley was telling me a bit about how you two became quick friends on the journey here,” she says. “Although I have to admit, I’m not sure it’s a great idea to make friends just yet.”
At my confused expression, she continues, “You know, until we figure out our respective regiments. It just doesn’t make sense to start a friendship that isn’t going to remain past the end of the week.”
She’s not wrong.
Truth be told, there are various reasons making a friend this early on is a bad idea. But that’s a big one. Veils and Noctryns will never be on friendly terms.
“Solid point,” I agree, leaning up against the wall. The throbbing in my knee has intensified. As soon as we get to the privacy of our rooms, I’ll have to assess the damage. It feels sore just to stretch it out in front of me, and that doesn’t bode well for the upcoming week.
Finnley’s eyes track my movement, catching on quickly.
“Well, ladies, it looks like the last straggler just made their way in. We should head to the front. I’m sure the lieutenant will be needed,” he says with a corny wink my way and a heavy emphasis on the word lieutenant. I appreciate him providing the distraction, though.
Grimacing, I push off the wall and follow him and Mallory.
Two of the captains head in different directions, taking the other two groups with them, and one walks ahead of us.
It’s impossible to tell whether it’s the same person who was talking to us earlier.
They all look identical except for their weapons, but I wasn’t paying close enough attention to know who had what.
Mallory drops back, weaving her arm through mine. I glance down at our now joined arms. What happened to not making friends this early on?
“I’m so excited for tomorrow. I’m pretty sure I know where I’m going to place,” she singsongs as we push forward, following the captain.
I’m pretty sure I know where I’m going to place, also. There isn’t another option for me. My mother was a Veil, and her mother before her. So I either place accordingly, die trying, or she may very likely kill me herself.
Wet boots smack against the stone floors as we follow our silent, fuck-with-me-and-I’ll-gut-you guide.
I, for one, would not fuck with him, seeing as I don’t have a death wish.
I’m also suddenly very aware of the sheer magnitude of the academy.
It would be so easy to get lost in the maze of hallways and dark passageways, and while he may not be pleasant, he knows his way around.
We clearly do not.
We pass a couple of classrooms and lecture halls before climbing a few staircases until we arrive on the third level.
Annoyance seems to just drip from our dark guide as he stops and has to wait for the entire group to crest the stairs.
I wonder if he lost a bet or pissed off some higher-up and got stuck with tour duty.
The corridors on each side stretch endlessly, long and dimly lit, with cathedral ceilings. The smell of candle wax and damp air lingers around us.
Shivering, I peel off my wet cloak as we wait.
I still have about two more layers of soggy material on, but there’s nothing I can do about those.
It doesn’t help that the academy walls are stone throughout, causing the cold to permeate straight through my bones, especially in the long hallway where we’re standing.
The numerous windows do absolutely nothing to keep the draft out.
I try to distract myself and trace my finger through the condensation coating the nearest arched pane.
It’s cold to the touch and recondenses almost instantly.
There are mounted candelabras on each side of the window that flicker with warm light, creating shadows that look like things that aren’t really there.
The exhaustion from today is causing my mind to play tricks on me.
A deep, familiar voice echoes throughout the hall and pulls me out of creeping myself out.
Seems like luck just isn’t on my side tonight.
They may all look identical, but I’m betting they don’t sound it.
“You’ll bunk with a teammate for the first week of Asylamation in one of the rooms in this hall.
” He looks left, then right, as if we might not be able to come to the assumption on our own that there are rooms on both sides.
“Once you survive and place into either dark or light, Veil or Noctryn, whatever you’d like to call it, you’ll be moved to the quarters associated with that regiment,” he says.
“You’ll then be assigned to your final roommate for the remainder of the academic year,” he drawls in a bored tone like he wants to be anywhere but here.
It’s still incredibly frustrating that I can’t see who’s behind the visor.
Everything is covered, even his hands. Speaking of hands, the gloves covering his look as if they’re specially crafted or something.
I’ve seen him have way too much flexibility within them while cracking his knuckles more than once on this little tour.
I bet he’s still able to have a solid grip on his weapon during fighting without them being overly cumbersome.
I want a pair.
Pulling my gaze away from his gloved hands before he thinks I’m some kind of weirdo, I look around at the people surrounding me, wondering who I am going to be bunked with this week.
I have no idea if it’s coed or not, so if we can pick, I’m picking Finnley without a doubt.
The worst thing that could happen is for him to get a glimpse of my backside while I’m changing. Honestly, the least of my concerns.
I nudge Finnley in the side. “If we can pick, are you game to share?” I ask under my breath.
“Yeah, just don’t try to make any moves on me in my sleep,” he retorts out of the side of his mouth.
I snort. “You wish.”
A sullen expression passes over Mallory’s face as she watches our exchange. There’s no need for it. I’m rooting for her to bag her man, just not tonight. Tonight, I want a solid sleep with no visitors in my roomie’s bed. He doesn’t strike me as the quiet type.
The captain points and curls a gloved finger in my direction.
Shit.
I bet he saw me staring at his hands.
Sighing, I do my best not to limp as I walk toward him.
“Lieutenant, there are thirty-three prospects in your bracket. There will be two in each room, leaving someone to bunk alone.”
Crisis averted, he didn’t see me ogling him.
Also, I should jump at the chance to have my own room. I make a mental note to examine why exactly I am not doing that at a later time.
He does that eerie head tilt again, as if he’s waiting for me to say something.
“Okay, sounds like a plan,” I respond. Lamely.
I don’t know what it is about these Noctryns, but they make it hard to think clearly.
They’re intimidation personified. I really hope the Veils are just as formidable when we see them tomorrow.
I’ve only ever witnessed them in the military passing through, but never as students.
I’d be disappointed if the regiment I’m destined for isn’t just as foreboding.
It would have never occurred to me for one second that Noctryns could be so dangerous before even leaving the academy.
“Assign pairs gender specific,” he orders while crossing his arms and widening his stance. “Now is as good a time as any to mention a fun little rule here at Kintoira,” he says while leaning forward to get closer to me before whispering through his helmet. “No fornication for the first-years.”
I can’t see it, but I swear I can feel the satisfied smirk on his face.
“The academy doesn’t like distractions for the prospects. Focus on not dying and being good enough that the academy deems you worthy enough to place.”
Is it just me, or was there an edge of bitterness to his voice during that last little remark?
This will be fun to break to my bracket. He’s definitely making it easy for them to hate me early on.
An upperclassman in full black gear, matching my new surly friend here, walks up on our right. I didn’t even hear him coming up the steps, which is kind of disconcerting. “Makon, they’re ready for us,” he says to our guide.
So he does have a name. Makon. For some reason, it’s fitting.
He gives a curt nod in response before advancing toward me. “Good luck, Nori, you’re going to need it. You all are.”