“Hey, yeah, I know you. I mean, I’ve seen you around,” I mumble.
She nods.
“Cool.”
An awkward pause follows, and I scan the room quickly, trying to think of what to say. “You’re going to be put into a division this term, too, right?” I ask. She doesn’t seem rude, one of those who kept her business to herself and her small, tight-knit group of friends.
She nods. “Yup, and I think it’s why we’re put together since we won’t be in these rooms long,” she grimaces. “I had a room to myself last term since my old roommate moved to Third Division.”
She’s nice, and I’m grateful for it, but I’m not sure she’ll appreciate it when I wake her up with my random nightmares. My last roommate hated it, and the one before that was even worse, but she was put into a division in the middle of last year, and I had been incredibly happy.
But for now, Anna’s positive attitude makes me feel a little at ease, and I smile, closing the door behind me.
“Oh, that makes sense. I wonder where Carrie moved to,” Imuse.
Anna pauses from whatever she’s writing and swivels in her chair. “You haven’t heard?”
“Heard what?” I ask, placing my suitcase on my bed.
Anna looks uneasy before she glances at the window, and then at me. “Uh, she was killed a few days ago. Her pack was attacked by a wraith.”
I freeze, my heart thundering as I turn and look at her, the words sinking in. Carrie’s dead!
Gods…
Wraiths are one of the things that slipped through the veil in the last year. They are terrifying since they’re so hard to kill, especially if they’ve taken a name, but luckily, most don’t.
“I’m sorry,” Anna says, probably assuming we were friends from my silence.
We weren’t. She didn’t like me and enjoyed making my life as miserable as possible when she could, but still, knowing she’s dead is upsetting.
I sit on my bed, staring at the ground. Anna shrugs, returning to her notebook.
Crawlers once plagued my dreams before they made their first appearance, and shortly after Dad’s death, I dreamt of manananggals. We’ve not run into any here in England, but shortly after that dream, several European countries had many attacks by them. And wraiths, I dreamt of them a few months ago. I knew what they were since Uncle Leo and Azura had dealt with them several years ago.
Sighing, I tug my hood off and comb my fingers through my curls, massaging my scalp.
Anna remains at her desk studying away, and I notice the coloured lines on her uniform that’s folded on the shelf beside her bed, confirming what I wasn’t too sure about. She’s Luminara.
The room itself is a decent size. We both get a bed with a desk beside it. In the centre, between the two desks, is a window. The wardrobe is beside the door, and we have a shelf at the bottom of the bed. A small adjoining bathroom for us to share leads off from her side of the room.
I begin unpacking, thinking about Carrie before I leave to go meet up with the girls. Classes will resume in the morning, and that will mean morning till night. We’ll be worked so thoroughly there won’t be much time to loiter around.
The following morning, sleep still tugs at my eyes, and I fight it with everything as I stand in line, as we shuffle towards one of the few training halls that we have.
I hope it’s not a session with other years. The more the people, the worse I feel. I hug myself, sinking into the oversized hoodie that I’m wearing over my training uniform, which consists of grey fitted pants and a fitted high-neck turtleneck with short sleeves. There are a few bands of silver running through the fabric along the seams, the colour of my Path.
These training clothes can go through hell and still survive. Saves us a lot of money in clothes, I guess. They were rolled out in the middle of last year, courtesy of Schattenblüte, the company that makes state-of-the-art clothing and armour forcombat. It’s nice, but it fits you like a glove, and everyone may hate me for saying this, but the boys definitely enjoy seeing the girls fight on a mat, and we all know why.
Pervs.
“Shame you’re all covered up there, Rossi,” one of the boys from my year whispers as he brushes past me roughly. “We all know you’re going to lose in seconds, but hey, seeing you thrown around that mat is super fun,” he snickers, and I simply cast him a glare before looking away.
See? That’s what I mean.
“Anyone want to bet on how long Rossi will last?” someone else adds snidely, making several other people laugh. I make the mistake of looking around and see how many people are masking their smiles. Only because I am a Rossi… or things would be so much worse. I’m here amongst those considered the strongest of our generation.
I finally manage to squeeze through the doors and feel like I can breathe when I spot a couple of young men walking past wearing black. Black clothes that are extremely similar to mine, but black means they are assigned into divisions. Heaven and Allie will start off in white, then move to grey, where I am right now, not in a division and not a newbie. Boy, will Allie hate wearing white.
