Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 76857 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76857 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Gentle in a way Instructor Dirum could never be, I helped those who needed correction rectify their error, patting backs when the kiddos got it right.
This earned me a glare from the older woman.
It was the second time I had served as Assistant Instructor, and I had to admit, it was not as bad as it could have been.
Dirum wasn’t unnecessarily cruel, but she was strict to an extreme.
And I had been forced to tolerate her tirades on what was expected of these children. That gentleness would not help them. A harsh reminder that the academy was a boot camp for children who would be exposed to monsters in a matter of years. And my soft pats were not going to help them when the first vorec charged.
A little girl with far more whimsy than focus was using her sword like some fairy princess’s wand.
Quietly, I whispered, “Emiline, your sword is not a plaything. It is a weapon you must learn to wield properly, or you will get hurt when the vorecs come out of the fog.”
The question was, had I not pointed out the mistake, would Instructor Dirum still have snapped Emiline’s little fingerbone the way she did in the next moment? Or had Dirum noticed it herself?
That would be for Emiline to decide later, when the sobbing and tears were over. Unlike the sisters my age, a five-year-old didn’t have reason to know I was only trying to help. She’d probably never climb into my bed for snuggles again.
This room in the academy hardened a young girl.
It changed our hearts.
We learned young that we were unsafe here. That grownups were dangerous.
That swords were not toys.
I had grown up in this training room, had my pinky fingerbones snapped more times than I could remember, and I could honestly say I despised Dirum. Resented her enough to feel an uncontainable drumming beat pulsate from my chest as my little friend cried.
I couldn’t help it. I was an adult, and every last drop of my female nature demanded I protect children. How on earth Dirum had lost that trait, I could not comprehend.
Yet she stared at me as if I were the one who’d lost my mind.
Fights between females were dangerous for those close enough to get caught in their claws. So, once Instructor Dirum hissed a warning that I better back down, and once I failed to acknowledge it, the kids began screaming, fleeing the room in a wave of chaos, while nearby watchers called in the incident.
Circling one another as if this might escalate, I found I was more than eager to take out my frustrations on someone who had earned it. “Do you remember how much it hurts to have your pinky finger snapped, Dirum? Why don’t I remind you?”
With a level voice, Dirum answered, “You are making a poor choice, Private. Calm yourself down before I am forced to harm you.”
Dirum was larger, far more experienced, and had handed me my ass so many times that I had an idea of how she would attack. So, I prepared for it.
Except the attack never fell.
She tried to speak reason, her chest knocking a clear warning to stand down. “You could do so well if you would stop treating life as a game. These children will die if they do not learn how to defend themselves!”
Existence within the academy was living death already. Why did every moment in these walls have to be filled with suffering? “Beating them will only turn more of them into me. Do I seem stable to you?”
The woman shook herself out of an offensive stance, smoothing her uniform before she responded. “You seem mercenary, thinking only of yourself.”
Desiring a life in the fog may have had some shades of self-interest to it, but when had I even been allowed so much as an hour of freedom? Never. Every moment of every day of my life had been planned by someone else. And I could not be forced to watch this woman break a baby’s fingers! “And you wonder why recruits hate instructors. You’ve been through the academy yet grew complacent with how things are done here! You could have made things better. Instead, you make children experience the same shit you suffered. I’m not breaking the child’s finger for making a correctable mistake. And I won’t let you do it either!”
“Enough!”
The pair of us froze.
I had not heard General Cyderial enter, and it would seem from her flustered composure that Dirum hadn’t either.
Without turning to face the beast at my back, I stood my ground against the woman and shouted, “I meant every word!”
“You’re excused.”
Of course, he wasn’t talking to me—Dirum stalked past with haughty dignity.
The door closed, and the sword training room emptied of everyone, save myself and General Cyderial.
My chest still rattled, but the vehemence of my drum had slowed somewhat.