Chapter Two

“I’ve seen Fire Slugs move faster than you pukes!” Drill Sergeant Taras screamed out. Moirin could barely hear him over the sounds of her own breaths, finding it hard to breathe as the harsh sun hung over them, bathing it in it’s light. She wished the frost from the spring return, the naturally cold climate of Ascea allowing for frost well into the summer, but it seemed Miion hadn’t decided to bless her that day.

Neither did her classmates seem particularly blessed either.

“Move it ladies! If you can’t run in that armor, then you won’t be able to fight Lusus, and that makes you worthless! I don’t waste my time on worthless people!” The man jogged alongside them, his mithril armor clinging to his muscular frame like a second skin. The armor they were forced to wear on the other hand was known as svetli-steel, a heavy suit of armor that was nowhere near as advanced as the one the Drill Sergeant wore. Not to mention the under suit that was worn beneath it to keep from chafing.

All in all, Moirin felt like she was trapped in a furnace as her legs ached. She felt a smile spread across her face as she finally finished the two-mile run, trying not to collapse and failing like her comrades did as they fell to the ground, the other girls groaning and one barely managing to calm her raging stomach.

“Who said you were done?!” The man muttered a vremya spell, a few glowing white numbers appearing along his hand. “We’ve got two minutes of pushups ladies!” A chorus of groans replied back to him but they all assumed their positions, legs off the ground as they continued their training.

They knew what was at stake if they failed.

PT.

Moirin shuddered at the thought. The man was voracious with trying to make sure they were fit. While she understood why he did it, since women, outside of those alchemically enhanced, were usually less physically strong as men, it didn’t stop the burning hatred she had for the man.

She continued on, gritting her teeth as her arms burned. How long had it been she wondered? A minute? She glanced at his hand. ‘Only thirty seconds?!’ She mentally groaned, but continued on.

“Keep going Yerkhova!” One of the other girls, a short brunette, quickly picked up the pace as she became subject to the man’s ire. “If you slow down I will PT all of you till you can’t move another Miion-forsaken muscle in your body!” A few angry glares were sent Yerkhova’s way. Incentive for her to do better.

Because if she didn’t…

Dark thoughts flooded Moirin’s mind. A few spells would teach the other girl a lesson. Nothing harmful, lest she get punished. But a tripping jinx would certainly knock some sense into her. At the very least, the violent thoughts gave Moirin an outlet for her anger as her arms slowly began to lose strength.

Luckily, she didn’t manage to lose strength till the end.

“Well would you look at that! You bunch of pansies actually finished today! And here I was thinking I would get to PT you all!” The man’s cheery grin only made them hate him even more. Which Moirin supposed was the point. “Double time it back to the showers! Breakfast is in thirty minutes, and I expect to see everyone of you there!” The man trotted off, leaving Moirin and her classmates behind.

They quickly made their way to the showers, shedding the heavy armor and stepping underneath the cool water. Moirin let out a sigh of relief as she let it run over her for a minute, before a bar of soap smacked into her back.

She sighed as she picked up the bar, hearing a few of the other girl’s laughing. Probably Valka or one of the other girls, Moirin thought as she quickly cleaned herself. She didn’t wish to stay longer than she had to or else they’d start insulting her and…well, she believed she had enough on her plate already.

“Aw, is the plate gonna cry?” She heard Valka’s haughty tone over the shower, even as she tried to ignore it. She hated that “nickname”, if it could even be called that. It was meant to refer to her figure. Flat all over her body, from her chest to her hips, hence the nickname “plate”. Of course, Valka didn’t have a nickname like that, being that she was so much prettier than Moirin was.

“Bitch.” Moirin mumbled underneath her breath, the girl being careful enough to make sure the other girl didn’t hear her.

“What was that?” The tall girl asked as she loomed over Moirin, the redhead cringing as she turned her head away from Valka. “Thought I heard you say something nasty about me.” The black-haired girl grinned as she looked down at her, a cruel sort of joy in her blue eyes. “You wouldn’t be talking like that to me, would you Moirin? After all, we’re such good friends.”

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“N-no.” Moirin bit her lip as she tried not to meet the girl’s eyes. She wished she could go to the staff, but they had proven useless. While it was generally a meritocracy in the knighthood, as everyone was expected to carry their weight, children of high status were given a bit more leeway. And Valka was the child of a minor lord on the western front, while Moirin was nothing more than a child of a farmer and a wine-maker. No, the staff would never help her.

“No what?” The girl loomed over her, a few of the other girls surrounding her. They whispered horrible things about Moirin. About how she slept around, how easy she was, how…ugly and plain she was. The redhead clutched her arms tightly around her chest, her nails digging into her arms. She wanted nothing more than to jam her thumbs into their eyes, or curse them into oblivion, but the only thing awaiting her for that was prison at best, or being Section Seventy Sevened.

“No Lady Gavrikova.” Moirin winced, practically feeling the smug aura the girl put off. Valka snorted before walking off, a few of the other girls trailing after her, leaving Moirin alone. She let the cool water flow down her hair as she hung her head low, slowly scrubbing all the grime and sweat off.

“I hate you.” The soap started to smush under her tight grip. “We’ll see who’s laughing when I become Demien’s wife. You’ll be begging just to talk to me then.” Moirin glared at the wall, muttering underneath her breath. She wasn’t sure if the other girls had left the locker rooms yet, so she kept quiet.

‘Never know when I’m going to “trip” again’, Moirin grimaced at the memory. Valka was always so good at covering things up and lying through her teeth, the traitorous serpent she was. A few minutes later, she shut the shower off and carefully made her way out of the showers. It was quiet, and as she peaked around the corner into the locker room, empty as well.

Good. That meant she was safe. She let out a sigh of relief as she slipped her school uniform on, the blue knee length skirt and the white buttoned up shirt with a sun-like patch on her left arm fitting her nicely. Her socks and shoes came next, and within a few moments she was fully dressed. She was thankful, as sometimes the girls had gotten ideas and “misplaced” a few of her items.

She bit her lip, nervousness wracking her frame as she took a step out of the locker room. Her eyes glanced left, then right. No sign of them, but Zilya Yerkhova was looking particularly dejected as she walked down the halls.

Moirin could sympathize with her. She too probably bore some of the bullying, but the redhead wasn’t going to help the girl. That would bring more attention to her, and probably end up with her things “misplaced” somewhere in the school grounds or just outright broken. By “accident” of course.

She quickly made her way past the girl as she went towards the cafeteria. If there was one part Moirin particularly enjoyed, outside of seeing her future husband of course, it was the food. As she got closer, she could smell it, the delicious scents wafting down the hallway.

A smile spread across her lips as she made her way into the cafeteria. She grabbed a tray and soon had a nice assortment of fruits and veggies, and some grilled crattlerat. Her eyes looked over the room and saw Demien sitting at the far end of one of the smaller steel tables.

A ping of jealousy filled her as she looked at the people around him. They shouldn’t be there. It should be her there, by his side where she belonged. Instead, she was relegated to just watching because she knew that she wasn’t nearly as beautiful as the girls at his table, Valka especially.

His green eyes met hers for a moment, and her heart stammered in her chest. She could feel the blood rushing to her face, and she stammered out a jumble of words before she turned and saw Tarabai, the foreigner engrossed within a few texts as she slowly prodded the crattlerat with her fork.

The girl raised an eyebrow as Moirin sat next to her, but didn’t seem to mind it too much. Being as she was the closest thing the redhead had to a friend, Moirin was grateful for that.

“I saw you looking over at him.” Tarabai flipped a page. “Do I really need to have this talk with you again?”

“N-no, I j-just…whenever he l-looks at me, my heart just hammers in my chest.” Moirin looked down at her lap, her hands clenched tight into fists. “I c-can’t talk to him and I-“

“Love potion.” Tarabai said. “Just use a First Confession potion. It just amplifies existing traits while giving you a bit of bravery.”

“I can’t just solve e-everything with potions.” Moirin ground out. “If I-I do that, then once the potion ends, I’ll still be a stammering mess.” The girl gulped. She had promised herself she would do more than just watching, because if that’s all she did then Demien would slip through her fingers and end up with some hussy that didn’t deserve him and love him like she did. So, she had to ask Tarabai for her help.

Even get on her knees if she must.

“I need your h-help.” Moirin pleaded, her face downcast. She shouldn’t have to beg, her father always telling her to keep her head up and proud. Or at least, he used to do that before mom died. Then he had changed, seeming to find her repulsive for some reason. “You’re pretty. F-far prettier than me,” She admitted. “So can you help m-me? Please?”

Tarabai was silent for a moment, her eyes looking over Moirin, before she grinned. “I don’t do anything for free. What can you possibly offer me that I don’t have?”

“I’ll d-do your homework.” Moirin replied.

“I already get better grades than you.” Tarabai tone was drenched in smug. “Though I must admit, it is a bit odd to see you so close to me in potions…” Her red eyes lit up in excitement. “Potions…I do need a test subject…”

“F-for potions?” Moirin gulped.

“My love potions.” Tarabai grinned. “Yes, that’ll work. I help you out with your little problem, and you be my taste tester. I’ll even give you one of my First Confession potions. Deal?” The girl extended her hand.

Moirin looked at her acquaintance. Would it really be worth it? To do something that could hurt her just to have a chance at the boy she loved? Her eyes glanced at Demien, his face alight with joy as he laughed. Was it worth it?

Absolutely, Moirin thought as she shook the girl’s hand. She would learn from the girl, and if needed, take a potion to help. She had to win his heart somehow, before someone else stole it from her.

‘Don’t worry Demien.’ Moirin thought as she glanced at him. ‘You’ll be in my arms soon enough. Right where you belong.’