The next morning Iris awoke to the sounds of hushed sobbing. She opened her strained eyes glancing around for the source of the sound. Her blue eyes peered to the other side of the room towards Joss and Edalia’s bunk only to notice Edalia sat at the edge of her bed holding her hands up to her face, crying.
“What are you whining about?” Iris muttered in her half conscious state.
Edalia heard Iris’ cold voice mutter from her side of the room. Edalia sniffled and held back her sobbing. “Sh-shut up bitch.” Edalia said with a sniffling hiccup to her voice.
Iris turned her head with a flash of anger sparked in her eyes. She jumped out of bed in her undergarments and walked across the room barefooted towards Edalia who simply stayed seated on the edge of her bed, watching as Iris approached.
“I will rip your throat open if you call me that again.” Iris said calmly.
Edalia stared at Iris for a moment. Edalia could tell from the expressionless gesture on her face that she was being serious. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. I just can’t sleep…” Edalia explained.
“Sad your friend was kicked out so soon?” Iris said condescendingly.
“Joss didn’t know that was a test. If she had known I’m sure she would have passed…” Edalia said sternly, trying to control the stifled hiccups that came with her sniffling. “But that's not what I was referring to. I can’t sleep because of what happened yesterday. The aberrants. I can’t get them out of my mind…” Edalia said, lowering her head.
Admittedly Iris had trouble sleeping last night for the same reason. She couldn’t get her mind off of the aberrants and their existence. Iris had grown up believing Black Bloods were always fiendish looking creatures that skulked in the night. She never once imagined the Veiled Ones could be living amongst them. “Oh those things.” Iris said with a lack of emotion to her tone.
Edalia lifted her head out of her hands to look up at Iris, noticing the dazed expression painted on her pale face. “You’re afraid too aren't you?” Edalia said standing up from the bed. “I can see it on your face!” Edalia’s face lit up as she spoke.
Iris shook her head ‘no’ while a rush of embarrassment came in the form of rosy red cheeks. Iris tried to hide her face, backing away from her roommate. “No. I’m not afraid.” Iris’ voice broke the more she tried to deflect.
“It's ok to be scared, Iris. I won’t judge you.” Edalia said, reaching out to Iris to place a caring hand onto her shoulder. However, Iris violently yanked her shoulder away from Edalia and met her gaze with a glare despite her soft blue eyes. “I can’t afford to be scared. The last time I was scared, I got people that I cared for killed.” Iris spoke out clearly so she was not misheard. “Never again.”
Her words were met with silence, Edalia didn’t know what to say in response. Iris softened her glare and let out an audible exhale. The huntress turned on the heels of her bare feet and went back to her bed, hoping she could get some sort of sleep before it was time to muster.
Some time had passed and a loud knock could be heard coming from the door. It was Khalia. It was time for everyone to meet at the mustering grounds. “Everybody up! Do not be late to your first day of training.” Khalia could be heard shouting as she moved from room to room down the corridor.
Iris was awoken by the loud thudding of the knocks at her door. She opened her eyes sleepily and turned her head towards Edalia’s side of the room, noticing she was dressed and ready to go. She was doing the final preparations to her outfit by tucking the white tunic she had on, into her trousers. Edalia smiled to herself but shortly noticed Iris was looking at her. “I’m sorry for waking you up earlier.” Edalia said simply before turning and walking out of the dorm and into the hall.
Iris said nothing and stared as she walked out of the room. Once she was alone she took her covers off and began dressing herself with a similarly fashioned white tunic and brown trousers. The clothes felt loose on her but it was all that they had, and Iris was not one to complain.
Once dressed, she took a deep breath and stared at the door that led out to the hall. “Never again, Iris.” She whispered to herself briefly. Iris took a moment to collect herself and stepped out of the room, making her way to the mustering grounds.
The sky was a dark blue color with a touch of orange and yellow streaks painted across it. The sun was just beginning to peak out of its horizon as the Initiates each lined up exactly the same as they did yesterday. Iris joined the same row and waited in formation for the training to start. Unlike last time however, the initiates did not have to wait long for someone to appear.
Coming from the path behind the hedges that led to the Citadels main entrance were two wardens. One of the wardens was a familiar face, it was Khalia dressed in a leathered tunic with small golden clasps to hold together. Under the tunic was a long sleeved white shirt that held tightly onto her arms. Below the waist was a little more basic with a simple black trouser and boots with a piece of blue cloth wrapped around her waist.
Walking alongside her was a figure dressed from head to toe in full wardens armor.
The armor was a shining silver with engraved dragon designs twisting around the right arm down to the gauntlet. Blue dyed cloth hung from around the waist of the armor flowing freely behind the figure that walked beside Khalia. Around the figure’s neck was a blue half cape draped onto a single shoulder. Finally, the helmet of the Warden consisted of its signature five vertical slits carved across the helm, making it easier for visibility while also providing much needed protection for its wearer. In this case however, it was difficult to see the person's face.
The two walked across the field and made their way to the formation standing in front of the initiates.
“Good morning Initiates. I am Khalia Metamin, soon to be paragon. I will be assisting in your training for the next three months.” Khalia paused and gestured to the armored figure standing beside her. “This is Paragon Scar. He will be providing the training and will decide whether you graduate or not.” Khalia explained as she ran her eyes along the crowd of initiates, stopping her gaze at Iris.
“If you fail, you will be sent home like the others,” Khalia said, referring to the dozens of initiates that were sent home last night.
Scar walked forward to the first column of initiates. His presence was almost frightening for the young recruits who stared at the masked man, unable to see his face. Scar glared at several of the initiates in the front row as if remembering their faces. “Our enemy is relentless and vicious. We must be even more relentless and even more vicious. My plan is to mold you all into exceptional warriors. Ones that deserve the title of Warden.” Scar said, pacing back and forth along the columns of the initiates.
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“But you must earn that title first.” Scar said, walking back to Khalia’s side giving her a single nod of his head. Once in place he cupped his gauntlets together holding them to the bottom of his back and watched.
Khalia saw the nod and took one step forward, pulling out a piece of scrolled parchment from her pocket. She unfurled the parchment and grazed her eyes along its scripture. She took a moment to read the words in her mind before reading them out loud.
“In my hands I have a list of names that will be called out by group. The groups that form here today will be the groups you train, graduate, and fight with from now until your last day of duty as an initiate.” Khalia took a moment to clear her throat and wet her lips. “Is that clear?” Khalia yelled out loud enough for the last column of initiates to hear.
In a loud and rousing cheer, each column shouted out their acknowledgment of what they were going to be expected to do.
“Fantastic. Once your names are called, you will meet with your group.” Khalia explained.
“First group. Jacob Crofen, Edalia Kells, Hellen Murray, and Gregorei Astone. You four will be team Astone.” Khalia said, reading off from the list.
As Khalia shouted out names, the initiates that were called out scrambled around the field looking for their teammates. Some looked lost while others were simply too shy to confront their teammates.
Khalia called out forty eight names, forming twelve teams. She was finally on the last set of names when she took a moment to glance at Iris who still had not been called.
“Last team of the day is, Wigyur Maalkith, Arneth Sloane, Iris Valdya, and Akaro Halerion. You four will form team Valdya.” Khalia said as she rolled up the piece of scrolled parchment and placed it back into her pocket.
Iris lifted a single brow hearing the team name. She was a bit surprised to hear it but not as surprised as she was the moment she felt someone touch her shoulder. Iris jumped into a flinch.
“Oh shite, sorry. Didn’t mean to scare ya.” said the man who had touched her.
Iris cleared her throat and took a moment to collect herself and set her eyes on the man that spooked her.
The man was nothing too impressive. The man was skinny and nothing like a person she imagined to be a Warden. His long black hair draped over his dirty face and cut lip. Yet, his smile was warm and friendly.
Tucked at his waist was a not so white cloth splotched with faint red spots that looked to be dried blood. It hung out of his waistband intentionally to be seen. At least, that's what Iris thought when she took a look at the man. “You are?” asked Iris.
“I’m Wigyur. It's a pleasure.” the man said, reaching his hand out for a handshake.
“Iris.” she responded coldly, and even ignored the handshake.
Wigyur helped his hand up for a moment only to realize his handshake was being ignored. He smiled to look past the sheer awkwardness of having his friendly gesture ignored.
“Ah..you northerners don’t do handshakes?” Wigyur asked.
“Not our thing. A simple bow usually suffices,” Iris said.
Wigyur tapped the temple of his head a few times accompanied with a grin. “Ah, noble.” Wigyur joked, and tipped his head to a bow. Iris in return, bowed her head a single time, appreciating Wigyur’s gesture. It seemed that not all outsiders were intolerant vipers.
“This must be team Valdya!” shouted out a booming voice from the sideline.
Iris and Wigyur both turned their attention to the loud voice seeing a silver haired brute of a man. The man stood at well over six feet tall with arms larger than Wigyur’s entire head. Despite the man's brutish appearance, his beard was neatly trimmed along with his ash colored hair. His hair was of medium length at the top of his head but the sides of his scalp were completely shaved. A haircut that was regularly adopted by the people of the Ash Mountains. He wore a black tunic with rolled up sleeves and a tight leather strap around his waist.
“Indeed this is!” Wigyur said excitedly. “You must be..?”
“Arneth Sloane, son of Balden Sloane.” the silver haired man said, approaching Wigyur with a handshake.
Wigyur took one glance at his hand and gave no hesitation in shaking his hand Arneth’s handshake was firm and incredibly tight, his hands were like rough leather.
“I’m Wigyur! Son of...a bitch?” Wigyur joked, still holding onto the handshake. Arneth suddenly stopped shaking Wigyurs hand. Arneth looked to be offended almost, when suddenly he bursted out into a hearty laughter. “THAT IS A GOOD ONE!” Arneth yelled out.
Arneth let go of Wigyur’s hand to hold his gut and laugh. Wigyur joined in on the laughter smacking at Arneths huge forearm. Arneth took a moment to collect himself wiping at his eye with his index finger almost as if he was brought to tears from laughing. Wigyur himself also needed a moment to collect himself from laughing. He wasn’t necessarily laughing at his own joke but at how contagious Arneths laughter was.
Wigyur took a deep breath once the both of them managed to contain their laughter and gestured towards Iris. “And this is Iris.” Wigyur said, introducing Iris who had been quiet the entire time.
Arneth looked to Iris but didn't reach out for a handshake. Wigyur noticed they were not staring at one another but instead glaring at each other, almost maliciously.
“Uh...you two alright?” Wigyur asked, raising his brows in concern.
“I’ll be alright, Wigyur. If the Ivorian is alright,” Arneth replied.
Iris bit the inside of her cheek as she heard Arneth speak about her. Her utter hatred for Ashkelli knew no bounds. She reframed from speaking, so as to not say anything ugly. Instead she spat at the ground next to her feet.
“Do you two know each other?” Wigyur asked, still so confused on the situation and why the two suddenly became hostile with one another.
Arneth watched Iris spit at the ground. He expected such behavior to come from an Ivorian. Arneth then looked to Wigyur and shook his head, planting his heavy hand on one of his shoulders. “Not at all, but I guess you could call it bad blood between our peoples.” Arneth explained.
“It's more than bad blood. It’s not something that will be lightly forgiven.” Iris followed up.
“I did not ask you to forgive anything. But if you look past the hatred in your ugly heart you’d understand we are all northerners just the same.” Arneth said.
Iris wanted to speak her mind but her train of thought was interrupted when a man approached the three.
The stranger was tall and lean, not as muscular as Arneth and not as skinny as Wigyur. He had black hair held up into a tight bun accompanied by a thick mustache and goatee dressed at his chin. The man had tired eyes but yet had a smile formed on his lips. “Is this Team Valdya?” the man said, reaching his hand out to Arneth who stood the closest to him.
Arneth took one look at the stranger and smiled in return offering his hand. The two men gave a quick and firm handshake before the stranger turned his attention to Wigyur, offering him a handshake as well. Wigyur gladly accepted the handshake with no hesitation. Finally, the man turned to look at Iris but instead offered her a wave, flashing his palm for a second at her.
“Good to meet you. I am Arneth Sloane.” Arneth said while holding eye contact with the man. Not maliciously but out of respect.
“And I'm Wigyur Maalkith, it's a pleasure!” Wigyur said, gesturing to himself.
“Iris. Iris Valdya.” Iris said plainly.
“My name is Akaro Halerion. Good to meet you all.” Akaro said, looking at the three of them.
“Likewise, Akaro.” Wigyur said, turning his attention to Iris. “What I wanna know is why our team is, team VALDYA?” Wigyur stated.
“Don’t like the sound of it?” Arneth asked jokingly.
“No no no, it's a lovely name! I was just curious.” Wigyur said, waving his hands defensively over his face. Iris meanwhile was glaring at Wigyur out of the corner of her eye.
The crowd of initiates slowly organized itself into groups, with people talking amongst themselves getting to know their team members. However all of the talking was interrupted with the sudden BANG of two iron rods being slammed together. The sound was enough to quiet the entire crowd of initiates within seconds.
Khalia nodded her head once with a smile, seeing how quick the initiates shut up. She moved both rods to her left hand while leaving her right hand free. With her free hand she covered her mouth with a fist and cleared her throat a bit dramatically.
“Good, now that everyone has been acquainted with their teams. I have one more announcement to make,” Khalia said, pausing for a brief moment. “Your hell begins now.”