We barely make it to the landing before we find ourselves standing at attention facing a horde of Noctryn. They immediately start separating us into groups.
I can scarcely see past my nose due to the rain, but make no mistake, these upperclassmen don’t even seem to notice it. One might even go so far as to say they even enjoy it.
There isn’t a Veil in sight.
With a grim face, Finnley and I, who were thankfully placed in the same group, stand together waiting for an order to be issued. Right now, it’s just a sea of black staring down a group of tired, wet, timid prospects. I had just assumed there would be representatives from both regiments to greet us. Although I’m not sure I would actually call this a greeting party.
What I wouldn’t give to see Ambrose right now. I push the stinging feeling of disappointment away. I’m sure there’s a reason the Veils aren’t here.
If the Veils stand for everything light, honest, and worthy, then the Noctryns are the antithesis of that. Immoral, vicious, and corrupt. The only thing the two have in common is that both are weaponized.
I wipe wet strands of hair from my face, trying to make the movement minimal. I don’t want any attention directed toward me. We have no idea why they separated us, and we’re soaked, cold, and tired. The last thing I want is to be singled out for any reason. Fly under the radar and get through this week in one piece.
That’s the only plan I have.
The dark regiment just stands and stares at us through their blackened helms, their eyes completely shielded behind obsidian visors. Armor covers every inch of their frames, the flexible metal pulling tightly over their chests and fitting snugly to their abdomens, almost outlining the ridges hidden beneath. It’s unlike any kind of armor I’ve seen before, protection crafted to conceal, but more whisper than weight. More like a living thing formed for obedience than something merely worn. An extra layer doubly covers their forearms. Most have various weapons attached, and some even have swords strapped to their backs.
They came togreetus in full battle gear.
“We will be calling one member from each of your groups to act as your bracket’s temporary lieutenant.” The Noctryn who spoke swivels his helmet in the direction of the three groups. “When I call your name, you are to come to the front to obtain further directions.”
I quickly avert my eyes, hoping that if I don’t make eye contact, perhaps I’ll just blend in with the others. I step back quickly and discreetly, pushing through the prospects. The ground is completely saturated, causing my boots to sink into the mud andrainwater to seep through the sides. I whisper apologies as I slip past people, bumping into them along the way.
“Aksel Penton, Maylin Zhou, and Norissa Caderyn,” the gravelly voice echoes across the open courtyard. Even with his visor down, standing in the pouring rain, you can hear him say my name so damn clear.
Grinding my teeth, I push back through the throng of people I just came through, passing by Finnley and his knowing smile. He gives me a small nod of encouragement.
Please let this be a mistake. Why would they choose me? I’m not leadership material. I’m barely not falling off the mountain material.
I stop before the Noctryn who issued the order, with my shoulders back and chin up. Wet copper strands hang limp across my forehead, but I can’t be bothered to swipe them away again. My entire focus is on maintaining my fearless facade, which I’m trying so hard to keep in place. It takes everything in me to maintain eye contact with the direct, unnerving focus of someone whose eyes I can’t even see. His entire being commands obedience, and for some reason, I just know it would be unwise to portray weakness.
The very air crackles with expectation.
When I don’t think I can maintain the facade much longer, he finally decides to show a sliver of mercy and breaks the tension. “You three will each act as lieutenant. This title was not given out carelessly or without thought. You are responsible for your entire group. Their wins as well as their losses.” He folds his arms across his armored chest. “Their compliance as well as their defiance.”
I glance at the girl standing next to me, who’s in charge of leading one of the other groups. Mayline, I believe he said her name was. Her mink-brown eyes widen at him as she mutterssomething under her breath. Possibly a prayer, but more likely a curse word.
The academic leaders are ranked as in a military unit. I knew this coming in, but I just didn’t realize they assigned team leads on day one. The hierarchy among the classes is: first-year leaders are lieutenants, the second-years are captains, third-years are majors, and the graduating class is our generals.
“What if we don’t make good leaders? What happens then?” I ask quickly before I lose my nerve.
His blackened helm slowly turns to face me before tilting slightly. “I suggest you do your very best not to find out.”
Okay, well, that settles that. Failure isn’t an option in the leadership department. Got it. I do my best not to fold in on myself and to keep my shoulders back and eyes up.
The tall, lanky boy on the other side of Mayline, who was also named lieutenant, removes his glasses before feebly attempting to wipe the rain off. He cuts a quick glance sideways in our direction. His floppy brown hair is plastered to his head. I watch as he gives it a good shake to expel some of the water, but it’s useless. It’s just beating down on us.
The Noctryn gestures to himself and the other two fully armored upperclassmen flanking him. “We’re a few of the captains within the dark regiment, and as such, we were instructed to give you your ranks, orders, and show you to your quarters.” He states all of this in a no-nonsense sort of way. “Group one is assigned to Nori. Aksel, you’re group two, and that leaves you, Mayline, with group three.” The other two captains stand stoic at his side but remain silent.
Captain Surly, which is how I will refer to him since he hasn’t offered up a name, gives us instructions to round up our group and get them in order before casually turning his back on us to talk with his comrades.
I spin on my heels and head back over to the other prospects watching me expectantly.
Dread fills every fiber of my being, knowing I have to pretend to know how to be authoritative and get this group not only to listen to me but also to take me seriously.
“It went as well as you would expect,” I reply in answer to Finnley’s questioning look.
Wringing his cloak out with both hands, he tilts his head in the direction of the captains. “What’s the verdict? Are they planning on making us swim tonight, or do we get to go inside?”
