Page 43 of The Awakening of Essensia

Underneath this, a final note had been inked in bold.

CURFEW AT SUNDOWN.

ALL RECRUITS INSIDE BARRACKS.

NO EXCEPTIONS.

Vaelira paused. There had been a curfew in Allen too. Strange that areas with such immense fortification would need a curfew in place. Unless it wasn’t due to breached walls and the risk of demons infiltrating the city.

She set her questions about the curfew aside for the moment. At this time of year, she would barely have time to finish her training and lectures before heading to the refectory for dinner. With that, and only one day off at the end of the week, there wouldn’t be time for much else. Like socialising with other recruits… or finding her way into the Royal Library.

She glanced up at the clock. She was already thirty minutes late for drills. Exhaling, she rose from the bench and strode up the stairs, pushing open the heavy doors as anxiety prickled under her skin. But beneath the nerves was a current she hadn’t expected.

Excitement.

10

Ego

Pillars of light shone through the high windows of the sparring hall, catching specks of dust as it drifted through the open space. Vaelira sat at the edge of the room, rubbing her thigh where a man had struck her moments ago. He was short but terrifyingly strong. She, of all people, should have known better than to judge someone by their height alone. The blow had taken her legs out from under her, and she’d limped to the bench to lick her wounds. It was going to bruise.

After a week of training, every muscle in Vaelira’s body ached. She hadn’t the time for anything other than her scheduled lessons, eating, and collapsing in bed each night, and she cursed herself for not having trained harder back in Anhaven.

She had learned nothing new in demon lore that piqued her interest, with no mention of possession or anything remotely like it. It was all a rehashing of what she already knew, and by the grumbling of fellow recruits, she clearly wasn’t the only one who had heard the information before.

Someone dropped down heavily on the bench beside her. Vaelira turned to see a woman with cropped black hair and a tattoo curling up the side of her neck. Her dark skin glinted with sweat.

“I’m Ressa,” the woman said between breaths.

“Vaelira.”

On a nearby mat, a man with red-brown hair was sparring with a scrappy-looking woman. The woman swung a sharp kick towards his chest, but he caught her ankle and twisted, sending her spinning to the ground. He was one of the tallest men Vaelira had ever seen. That kick was never going to land.

“You weren’t at orientation,” Ressa said.

“I wasn’t,” Vaelira said, eyes on the match.

The scrappy woman hit the mat with a loud thud, pinned instantly. She tapped out.

“How come?” Ressa asked. Vaelira glanced at her, but Ressa was already watching the man striding towards them.

Vaelira sighed. She hadn’t been in the mood for conversation since she’d arrived, and so far, most people had respected that. “I came up from Anhaven. It took a few days.”

Master Kolborn stepped forward to announce the next match. The man reminded Vaelira of Jurah, only Kolborn was a decade or two younger, and missing any of the warmth of the Commander.

“Anhaven?” said the red-brown haired man. He held out a fist to Ressa, who met it with her own. He crossed his muscular arms. They were so broad it was almost ridiculous.

The woman he’d been sparring with came up behind him, her face twisted with anger. She shoved him hard, but he barely moved.

“Demonfucker,” she muttered under her breath, stalking away.

Vaelira’s head snapped up. To utter such a disgusting insult over something as simple as losing a sparring match was unacceptable.

The woman went flying forward, her face smashing into the ground with a loud smack. She whimpered, then pushed herself up, glaring once at Vaelira before scampering out of the training room.

Vaelira wasn’t sure why she’d done it, but she had stuck out her leg and tripped the woman before she’d really thought it through.

“Damn,” Ressa said.