Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 69923 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69923 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
“Nitsa, I never felt more stupid than I do right now,” Theron said gravely. “It’s so obvious now that you say it. Why didn’t we notice that before?”
Nitsa, Ionna, and Tycho echoed him.
“I know why.” My books crushed against my chest. “Because we believe in our mothers, and the sweet stories they tell us as we drift to sleep. We believe in them stronger than we ever will the gods.”
“That’s true,” Ionna whispered.
“—tell my mother about this.” Sirena echoed through the hall. “It’s an outrage that this information was kept from members of the Imperial household, but it’s even more disgusting that she shared it for every pig-stinkin’ peasant in there to hear. She should’ve held a private class for those with the right to know.”
I passed by her, barely keeping hold of my tongue.
“Mother will be furious when she hears about this.”
Her handmaidens chimed in on cue.
“You’re right, Sirena.”
“Madame Remis went too far.”
“I bet none of that was true anyway. No way would the first council let a bunch of beasts and mundanes dictate to demigods. The whole thing makes no...”
Their voices faded as we headed out of the lecture wing, making way for our last class of the morning. The guys told me a little about self-mastery class, but I was curious to see it for myself. I was even more curious about what the instructor had planned for me.
Together we gathered in the stadium arena, circling the lone man on the platform. Everyone except Daciana.
“You have all heard my speech, but for the benefit of our latecomer”—Instructor Kazran cut eyes at me so I didn’t mistake who he was speaking of—“I will repeat myself. Self-mastery is power combat training. Here you will train to improve your speed and accuracy.”
Kazran was a young man. I put him at early thirties, maybe late twenties. According to my friends, this should impress me. He was young, fit, and built. His spiky red hair caught beams of sunlight between his locks, drawing your eyes up for the slight second you could stand to look away from his cornflower-blue eyes and the tawny dusting along his nose and cheekbones.
Young, fit, handsome men such as he were serving their army sentence with no hope of getting a teaching position until they were much older and slower. For Drakos to get him assigned to the school proved how much power the headmaster had, and how impressive Kazran was.
“A long time ago,” he continued, “self-mastery class was sending novices off the grounds to face whatever crossed their paths. Some came back, some did not.”
I wonder if that was left out of the history books too.
“Eventually, monsters got wise. We weren’t sending out snacks. We were sending out hunting parties, and like us, some survived. Most didn’t,” he said. “As a result, they moved farther out of the area. Too far to send you out and back in half an hour. So, we make do.”
I raised my hand.
“Put that down,” Kazran said. “You’re not a child.”
Down it went. “How do we make do, Instructor?”
“With proficients.” Kazran clapped and ten men and women broke off from the circle, and joined him on the platform.
I was learning slower than the others, but I did know proficients were students in their third year at the academy. Theron impressed upon me the weight of graduating to proficient. By the third year of training, fifty-five percent of the average starting Sisyphean class was dead. Thirty percent of the starting Titan class was gone.
We were looking at survivors.
“These men and women have powers closest to the kind of dangers you’ll face while protecting Olympia. Fire wielders, hypnotic abilities, shape-shifting tricksters, regenerators, speedsters, fliers, iron skins, magic bearers, elemental molders, and seers. What you’ll do is simple,” he told me. This was only for my benefit.
“They will attack. You will defend. This should go without saying, but I’ll say it anyway. You cannot move to another opponent until you’ve defeated your first. The same applies in battle because out there if you cannot defeat your monster, you won’t move on... since you’ll be dead,” he deadpanned. “Any questions?”
I braced myself as the question hit the air. “How do I do this without a power?”
Jeers assaulted me immediately.
“Still a lying traitor,” Niles scoffed. “She hasn’t learned her lesson.”
“No one’s buying your shit, coward. Stand up and fight like the rest of us.”
“Quiet.” Kazran kneeled on the platform, boring over me. “You do have power, Galanis.” He spoke slowly like he was talking to a child. “You just haven’t figured out what it is yet. Lucky for you, this is your first step toward finding out.”
“How so?”
He swept a hand over the proficients. “What if you’re a daughter of Hephaestus and impervious to fire? Can’t find out until you get burned. What if you sprout wings and fly? Won’t know until you jump off a cliff. By the culling, we’ll know without a doubt what your power is or...” He clicked his tongue. “Or fate will have granted you a more merciful end than what awaited you during the culling. Either way, this class is your salvation.”