Page 24 of Ashes of Honor

I cleared my throat, the butterflies from my school days fluttered around my stomach. “Sure. In what regard? I’ve always found that there’s something new to take away with each reread.”

A boy around fourteen answered me, his coal-colored eyes boring into mine with a hint of confidence, “How the island is a direct parallel to the world that’s at war.”

“Yeah,” the girl to his left chimed in, catching his attention and blushing under his stare. “How easily the group slides into violence comes from the science of us all.”

Yasmin smiled gently. “Kathryn, I think I’m rather intrigued by that perspective. Tell us more.”

“I … um, never mind.” Kathryn’s hair fell forward, hiding her crystal-blue eyes. A group of girls whispered behind her, snickering quietly as the kid’s chin dipped, avoiding their glances.

Yasmin gave me a quick look, her eyebrow barely raised, but I understood. The kid never spoke up. I took the hint and stepped in, filling the silence before it dragged on too long. “I read it that way too—at first. Golding seems to suggest that humans at our core are savages.”

“You don’t believe that anymore, though?” She tucked her thick strands behind her ear with the bouncing of her leg.

“Oh, if anything, I believe it now more than ever,” I said, leaning in as close as I could. “But I also think the message here is that even in our savagery, we yearn for some sort of human connection. With human connection, comes societal structure, so even the wildest of us all will still conform.”

“Like Covert Province.” This time, a different kid spoke up from across the room.

I couldn’t see his face. With so many kids and such little space, each classroom had a minimum of a hundred students in it. More of a lecture hall than a place for quality learning, but we did what we could.

“Why do you think that is, Ryan?” Yasmin’s, shiny hair was pulled into a low bun. Her sharp yet graceful features tightened out of eager encouragement.

“Survival,” presumably Ryan, answered.

“I like the way you think,” Yasmin winked, her dark, almond eyes captivating the surrounding students. She was good at this, the right person had found the right job, that had always been the goal here. I watched in silent awe as she turned back to face the rest of the class, her hands wild and free as she spoke. “Survival is a basic instinct for all living things, butespeciallyus humans. The brain is a powerful tool. It wants to survive. Which leads us to another point: morality.”

“You don’t have to compromise your morals to survive,” a kid, with a hint of defiance in his voice said, his posture straight despite his small frame.

“Oh?” Yasmin arched a thick brow. “That’s quite a definitive answer, Raaj. General Bennett, any thoughts?”

I sat quietly for a moment, my fingers tracing around the edges of the magic-carved desk. So many thoughts circledaround my mind. Weighing my words carefully, I gave the answer that any general would.

“It’s easy to hold on to morals when survival is a given, when everyone’s working together,” I said, my eyes flickered around the class. Every single student I could see was focused on the words flowing freely from my mouth. “But that’s not really survival, is it? That’s just living. Ralph and the others stay grounded in civilization because nothing’s truly threatened yet. That changes when the beast appears, when survival is on the line, everything changes. It’s only natural for Jack’s psyche to shift—he’s preparing for a fight, not just to live, but to survive.”

Raaj was ready to hammer back my way. I think I had a soft spot for this kid. I hoped he never met Elie or Emma. Two were more than enough empowered children for me to stress about, I didn’t need a third. “And that makes it okay for him to cast his morals aside? What he did to Piggy?—”

“She didn’t say that, dipshit.”

“Chris!” Yasmin snapped, her glare lethal.

“The beast wasn’t real though,” Raaj continued, completely unfazed by the outburst. “Not really.”

The class watched us debate. Their heads audibly turned as we went back and forth about the book. God, how I’d wished to be filled in a class with kids who truly gave a damn. Kids on base never cared enough, and I didn’t count college since we were all paying to be there.

“Wasn’t it?” I challenged. “Ralph recognized the validity of this ‘beast,’ but he still kept his morals intact. The beast is as real as they make it. In the end, it didn’t matter though. Everyone lost.”

The timer on Yasmin’s desk went off. Students gathered their belongings and shuffled out, the buzz of conversation fading as the door swung shut behind the last student. I rose from the desk at the back of the room slowly, aware of Yasmin lingeringup front, her eyes cool and unreadable. The silence stretched between us, thick and uncomfortable.

“You do rather well with children,” Yasmin finally said, but there was no warmth in her voice, only obligation.

I glanced up, forcing a tight smile. “Thanks. I do my best not to be a raging bitch when there are kids around.”

Neither of us moved. The air between crackled with an unspoken tension. Yasmin crossed her arms, her posture a bit too rigid.

Amaia

“So,” I said, hating that I was the first to speak. “I guess we’re keeping literature.”

“Excuse me?” Yasmin muttered, her tone flat, but her eyes sharp.

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