Page 75 of The Song of Sunrise
“Wake up!”
“I am awake!” At least, now I am.
Professor Allor continues lecturing, and it seems as if no time has passed despite me losing consciousness for a bit. “After the great flames of our Old World died down to embers, a New World emerged from the ash, awaking the Source now coursing through its veins. Magic that was always there, just waiting,dormant, like the Underworld below, their ranks slowly rising from their slumber deep under the surface.
“Meanwhile above, raw Source energy flowed into some humans more strongly than others, creating the first races of elves. We are not so different from them as you might think.”
“Except they are practically immortal!” Lacerta squeaks from the corner excitedly. Her skin is rosy and flushed and framed by her wild mane of strawberry blonde hair. Lacerta appears to have had better luck in the first task than her twin brother, Leo, who is still suffering from fire monkey burns in the infirmary.
Professor Allor draws her misty eyes toward Lacerta. “And what price do you think they pay for their immortality?”
No one answers. Rain patters on the windows, and another thunderhead cracks in the distance.
The two boys from my vision mentioned the Forest Tribe royal, Lord Clayoq. At least fifty years have passed based on the style of their Watcher cloaks since that conversation, and yet the Elven ruler is the same. Nearly immortalandperhaps still the keeper of an incredibly powerful moon stone.
I brush off the thought. What an odd daydream.
27
Akemi - 1, Atlys - 0
The corridors are packed with grumpy cadets, stomping their boots, trailing in snow and dirt as they return inside from Battlefield’s latest torture device out on the ravine. Commander Hogsmith must have a sick joy in coming up with clever new ways to torture—or, as he would say, “comprehensively train”—cadets for all weather conditions. I’m not sure when climbing the face of a rocky mountain in sleeting snow will come in handy, but I climbed all morning and afternoon regardless, slipping and freezing until my fingers turned purple. Twice, I lost my grip and fell off the side, only to be caught by the safety rope around my waist.
My palms are still aching and raw from Battlefield as I enter the cafeteria for dinner. Heavy clouds descend low over the castle, only a soft white mist visible from the arched windows curling around the room.
I opt for a bowl of soup and bread and walk carefully toward my friends, gripping my tray and staring at the bobbing carrotsand shallots as if my concentration alone will keep the hot liquid from spilling over the edge of the bowl.
“You are as graceful as can be with your throwing stars, Akemi, but walking with a steaming bowl of soup is not your thing,” Leaf teases from the table next to Ramona.
“Like you could do any better.” Ramona swishes a hand at Leaf.
I taste the soup, enjoying the full flavor of the savory, salted stew. The staff has really outdone themselves this time. I sip some more, tasting bits of celery and potato.Delicious. I pick up the crusted bread and rip off a steaming piece. The flour from the crust coats my fingers. It’s oddly silent. I look up.
Leaf and Ramona are staring at me hungrily.
“What?” I say, dabbing soup from the corner of my mouth on my sleeve.
“Well?” Leaf asks, leaning in with an eyebrow raised.
“What do you think? Is it better than the bean soup yesterday?” Ramona asks. She leans in too.
“Hm.” I take another sip. “I’d say so.”
“HA!” Ramona yells and points at Leaf.
Leaf groans and reaches into his pocket for a few bronze coins and drops them into Ramona’s extended hand.
“I cannot help that I have superior tastes,” Ramona says. “It can be a burden sometimes…” She trails off, smiling to herself and flipping the coins in the air before pocketing them and grinning like she won the whole damn Summit.
A door slams in the corner, drawing our attention. Spoons and forks clatter to the table as cadets look toward the source of the noise. Strolling into the center of the room with full heavy steps is Vega Falling Eagle. Her long brown hair is tied tightly into a braid and her cheeks are rosy from the chill of outside. Two Sun’cher gold rings glint on her fingers now balled in a white-knuckled fist.
“Vega, stop!” Castor runs up from behind her, grabbing her elbow and pulling her back.
Another cadet joins them, Pictor, a tall, dark-haired first year who—metaphorically and physically—always appears to look down on everyone around him.
Leaf begins to stand alert, shifting the large mass of his body so that it shields me from the scene. Something doesn’t feel right about this.
I peer around his broad shoulders, trying to get a better look at Vega and Castor. I hate the way my gut turns at the sight of them. Leaf had told me that they used to be together before we met. That Castor suddenly broke it off before the summer, and it didn’t help that he returned to the Watch with a fresh new recruit who he seems to care about enough to ask to the formal Summit Luncheon.
