Page 30 of Beyond The Maples
Wesley's nasally voice breaks the comfortable silence. "Maple Treow."
I sigh, pushing my tray away from me. "Wish me luck," I mutter.
"You'll be fine," Farra replies with confidence.
Before turning to leave, I ask, "How are you so sure?"
"Look around you. If they can pass, you'll be fine." Her head tilts a table to the far right. A rougher, rowdy looking group of men sitting there talking boisterously. I smirk a little. That was almost a compliment.
I walk a little straighter out of the cafeteria.
Right away, I feel silly for being so nervous about these tests. My father and sister's obsessions prepared me tenfold for all the general knowledge testing, and I know better than to divulge more than I should. They then moved me into a room to test my general knowledge of technology, testing if I had an aptitude for engineering. This I excelled at.
I suppose they wanted to test which cadets have problem-solving skills and, although I fail written tests, if you give me something physical to work with I can almost always figure it out. They had me tinker with a few different things, breaking them before putting them back together. I vaguely wonder if I should have been so open with this skill. Using materials like that in most situations is illegal. But the professor explained that, in the field and at the borders, and especially if you have an assignment near the barrier, the opportunity for technical failures is high. The magic, being as volatile as it is, means sometimes even simple firearms don't work. Which is another reason for the importance of hand-to-hand combat and the use of older weaponry. Why do I get so excited at the thought of using a sword?
"Maple, did you hear me? Can you tell me how these images make you feel?"
The small, balding man in front of me snaps his fingers, bringing me back to reality. After happily tinkering for a while, that section of assessment ended, and now I sit in an uncomfortable chair in a room that feels too small, with a professor who looks thoroughly annoyed with me.
"Oh, sorry. Umm, they make me feel.... bored?"
I honestly don't know how they make me feel. They are blobs on paper. The man seems exhausted.
"Look Miss, I know this isn't overly exciting but we're just trying to determine whether you are of sound mind to take part in the following training, and will not put your crew members in harms way. Just answer the questions honestly, and we'll be done."
I didn't realize I wasn't being honest, but I'll give him a better attempt so we can speed this along, I guess.
The questions seem all over the map. Have I ever become violent with my peers? Have I ever had episodes of depression, or thoughts of suicide?
Sometimes my rage feels all-encompassing, but I always manage to leash it. I've always taken it and put it deep within myself, in that special locked metal box. A visualizing method I vaguely remember my mom teaching me when I was a little girl and my emotions threatened to pull me under.
There have been times when my heavy grief has threatened to consume me. But I have people relying on me. At least, at home, I have something that overrides any other instincts.
This whole part of the testing makes my skin crawl. I don't love being scrutinized in such an obvious way. I am used to the spotlight being on others, and I rarely have an opportunity in my busy life to reflect on a lot of these feelings I willingly seek to avoid.
After what feels like ages, I am dismissed. By that time, it's midday, and I head back to the cafeteria with excitement, wondering what the cranky man behind the counterwill serve.
By afternoon I need to use the washroom, so I wander away from the crowds to find one. I hear a loud thud and laughing in an otherwise quiet hallway, and my feet follow the noise without my permission.
As I come around the corner, my eyes narrow as I see Leo pinned by two larger men, one of them digging through his pockets and the other with his arm against Leo’s neck.
For a moment, my mind stumbles, and all I see is Linden standing there. I spring forward, eating up the rest of the distance in less than a breath, instinct taking over completely. I kick the backs of the largest guy's knees. He buckles and then I whirl on the other, getting in between him and Leo.
I moved so quickly and quietly neither man was prepared for my intervention, which helped as I threw him off.
"You little bitch," the first one grunts, pulling himself off the ground.
The second man eyes me with a hideous grin. Leo chokes air back into his lungs behind me. The ball of fury in my gut expands.
I square my shoulders and walk towards them, forcing them to stumble backwards as I stride up to them, eyes wide and not a drop of fear coming off me, not caring that they both stand a head taller than me. It doesn't seem to matter in this moment, as a furious calm takes over me. I walk closer than I have to, and the eyes of the man closest to me widen in surprise at my behaviour.
"I suggest you two both take off before I call for the Captain, and let him decide if harassing younger cadets is something he tolerates," I hiss at them.
In my periphery, I can see a group forming. Farra and several others have now joined us at the end of the hallway.
"Whatever.Clearly, some people can't take a joke. Let's go, Dex."
The first lug moves, but the second one––Dex I guess––eyes me a second longer, unsure he wants to let it go just yet. He knocks my shoulder on the way past me in a show of truly pathetic male bravado.
