Page 47 of Trivium

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AHMINA

The Academy library was the largest space in the main castle, rivaling the Great Hall in beauty and grandeur. Its marble shelves, stuffed with books of all shapes and sizes, rose four stories high. Moisture-absorbing vines traced the shelves’ ledges, keeping the books mold-free. Beyond their practical use, the crawling tendrils gave the library a peaceful, artistic feel. It reminded Ahmina of Central Library. She missed it and Elder Muaka dearly.

The library was quiet, but a small group of students sat a couple tables down, laughing. She had spent every waking hour outside of classes here, studying as much as she could. She was up to date on all of the assignments she had missed while in the infirmary, but even after putting in hours and hours of study, her grades still suffered.

Frustrated, head pounding, she threw a book on the floor and slumped over in her seat. If she didn’t get it together before the second assessment… she didn’t want to think about what would happen to her. It was well known that students didn’t leave the Academy unless it was as a Defender, dead, or worst-case scenario, a disgrace. The embarrassment of it all would be worse than death, she thought, as she buried her head in her hands.

This was her life’s goal, and she was failing at it.

She tried to steady her breathing, but her lungs rebelled, leaving her gasping for air. Everything felt wrong, too hot and too cold all at once. She felt like she was dying. Was she dying? Panicked, she stood up and searched for an exit that didn’t lead back into the hallways. Wasn’t there a door to outside from here? She needed air. She couldn’t breathe.

“Hey.” A hand touched her arm.

Lennox. The last person she wanted to see. She was flooded with guilt, shame, and embarrassment about what happened between them during her first assessment. Just the thought of it made her anxiety spike, and tears prickled her eyes. She knew she needed to say thank you but she wasn’t ready to face him yet. How do you even say thank you to someone for saving your life? For sucking venom out of your blood!? How could words possibly be enough?

Lennox looked her in the eyes and placed his hands on her shoulders. “Breathe.”

“Go away,” was all she could get out between gasps. She didn’t want him to see her like this.

“Come on. Breathe,” he said again.

Ahmina fought for air. “I can’t!” The room was shrinking around her, the pressure of it all silently crushing her lungs. Her chest was so tight, it felt like it had a stack of books resting on it. She had to get out. Now.

“Look at me,” Lennox said, and lifted her chin to meet his gaze. Ahmina did as she was told, studying the same kaleidoscope of eyes she met in the Library of Jarrah. “Breathe with me. One in…” He sucked in a breath slowly. “And out.” His breath ruffled her hair. Ahmina copied his movements, despite her pride.

“Do it again with me.” He nodded, guiding her along, and Ahmina matched his breath over and over until the panic subsided enough for her to catch her breath.

“Sorry I⁠—”

“Ahmina.”

“—I don’t know what happened.” She shook her head, cheeks salty and wet from tears. What was wrong with her?

“You’re okay. Say it back to me.”

“I’m okay,” she said, even though she didn’t believe it. She let out another deep breath.

Lennox let go of her shoulders and put his arm around her. “Let’s get your stuff and get some fresh air.”

She let Lennox lead the way, as he repacked her book bag and shepherded her out of the library, through the hallways, and into the courtyard. The fresh evening air was cool on her face, and it immediately calmed her.

“I’m okay,” she repeated, mostly to herself. Finally, she was breathing semi-normally again despite the lingering tightness in her chest.

The concern that had been written all over Lennox’s face in the library was gone, replaced by his typical casual expression. He sat on the top of a garden table and lit a smoke.

“What are you doing?”

“It’s just sweet tea; want some?”

“No.” Ahmina didn’t smoke. She studied. She read. She excelled in school. Well, normally she excelled in school. Here at the Academy, she just seemed to fail. She chewed her lip.

Lennox looked up at the sky but didn’t say anything.

The night was silent, weighted with everything unspoken between them. She needed to be honest, but the humiliation of it all made her feel so incredibly small. “I’m failing,” she admitted instead, because she didn’t have the strength in her to say anything else.

Lennox eyed her, smoke flowing in and out of his mouth like clouds. “You’re brilliant, Ahmina; you know you are.”