Page 42 of The Awakening of Essensia

“The Noble Quarter,” Jurah said. “You are not permitted to enter without express permission.”

She nodded, her eyes lingering on the silhouette of a guard standing on the other side of the gate, the street beyond silent.

They climbed the stairs, passing two levels of dormitories before reaching the top floor. Voices murmured behind closed doors, but none opened as they passed. Jurah stopped at a door like all the others, marked only by a number. Thirty-two.

“Your room,” he said, handing her a key. She took it, the metal cold and heavy in her palm.

“At the end of the hall is the washroom. Men’s on the left, women’s on the right. Breakfast starts at six. Orientation at seven.”

Vaelira nodded, her head spinning. She needed to lie down.

“Thanks,” she said, then added quickly, “Lord Commander.”

Jurah smiled at the formality and patted her on the back. “You’ll do fine,” he said, then turned back down the hall.

Vaelira sagged against the doorframe.

“Are you okay?” Eli’s asked.

She spun too quickly, heart lurching. She’d completely forgotten he was there.

“Is your room up here?” she asked, trying to ignore the pounding in her skull.

He smiled wryly. “No, not here.”

“Okay, well, goodnight.”

She turned the key in the lock and closed the door behind her. She didn’t wait to listen to his footsteps as he left.

The room was small. Tiny, actually. There was enough space for a narrow bed and a dresser beneath the window but nothing else. The curtain hung open to the night, the torchlight from the courtyard casting a faint glow across the ceiling. She lit a candle, unbuckled her weapons, dropped her pack to the floor, and collapsed onto the bed, willingly succumbing to her exhaustion.

A knock woke her.

She blinked, disorientated. The candle was still lit, but it hadn’t burned down by much. Frowning, she stood slowly, her head spinning. She opened the door, finding a young boy standing in the hall, something wrapped with cloth in his hands.

“Hello,” she said, peering down at him.

He pushed the bundle towards her, eyes darting back down the hall. “Take it please, miss.”

She did, then without another word, he turned and hurried away, his footsteps silent on the stone. She shut the door and looked down. Beneath the cloth was a plate with cheese, bread, and thick slices of cold meat. An unexpected kindness from Jurah.

She sat on the bed and ate, grateful for the silence and a quiet moment to breathe. When she lay down again, she remembered to blow out the candle.

Vaelira skipped breakfast, her stomach too tight with nerves to eat. She crossed the courtyard, the clatter of cutlery and quiet murmur of voices drifting from the refectory. A few people ducked in and out, but no one gave her a second glance.

She had arrived several days late for orientation, so Jurah gave her a brief tour of the barracks and showed her to the stables. She only had a moment to see Millie before he hurried her back to the courtyard and handed her a sheet of parchment with her weekly schedule. She settled on the bench beneath the tree and began to read.

To her surprise, the schedule didn’t look entirely different from what she’d known in Anhaven. Weapons Training, Drills, and Sparring were familiar. So were the formal classes such as Demon Lore and Civic Duty, but a few stood out. Etiquette and History weren’t taught in Anhaven, and even First Aid was reserved for those already on active duty. As a first-year guard, she wouldn’t have been allowed on duty beyond the wall. If anyone nearby needed first aid they would have been taken straight to Kili at the Sanatorium, but she supposed that wasn’t always an option here. In a city this size, some wounds couldn’t wait for professional attention. She didn’t even know where the Sanatorium was.

Everything felt massive here, indifferent to any one person’s needs. Caerthalyn made her hometown feel like Meer, with its feeble wall and lacklustre guards.

Eli had been right. She had a lot to learn.

One word on the parchment made her pause. It was repeated several times throughout the week. Patrol.

Did they expect her to patrol the streets already? What was she meant to do if a fight broke out, or if a disagreement turned into a full-blown riot? She pictured the crowded chaos of New Town and tried not to wince.

At the bottom of the page, there was a note, stating that recruits would be excluded from patrol duties in their first week while they got their bearings. A small mercy.