Page 82 of Under Restless Skies

Her joy warms my heart. I haven’t had a friend in so long, and here’s someone who’s truly happy for me.

She raises a finger. “First stop: uniform!”

“Maybe we should eat first.”

“Nah.” She waves a hand. “And walk into the refectory like that? No. We’ll hurry and still have time to catch breakfast. Let me just put my shoes on.”

“Where’s your other roommate?”

Celine looks down, her cheerful mood dissipating at once. “Some of the second years were sent to hills far from the city. They’ll fly if…”

There’s an attack. I don’t dare voice the words out loud. “I see. At least you’re here.”

“I’m hoping Foros will keep protecting me.”

I nod, unsure what to say. While I’m aware that second-year recruits can fly during attacks, I don’t think I have fully grasped the idea that I could lose a friend. Maybe I have to start praying more for Foros.

Her mood then shifts, as if she decided to brush away her worry. “What are we waiting for? Let’s go!”

We rush to the same uniform supply room where I tried—and failed—to get a dress. The same woman is sitting behind the counter and gets up when she sees us.

“I told you she was in the academy,” Celine says, a dash of pride in her tone.

The woman nods. “Well, I did ask my superiors, but you never returned.”

Celine pivots on her heel to face me, her eyebrows raised. “Then how…”

Last night, she teased me about my friend helping me get the dress, but I didn’t realize she thought I got it from this deposit. My face gets warm. “I’ll tell you later.”

“You better.” She shoots me a warning glance.

“What size?” the woman asks.

“What sizes do they have?” I whisper to Celine.

My friend gives me a quick once-over, then answers for me. “Medium female.”

“All right.” The woman disappears into the back and returns with two pairs of pants and two sleeveless tops. “You can get new ones every five days.”

“New?” I’m not sure I understand her.

She shrugs. “They have to be washed, right?”

I run my hand over the stiff, black fabric, happy to finally be about to wear it, but slightly disappointed that I won’t get a uniform of my own. Apparently, nothing in this academy belongs to us. Even the uniforms are borrowed then returned to some communal laundry pile.

Celine grins. “Now you can change, and then we do everything else.”

We run to her dormitory, since it’s closer, where I peel off the ugly gray clothes and pull on the recruit uniform. My own image in the mirror smiles at me, as if to remind me that this is what I wanted, this is what I fought for. A dream coming true.

At the refectory, my body feels relaxed, and I don’t need to make any effort to keep my head high.

I belong.

I get my food, then sit at a table with Nelly and Celine, who immediately pester me with questions about the dress and where I went during the ball. I tell them the truth—sort of—that two women brought me the dress, even if I skip the fancy bath and all that, and then say that I wasn’t feeling well and had to rest.

“Right!” Celine’s tone is sarcastic. “And while you slept, you got to become a recruit, by magic.”

“Something happened,” I whisper. “But I can’t tell. I’m sorry.”