Chronicles of the Overworld Book 1 — Nihal of the Land of the Wind (17 page)

Soana hugged Nihal close. “I’m making this trip for you, too. I know you’re strong and that you will follow your path no matter what.”

Even though she was not the one leaving, Nihal felt like a daughter parting from her childhood home. This was more of a
fare thee well
than a
see you soon
.

“Thank you, Soana,” was all she could say.

Soana then embraced her pupil. “I hope you will do a better job than I did, Sennar.”

“And I hope that we will meet again soon. By then, I will have proven myself worthy of your faith in me.”

Soana gave one last smile, then set off without looking back. A part of Nihal’s and Sennar’s lives went with her.

When Soana’s figure had become a tiny speck on the horizon, Nihal turned to Sennar. “Come take me to the Academy.”

“Already? You could at least wait until after I leave. That way we can spend some time together.”

Nihal shook her head. “No. I’m sorry, but I can’t watch you leave, too. There’s no point in putting it off.”

They made their way through Makrat. Even though they were walking side by side, they already felt like they were thousands of miles away from each other. They didn’t exchange a word until they’d reached the gate. Nihal carried nothing but a knapsack, the clothes she wore, and the scroll of the half-elves. Her black sword glittered at her side.

“This isn’t really good-bye, Nihal. The Land of the Wind isn’t that far away. I’ll visit every month. I promise.”

Nihal didn’t answer.

There was an embarrassed silence. The two friends stood looking at the ground for a moment. Then Sennar hastily resumed speaking.

“You’ve got to be tough. Don’t give up. I know what you’re going through, but you have to be brave.” He looked at her and said, “I’ll be far away, but I’ll always be with you. Always.”

“I’ll always be with you, too.” Her voice broke. “Don’t forget me.”

“I won’t.”

Nihal planted a quick kiss on Sennar’s cheek and turned to the gate.

The sentry recognized her right away. “We weren’t expecting you so soon. You may enter.”

The gate opened wide and darkness fell over Nihal.

The sentry led her into the Great Hall. Nihal wasn’t expecting to be welcomed by the Supreme General himself. The sentry pounded her back, forcing her to kneel. Nihal frowned up at him.

“Get used to it, girl. From now on you’ll have to obey me,” the sentry told her.

Raven descended from his throne and began pacing back and forth in the hall, his lapdog in his arms. “So, you made it. I imagine you feel very proud of yourself. Believe me, it will be a very short-lived triumph. Your life here will not be easy. I have a good memory; you made a fool of me and I shall not forget it. True, you’re an extraordinary warrior, but this won’t make things any easier for you. Every minute you spend here you will have to prove your worth, and you should know that I’ll be waiting to pounce on you should you stumble.” Raven was silent for a moment before resuming disdainfully. “Lahar will show you around the school and tell you what you need to know.” With that, he turned his back and left the room.

Nihal got back on her feet.
Don’t think you scare me
, she thought.

A lanky fellow appeared behind her and said, “Follow me, girl.”

They went down a long corridor with a high vaulted ceiling. It seemed dark and endless. Finally, he led her into a large empty room.

Lahar addressed Nihal haughtily, with ill-concealed hostility in his voice.

“This is the beginner’s training ground. Sword handling is the first thing cadets at the Academy learn. Then they may begin to practice with other weapons. There are many rooms like this one, each reserved for different fighting techniques. A dragon warrior has to know how to handle all sorts of weapons. Today no one’s around because the cadets have a day of rest every week. But you won’t. You’ll have to earn it.”

They walked through another maze of corridors to an open-air arena.

“This is where the older cadets get to know their dragons. You might never use this place.” Lahar laughed sarcastically.

Nihal couldn’t stop herself. “And why wouldn’t I?”

“Don’t use that tone with me! After the first phase of training, cadets have to show that they have learned how to fight by serving as foot soldiers on the battlefield. And I can assure you that the Fammin won’t go easy on you just because you’re a girl.”

“I know about Fammin,” Nihal shot angrily. “I killed …”

“Silence! You speak only when spoken to,” he hissed.

They went by the dining hall, where dozens of tables sat in perfect rows. Then they came to the dormitory, a series of vast rooms with twenty beds each. Beside each simple cot stood a rough wooden table where the cadet could store his belongings. There was no other furniture.

Lahar took Nihal to a tiny little room that smelled of mold. The bed was a pile of straw on the floor. A slit in the wall let in a blade of light.

“This is where you’ll sleep, since you’re the only female.”

Nihal looked around with a mix of disgust and dismay. “There’s no air,” she said.

“What were you expecting, a palace? Cadets come to the Academy to learn, not to rest. Now listen carefully, because I’ll only say this once. Weapons practice starts at sunrise. After lunch, which is served at twelve o’clock sharp, we study theory and strategy. Supper is at sundown, and then the cadets go to their rooms. It’s forbidden to wander around the Academy after sunset.” He continued, ticking points off on his fingers. “You’ll have one day off each month. You have to wear the cadet tunic until you’ve finished the first phase of training. After that, you will be assigned to a Dragon Knight for further training, and he’ll set the rules for you from then on. That’s it. You don’t have any obligations until tomorrow morning, but I advise you to sit tight here. Have a nice stay.”

Lahar was about to leave when he added, “Oh, I almost forgot. Cadets aren’t allowed to hold weapons. Give me your sword.”

Nihal tightened her grip on the hilt. “I’m sure you’ll be willing to make an exception in my case.”

“For a half-blood tramp? Why should I?” He jeered.

Nihal held the black crystal to Lahar’s throat. “Maybe no one told you, but I won entry to the Academy by beating the ten best cadets, and I won the right to live by killing two Fammin in the Land of the Wind.”

Lahar was sweating. He had not heard the story. He looked at her with disgust, spat on the ground, and left, slamming the door behind him.

Nihal sheathed her sword. She needed some air.

She tried to look out the window, but all she could see through the slit was a tiny, teeming corner of Makrat.

She threw herself on the bed of straw and lay looking up at the ceiling.

She tried to occupy herself with thoughts of her future adventures as a warrior, but she could not. Instead, her mind turned to thoughts of Livon, and her heart sunk in despair.

A loud ruckus woke her. She hadn’t realized she’d fallen asleep. The noise was coming from the dorm rooms.

Nihal was getting up from her bed when she saw her door open slowly.

The sun had already set and left her room in darkness. When the door fully opened, Nihal was able to make out a stocky shape limping toward her.

“Who is it?” she asked, uneasy.

The figure stopped. “I no bad, I no bad. Dark here, you want light maybe. I come in, I bring light. No be scared.”

The being had a sharp, plaintive voice. It moved forward and began to stroke Nihal’s arm.

Nihal jumped to her feet. “What do you want?”

“I no bad, I bring light, now you see. Call for supper, too.”

Nihal’s eyes adjusted to the faint light and she could finally see him.

He didn’t seem human. He was short and fat, his head was completely bald, and he had a wooden leg. There was no symmetry in his body. He made Nihal think of a broken doll.

“I no bad, I no bad,” he said.

“Yes, I heard you,” Nihal said curtly. “Who are you?”

“Malerba. Servant here. I no bad, no be afraid …” He stretched out his hand once again.

Nihal pulled back. He repulsed her. “Thank you for bringing the light.” She told him. “I don’t need anything else. You can leave now.”

Malerba looked contrite. He left the room walking backward like a crab, never taking his eyes off her.

Nihal hung the torch he brought on the wall. The light helped calm her. Her encounter with Malerba had left her feeling edgy so she decided to go to the dining hall to shake off the unease.

Tables full of shouting boys filled the dining hall. The sight of her peers cheered Nihal up a bit—she wasn’t entirely alone after all. She moved toward the tables, looking for an empty seat.

At the sight of her, a hush fell over the room.

Nihal slowed her steps. She didn’t understand what was going on.

The many eyes were staring at her in amazement, fear, menace, and mistrust. Never in her life had she been the object of such scrutiny.

She walked over to an empty chair. The boy sitting next to it rested his hand on it and said, “Taken.”

Nihal tried other empty chairs, but wherever she went the answer was the same. “Taken.”

Then a voice thundered through the silence of the hall. “Why are you dressed like that, half-elf?”

Nihal looked around. The masters were sitting on a platform, separate from the students.

Nihal blinked and looked up. “How should I be dressed?”

“You’re a cadet, or so they say,” the man said in a biting tone. “That means you should be dressed in the cadets’ tunic.”

Standing there surrounded by so much hostility made Nihal feel frail. “No one gave me one,” she apologized.

“Then you shouldn’t have come down. Didn’t Lahar tell you the rules?”

“Yes, but I …”

The man interrupted her sternly, saying, “You’ll make up for this mistake by doing a round of guard duty until dawn. As far as your clothes are concerned, Malerba will bring them to you later.”

A few of the boys snickered.

“Now sit down and eat,” he ordered.

Nihal went to the last vacant seat. She didn’t even have time to ask.

“No freaks and no girly girls,” a kid said.

Nihal moved away. What could he mean? The Overworld was full of races of all sorts: nymphs, wood sprites, gnomes, humans … Why did he say there was no room for freaks?

Nihal had spent most of her life in a land populated by racial mixes. She’d never felt particularly different. But here, among the elite of humankind, it was as if she were a quirk of nature.

She found an isolated place to sit, far from everyone, and ate in silence, feeling bitter.

After dinner, she went back to her hole of a room, doing her best not to attract any attention. Malerba was waiting for her on the threshold, a shapeless bundle in his hands and a stupid smile on his face.

Nihal took the bundle of clothes without looking at him. He was preparing to step into the room but Nihal snapped at him, “You can go.”

The servant once again looked at her with a crushed expression. Then he left.

Nihal locked herself inside. Knowing that the creature was out there waiting for her drove her crazy. In a rage, she stuck her sword across the door so that no one—not Malerba nor any of the cadets—could come in.

She was alone. The pallid flicker of her torch made her room feel like a prison cell.

She unwrapped the bundle of clothes and found a pair of britches and a loose cloth jacket. She threw them in a corner and stretched out on the straw without changing. From the other side of the door, she could hear the voices and laughter of her fellow cadets. She was not a part of it.

For the first time, she felt aware of the fact that she wasn’t human. She was an outsider. There was no one else like her. She was the last one, an ancient thing from another time altogether.

What was she doing here? The half-elves were all dead. There was no place for her among the living. She felt too different.

That night, she cried for a long time, doing her best to muffle the sound of her sobs and angrily drying her tears with the back of her hand. She cried until she fell back asleep.

Someone tried to open her door in the small hours of the night. Nihal woke with a start. She was frightened. “Who’s there?”

From outside came Malerba’s voice muttering something about guards and shifts. Nihal remembered her punishment and realized she still felt utterly humiliated.

She dressed in a rush. The jacket hung loosely around her, making her look even punier. She grabbed her sword and her cloak and stepped out.

When Malerba saw her, his face lit up. He put a hand on her arm. “Gate. They’re waiting there.”

“Don’t touch me,” she growled, yanking away her arm.

Nihal found a sleepy guard waiting for her at the main entrance to the Academy.

“You lucked out. It’s only a few hours til dawn,” he said, yawning.

He sounded polite, until he recognized her in the torchlight. Then he made sure to look at her spitefully.

Nihal took the lance he was holding. It was freezing cold out and the clothes they had given her provided no warmth; without her cloak she would have frozen to death. Nihal shivered, struggling to keep her eyes open. She was off to an excellent start.

Things did not improve throughout the rest of the day.

She ate breakfast alone as she had eaten dinner the night before and then went to the training room. Many of the others had already arrived and begun training. She noticed that they were organized into groups. She was looking around, trying to decide which group to join, when a man beckoned to her.

“You must be the new cadet. I’m Parsel, the weapons master. Here, come with me.”

Nihal followed him to a clear area where a group of boys had gathered. They were all more or less her age.

“This is our youngest team. This is where cadets learn the fundamentals of sword handling and other basic techniques.”

Nihal was incredulous. “What do you mean, the basics? I was accepted into the Academy because I beat ten of the best sword fighters in the place!”

“Is that so? Well, my orders are to teach you, so you’ll have to start from the beginning.”