𝒯𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝒯𝑒𝓂𝓅𝑒𝓈𝓉…𝒴𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓈
Chapter Two: Barrack Buddies
Word Count: 3.6k
Warning(s): Iron Flame spoilers, depictions of prejudice, mentions of character death. Comments and reblogs are always appreciated <3
"The first few times people stare, it's going to hurt. You're going to hate it, I know. The only thing you can really do to remedy it is remember that while they might think you're a monster, we know you have a heart."
— Recovered correspondence from Section Leader Bodhi Durran to Cadet Evelise Riorson
The barracks were bigger than Elsie had expected. They had to be, if they were going to accommodate half of the first-year population. Despite being what Panchek described as, "first come and first served," it remained unspoken that everyone would stay with their squads. It also remained unspoken that everyone in their vicinity would stay the hell out of Elsie and Sloane's way as they made it to the far end of the room, right up against a cold stone wall. The groups parted again, not wanting to be seen too close to the daughter of the Great Betrayer or her friend.
Maybe it was merciful, so no one would freak out at the sight of their relics in the early morning. Perhaps it was menacing — the threat of being watched over by two traitorous Tyrs.
Elsie thought it was practical. Neither of them would have to weave around beds in the morning just to take a piss.
She dropped her pack onto the bed with little hesitation and fetched the bin under the bed. The security of it was questionable, in her opinion; the only thing stopping someone from stealing out of these was the threat of the Codex, and at this point, not many people would probably take it seriously.
It was nice, though, that it had essentials in it. Two small vials of shampoo, a bar of unscented soap, and a couple of towels and washing rags. Three extra toothbrushes and paste, sanitary pads for people who weren't on tonics, and, mercifully, clean sheets.
"Damn," she murmured, staring at the contents in slight awe. "I didn't expect them to care about this."
Sloane scoffed and slung her entire pack into the bin with no care. "We're going to be killing each other, but gods forbid we be unhygenic."
Honestly, she thought, it wasn't so bad at all. It was very similar to her first night with her foster family in Preolain, right along the border between Tyrrendor and Calldyr. The Lord and Lady had prepared a room for Imogen and Elsie with toiletry bins similar to the ones in front of her. It wasn't much of a comfort, but it was at least familiar.
Within twenty minutes, she'd organized all of her things in meticulous order: Three of Xaden's letters on the bottom, two of Bodhi's on top, and then sheets, towels, and clothes. Toiletries went on top, and then extra weaponry. She'd missed the tiny copy of the Codex that came in every bin, but she didn't quite care if it got damaged, so it laid under her bottle of hair oil from home in case it leaked. She double-checked the little drawstring bag for her extra runed hairclips, tucked them in a bare corner, and stood back. That could work.
"Now," she wondered softly, "how to keep these safe?"
Perhaps she could seal it with a rune? She could ask Bodhi to help, but he'd probably be busy enough with running operations on top of his section leader responsibilies. Imogen, maybe? Then again, if someone saw third-years sneaking into the barracks, they could report it as suspicious activity. Leaving it be would have to do.
Sloane had started to gather her things into a bundle before another one of their squadmates bounded into their space, a bright smile gracing her features. Elsie was immediately on guard; none of their squadmates had tried for a conversation with either of them yet besides Lynx, and Elsie had been just fine with that. Subconsciously, her fingers drifted towards the pillow she'd tucked a blade under, although the girl clearly meant no harm.
"Hey!" The skin around her eyes creased as she smiled and waved. "We never got the chance for introductions earlier. I'm Avalynn, from Morraine. I wanted to say hi before, but, y'know." She made a motion with her hand that looked like a weird flower. On second thought, though, the way her fingers spread kind of looked like flames pluming outwards…
Elsie studied her for a moment, just to be safe. "Was that supposed to be the dragon?"
Avalynn frowned and pulled her hands back. "Did it not look like it?"
Silence hung between them for a moment before Elsie made the sign for dragon — her thumb, index, and middle fingers curled like claws that swept forward. "That's dragon, in sign."
Avalynn studied her hands for a few beats before copying Elsie. It took about three attempts, but she made it on the fourth. "Well, you got what I meant. I wanted to say hi before, but then — dragon."
That put a tiny smile on Elsie's face. "I'm Elsie," she offered, and then pointed to the other bed. "That's Sloane." A small part of her felt bad, because she definitely would not have gone out of her way to speak to Avalynn, but if the other girl minded the truly obvious fact, she didn't show it.
Sloane rolled onto her feet, shot Avalynn a quick wave, and grabbed her things. "I feel gross," she declared. "It's shower time."
Avalynn watched her dart towards the washroom. "Was it something I said?"
Elsie just waved a hand. "No, she's just dramatic sometimes. If she didn't like you, you'd know."
A few more girls followed out the door, and tension seared Elsie's gut. It was probably just her being overly-concerned, but with Sloane's outburst in the courtyard, it wasn't farfetched to assume that people would start to pay more attention to her, and that's the last thing Sloane needed. It was worsened by another group of girls leaving, three of which glared icily in her and Avalynn's direction. One of them was in her squad, the one with bright red curls who'd vomitted at the sight of the dragons earlier.
"Sheesh," Avalynn muttered. "They seem like fun."
Elsie thumbed at her dark sheets. "They have an issue with me, not you." A pause. "Although they might start if you hang around me too often."
The other girl scowled, her hazel eyes gleaming in the mage lights. "Fuck that. We're squadmates now! If they're going to be assholes to you, then they may as well be assholes to me, too."
What the hell was it with these people and not caring for their image? First Lynx, then that blond boy, and then Avalynn?
Elsie shrugged. "Just warning you."
Avalynn's nose wrinkled. "And I'm ignoring you."
Elsie couldn't tell if she was annoyed or endeared by the girl's persistence, so she just sighed and slumped against her pillows. "Have it your way, I guess."
⚡︎ ⋆.˚
The nine first-years were led into the commons, away from prying eyes and overly-curious cadets. It was spacious — definitely not built to hold the hundreds of cadets in the quadrant, but big enough to accommodate for at least a quarter of that. The windows, probably about eight feet tall, stood no chance against the blazing July sunset; even without sleeves, Elsie was sweating bullets.
She startled a little at sudden movement next to her, but settled when Lynx shot her an awkward smile. They'd stuck together during the tour of the building, right at the back and away from making contact with anyone else. She was thankful for him, honestly; he was quiet, slightly sardonic, and didn't impose on her personal space like a lot of men tended to do when they weren't freaked out by the rebellion relic. She smiled back, grateful for his steady presence.
Sloane took a seat on her other side, her glossy blonde hair falling over one shoulder. It was probably purely for the aesthetics; even as a child, Elsie remembered, Sloane had been obsessed with how she presented herself to the members of higher society. Back then, the two of them had begged Sloane's mother for traditional braids, like the one Elsie had weaved right before Parapet. Now, Sloane's hair was out and straight, and it looked to be out of pure spite.
It was obvious something had changed within the six years they'd been separated. Of course it did — Elsie obviously wasn't the same, either — but Sloane had never been one for malice. She'd been bubbly and confident then. Could that have remained underneath years of hurt?
She leaned in, her breath brushing against Elsie's ear. "Do we have a game plan?"
Elsie frowned, her eyes trailing over the furniture around them. "It hasn't even been a full day."
"No shit," Sloane bit out. "I mean for this. I don't want to be around these people more than I have to be."
Ah. Elsie's shoulders raised in the suggestion of a shrug. "Take it easy, I say. Neither of us want to be here, but it doesn't matter what we want. Just don't tell anyone to fuck themselves."
Sloane grumbled under her breath, but Elsie couldn't quite catch what she'd been trying to say. "I'm not trying to order you around," she added. "That's not my job. I just don't want anyone putting a target on your back because of your attitude, Sloane."
"My attitude?" Her voice peaked a bit. "How would you like to be in the same squad as the girl who got your brother killed?"
Elsie jerked up, her eyes flashing in shock. No way. That wasn't possible.
"What…" She swallowed. "Liam?"
Despite her obvious familiarity with Malek, it was hard for Elsie to imagine that Liam Mairi could've been…gone. He was close enough with Xaden, she remembered, that he'd gone so far to refer to him as a brother.
I can't wait for you to officially meet Liam. You might remember him from when we were kids — Sloane Mairi's older brother. He'll be your brother by proxy when I'm not there. Truly, he's probably the most dependable man you'll ever meet in the quadrant.
"…Gods," she said quietly. "I had no idea, Sloane. I'm sorry."
And his death had to do with Sorrengail. There had to be more to the story, if Xaden still trusted her the way he did, but it was clear that Sloane's hatred for the older girl was…kind of justified.
"I hate her," Sloane breathed. "With everything in me, I hate her."
Elsie just nodded. That was fair. "I get it," she whispered back. "No one is asking you not to. I don't like her either, but if Xaden says she's an ally, then she's an ally. I trust my brother implicitly."
"Your ally," Sloane corrected, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Keep her the fuck away from me."
A throat cleared from a couple of feet away, and Elsie had never been so thankful. The squad leader, the one from the parapet, wasn't so interested in greeting other squads as she was eager to speak to her own. She stood against a table next to the tall, ginger man who Elsie assumed to be her executive officer, her gaze sweeping over the squad critically.
"So," she said at last, voice blank. "Formation was a shitshow."
There were no indications of disagreement from the first-years.
"I'll be frank," she continued. "That wasn't normal. People die, sure, but nothing to that extent. If I didn't know any better, I'd say that's probably a precursor as to how this year will look for you all." Suddenly, she plopped her ass onto the tabletop. "Which is why I want a group introduction. Squads are family, and they protect each other. With that gruesome of a start, you'll need all the protection you can get."
Well, Elsie thought, turning her head to pop a crick in her neck. At least she doesn't mince her words.
Her squad leader half-raised her hand in greeting. "I'm Rhiannon Matthias. Your squad leader, obviously. I've always wanted to be a rider, a leader, and you have my word that I will try to get every single one of you in and out of the Threshing woods on dragonback. Whatever happens past that is on you. Got it?"
There were various murmurs between the group, and Elsie couldn't help the sense of admiration that slid through her. Sharp and precise, yet humane. Decent. Fair, seemingly. Rhiannon was good at her job, she decided. The two stars on her lapel spoke to that. Second-years didn't normally hold positions of power unless they were exceptional, like Xaden and Bodhi.
Maybe Elsie could be exceptional, too.
The man next to Rhiannon stood with a quiet authority, his voice softer yet somehow firmer. "Sawyer Henrick," he greeted. "I'll be your XO. If you need Rhi, and she's out of reach, you come find me. I'd rather not see the lot of you die, but as someone who's repeated, I'm used to it. That's why we're emphasizing connection. The people who stick together tend to make it out together, and those who don't, don't."
He clearly knew what he was talking about. Damn. Going through the hell of the first year willingly was one thing. But doing it all again — facing all of those same risks knowing that the outcome could very well be the same — and not batting an eye? Forget impassivity. Sawyer deserved every ounce of respect that Rhiannon did.
Rhiannon arched a brow, waiting for one of the first-years to pick up the conversation. Eyes darted around in impatient, nervous glances. Elsie almost had half the mind to speak up first before another man did, the one who'd sat himself on Lynx's right. Stocky and tall, the way he straightened spoke of a cocky sort of boisterousness that she immediately disapproved of. Everything about him was loud, it seemed, but not in a very charming way.
"Baylor Norris," he introduced himself with an easygoing grin. "I'm a legacy. My family founded this college."
Great. Elsie barely restrained herself from rolling her eyes. He's full of himself, too. Probably thinks that he'll get preferential treatment.
Baylor elbowed the boy next to him, gesturing for him to speak. Lynx blinked and paused the picking of the skin around his fingernails. "Lynx Evans. My mother is in the infantry, but I tend to believe that infantrymen are…" He made a concerted effort to think of an appropriate word, and then sighed in defeat. "Fucking douchebags."
Laughs skittered through the commons, and Elsie found herself smiling along. "It's true," Rhiannon nodded. "You'll have to fight with them someday, but gods know they can be idiots."
The girl with flaming curls from the barracks scowled. "Wasn't the king in the infantry?"
The room went silent before Sloane snorted. "She said it. Idiots."
Elsie couldn't stop the snicker that left her, one that pulled eyes to her as she nudged Sloane. It was probably treason of some kind to mock the king, but clearly they weren't the only ones with that opinion — Rhiannon smirked, and the blond boy from that morning's eyes shone with mirth.
Avalynn was in the middle of pulling her dark hair back when they all looked at her next, and she dropped the mass in exasperation. "I'm Avalynn," she shared. "I'm here to support my family. Southern Morraine doesn't have the greatest economy, you know, and my family needs the resources for their lumber business."
Huh. Elsie hadn't considered finances as a motivation for conscription. She would've honestly pegged Avalynn as the type to join the quadrant for an adrenaline rush.
Seriously; over the past few hours, she'd observed Avalynn and come to the conclusion that she could never stop moving. She always hand one part of her body moving, and when she wasn't moving, she was rambling. Where she got the energy from, Elsie had no clue. She began to mull it over just as a mousy boy introduced himself as, "Trysten, Trysten Talfren."
"I just want to make my father proud," he said softly, and somehow, Elsie had the inkling of a feeling that he wouldn't make it to Threshing. Negative as it was…she just had a feeling. Call it nihilistic, or maybe even asshole-ish — she probably wouldn't try to get to know him.
A tall woman with a viscious scar down her face was next. "Visia. I got this—" She pointed to her charred skin — "during Threshing last year and barely survived, so I'm here to try again."
Another repeat. Elsie dipped her head respectfully, but it popped right back to where it was as the red-haired girl across from her clicked her nails against the tile floor. "Mischa Levin. I want to serve the kingdom and protect our people from those who want them destroyed. I figured this was the best way to do it."
It was an honorable reason, to be fair, but Elsie's jaw clenched as Mischa's gaze caught hers and Sloane's on the word destroyed. It wasn't anything to be surprised about, but she would've thought that kind of animosity would be kept private, at least in the presence of other squadmates. This? This was just petty.
Rhiannon seemed to catch on to that, too. "What the hell did I just say?" she snapped, forcing Mischa's wide eyes to hers. "Squads fucking protect each other regardless of your politics."
"No, no," Elsie said airily, flexing her marked wrist. "Let her hate us. Better to be truthful about it now rather than drop the act when it matters."
Rhiannon stared at her for a second, and Sawyer sighed. "You're definitely your brother's sister."
"Thanks." She smiled wryly.
At the other end of the circle, the blond boy, the one who'd put himself between Elsie and the dragon's fire, nodded. He'd been keeping his head down for the past few hours; she got the sense he was shy, or at least didn't like too much attention, like Lynx. The only difference was that where Lynx was a little awkward, the other boy spoke with the kind of clarity that Elsie recognized as higher class. Maybe he was aristocratic, too?
"The same for me," he said. "I'm Aaric. My brother died for the same cause."
Aaric. It felt almost like a relief to finally get his name, mostly because she didn't have to keep addressing him as Blond Boy in her mind. Unlike Mischa, he didn't glare at Elsie as he spoke, so she took that as a sign of good faith.
Then, it was Sloane's turn. Elsie held her breath.
"Sloane Mairi," she said after a few seconds of silence, turning her chin up in that arrogance she held during formation. "Obviously, I'm not here by choice."
Rhiannon nodded in what could have been sympathy, but, really, it was hard to tell. "We're still glad to have you, Mairi. Your brother was an amazing squadmate."
Sloane's eyes widened, and Elsie's breath hitched. That was why Sloane had been transferred to Second Squad. It wasn't just the squad that Sloane was in — it was Liam's squad.
Elsie wasn't sure if that made it better or worse.
The silence resumed after that, and Elsie felt everyone's eyes travel in her direction. It was impossible to tell if they were staring at her or the relic patterned up her arm. Secretly, she hoped it was the latter. The less people she got attached to, the better.
Right?
"Elsie Riorson," she offered. "Likewise. I didn't choose this for myself. None of us did. However, it's the life that my brother fought for, so I may as well pay him back by surviving."
Hastily, she added, "Whatever that might look like."
Murmurs slipped through the quiet, and she was surprised to see the others — sans Mischa — nodding. Rhiannon peered over at her, her curiosity betrayed by her eyes. "What do you mean by fought for?"
Elsie gestured to herself and Sloane. "My brother negotiated with General Sorrengail to let us have a chance at life in this quadrant. If he hadn't, we most likely would've been executed with our parents. The only reason we're alive now is because of him."
And that was the reason for her loyalty — for every marked cadet's loyalty — to Xaden. Besides their shared blood, Xaden had saved hers and others' lives on countless occasions. The least they could all do is actually try at the life they were given, as shitty as the circumstances were.
They'd never understand it, her squad. Not truly.
She was surprised, though, by the hand that landed on her shoulder steadily. She hadn't seen Sawyer cross over to her and Sloane, but there he stood in front of them solemnly. "And we're thankful for that," he told them quietly, his low words hitting Elsie straight in the chest. "Rest assured that you won't find any maltreatment—" His bright green eyes narrowed sharply towards Mischa — "in this squad. You're part of a family now, whether you realize it or not."
He turned to the rest of the squad. "That goes for all of you. There's no doubt that at least one of you will die, but you're all in the same boat regardless. Your squad, as you progress, becomes everything. Don't let pettiness ruin that for you."
His hand on her shoulder was grounding, almost like Bodhi's or Xaden's. And, for the first time, Elsie truly listened to the words of leadership, truly took them seriously. Her gaze traveled around the circle — to Sloane, to Avalynn, to Lynx, even to Aaric.
They'd already done what Rhiannon and Sawyer said squadmates did: protect each other. Help one another. She could very well survive the year if she could just let them in.
That was the crux of the issue, though; could she trust them? Could she accept their help all the while keeping secrets that they had no idea were even possible?
Perhaps that would be the real test this year.