chapter seventeen

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-17- 


Being jolted awake at an ungodly hour had never suited her. Elle stared through bleary eyes as Tan pulled on her sheets, poking at her limp form. "Get your ass out of bed, V."

She made a noncommittal sound in the back of her throat, pulling the pillow over her head. "What time is it?"

"Depends on what time you'd like it to be," she said sweetly before ripping off the covers. Elle shivered, drawing her knees up to her chest as Tan pulled her hair into a tight ponytail. She had slept in her underclothes, to preserve some sort of cleanliness of her training uniform.

"Who knows what he'll put us up to today," the blonde murmured, sneaking a glance at the man in his usual position.

The assassin barely had time to pull on her shirt and run a brush through her hair before Mather commanded them to line up in a circle around the shape of the dome. His expression remained indiscernible as they did so.

"These next few weeks are going to be crucial for your final ranking. If I say train harder, you train harder. If I say no breaks, you get no breaks." The man stalked past each agent, jabbing his finger. Elle could hear the uneven breathing of the trainee beside her. "Today, you get actual training partners—a mentor of sorts. Impress them, you impress me. To effectively see who deserves their place, you'll be training with existing agents." She raised her brows, scanning the room for such agents.

"Approach!" His last booming command triggered a line of assassins to slink in, each one silent. They moved fluidly, trainees parting for them to enter the centre of the circle. Mather nodded curtly to them, barking, "partner up!"

Walking confidently to a recruit, it was clear the biggest and strongest were being selected first. With every partnering, frustration bubbled inside her and her hands formed fists. Didn't she look like a worthy assassin? She scoffed, lifting her head higher. Apparently not.

A female assassin grabbed Tan, being one of the taller women and strode away. She sent an apologetic glance backwards, to which Elle merely shrugged and directed her full attention to a hangnail, ignoring the agent approaching her.

Someone cleared their throat. She looked up, surprised at the man's handsome face. "Cerid," he said as a way of introduction. Strands of honey-brown hair fell in front of his misty eyes, which met hers.

"Vhiena," Elle offered.

Gesturing for her to follow, she gladly kept behind a few paces as he scouted an empty area. Muscles rippled underneath his shirt as he moved, his strides purposeful. Once satisfied, he turned to her, offering a wooden stick. She looked at it incredulously, then back to the smirking agent, noticing the single dimple in his cheek when his lips curled upwards.

Elle twirled the stick in her hands, weighing it.

"Confident, are we?" His voice was husky and the assassin could see that such a voice was capable of spinning words to his every advantage. They began to circle each other. "Just a bit." She replied.

He stepped forwards, testing her. Their poles met with a crack, both protesting as they met. Cerid planted his feet, pushing against her. With his weight he could overpower her—should she pretend to lose her balance? That plan got caught in her throat before she even considered yielding her pride.

A worthy opponent.

Her blows rained down quicker, slicing the air with her wooden pole with an audial whoosh. Cerid blocked each one smoothly, managing to sneak some offensive strikes between them. After a while, they both were panting. "Tired yet?"

"Never." She bared her teeth.

After they had been working long enough, he raised his hand in defeat. The victory tasted sour in her mouth. If her limbs weren't so leaden she would have challenged him to continue. A sheen of sweat coated her face and upper body. "You had some good moves there." Cerid spoke, wiping his face with the back of his hand, "you just need control."

She had control, thank you very much.

Elle brushed past him to the water fountain. "This is coming from who exactly?"

"Someone who could have floored you the second rage clouds your vision." He strode away before Elle could retort. She curled her free hand into a fist, glaring as the blonde grabbed shorter, more sword-like versions of the wooden poles they had sparred with.

"This time," he announced, smirking, "I'll actually try."

It took all of her willpower not to snatch Ravaryn from under her mattress and hurl it into his back.

#

Later that evening after putting up with the overly confident Cerid all day, all Elle wanted to do was bury her head into a pitcher of wine. Or slap Tan in the face, as she poked fun at her pitiful sulking. Over the din of the grub hall, packed with agents came Tan's whining impressions.

Mentioning the bastard had been a mistake.

Elle sat on the unforgiving bench in silence, swirling the watered down wine and staring as the crimson liquid sloshed against the sides of the glass. "Oh, Cerid, I can't stand how you ignored my charms!" Tan waved a hand in the air dramatically, "your handsomeness makes training oh-so-hard!" Her wails continued.

Pressing the heel of her hand to her temple, Elle groaned. "I haven't had much sleep recently, I think I'll turn in." Tan looked up at her, Elle waved her away. "You—stay here. Night."

They muttered their respective goodbyes, Tan shooting Elle a curious look as she sipped from her own cup. "Going to find Cerid?" She muttered into it. Elle's ears pricked at the comment and laughter following but she didn't turn. Most of the candles had spluttered out, those remaining casting the room in an eerie glow. Others dripped as their wicks burned low, flames dancing.

Ducking past a group of giggling trainees, Elle kept her head down and feet moving. When something closed around her wrist and yanked her into one of the alcoves in the walls she cursed herself for being so blind. Her eyes focused. A shadow looms before her, holding her in place. This silhouette gradually formed into Leo's cheery face.

Relief made her body sag as he wrapped his arms around her. "I'm glad you made it in." Remembering the plan, she pushed him away again, glancing around at the empty hallway. "We aren't supposed to contact each other!" She hissed.

"I know, I know." He muttered, fishing in his pockets. She had to admit, the uniform suited him. "Didn't know your section...Jax received word from Mikel...ah!"

Another few agents chattered as they passed. Elle pressed her body closer to the wall. "He must have sent it the day we left." She made out Leo's nod in the darkness. "Read this in a safe place." A folded slip of paper was stuffed into her hands.

"Easier than explaining—"

His hushed reply was abruptly cut off by a loud comment "Well, what's this here? Vhiena. I know I told you to take it easy tonight, but I didn't quite mean..." Cerid gestured between the pair. "This."

She scowled at him. "I'm surprised you can still walk with that stick rammed so far up your ass. What I do in my private time doesn't concern you."

Cerid smirked, "I am your mentor. You can't afford petty distractions." His eyes flicked to Leo. "Who are you, recruit?"

"Aerly." Leo stiffened, looking confused between Elle and the agent before them.

"A Western name? Where's the trademark accent?" He folded his arms.

"My parents were influenced by the West," Leo recovered smoothly, still holding Elle in his steadfast grip. Cerid's eyes missed nothing. His next words were coated in glorious boredom, "unless your interest with my student is...imperative, Vhiena is my responsibility and I'd hate to see her breaking curfew."

Elle broke from Leo's grip, glaring at the blonde agent. He was handsome, as much as she hated to admit it. With a small nod, Leo pushed himself off the wall, muttering, "you be careful, Vhiena" before sauntering off.

She watched him go emotionlessly, tucking the paper into her back pocket. Then there was Cerid. He didn't ask any more probing questions as he escorted her back to Section 6, standing like a barrier behind her.

"I'll see you bright and early tomorrow morning. Rest up trainee." His misty eyes looked her up and down, "you need it."

The assassin had no words for him other than a vulgar gesture in his direction. His answering chuckle made her clench her jaw harder.

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