The Iron Butterfly - Page 28/55

A training schedule had been sent to my room the night before with a stack of books, and I glanced over it in relief to see that it seemed pretty harmless. I had History of Calandry, Ancient Denai Languages and a few hours in the arena.

Nothing that shouted; hey you’re going to learn to destroy the world. I still didn’t see what good it would do to take classes, considering I really didn’t believe that I had any significant powers.

Ducking out of my room and locking my door, I rushed to make my way toward the indoor arena, hoping I wasn’t late. I wore one of Berry’s custom outfits she passed on to me, which consisted of tan pants, a white wrap-around skirt that skimmed my knees trimmed in blue and purple designs, a white short-sleeve top with more designs stitched around it with a leather pouch for books. It felt very light and airy. It was the most comfortable I had felt in a while. I felt normal. Well, at least until I approached the three story high wing-shaped entry doors to the training arena.

This was the first time I dared to approach the doors for fear of being turned away, and my charade revealed. We were told that the doors would never open for anyone who wasn’t a Denai. Avina and I had spent many nights trying to guess what was beyond the silver wings. Now I was about to find out and I didn’t want to.

Pausing, I stood in front of the silver doors and deep down I knew they wouldn’t open for me. I knew they would deny me entrance the same way Adept Cirrus’ mercury stone denied me.

“Open,” I demanded.

Nothing.

“Open, says me,” I quipped, playing off of an old child’s tale.

Nothing.

The Adepts never told me what to do if the Arena denied me entrance. Should I wait to the side of the doors in the shadows and dart in behind another student? Or would the massive doors shut on me mid passage and crush me? Believe me, the doors could crush a person, they were too large to be moved by sheer force alone.

I was still debating what to do when I noticed there was more to the iron winged doors than I first thought. The sculpted detail in the iron wings was masterful, down to each intricately sculpted feather that sprouted from a deep well-muscled back.

“Can’t get in?” A voice spoke up from behind me, startling me out of my reverie. Turning, I saw Adept Cirrus.

I shook my head no.

“We were wondering if Cassiel would let you in,” Adept Cirrus frowned at the winged doors. “Nevertheless, one of us will escort you in, to make sure Cassiel behaves, and doesn’t try anything,” he smirked.

I was right. The doors would have crushed me.

“I’m glad that I came to check on you. I’ll speak with your instructor later.” Adept Cirrus walked toward the doors and they immediately opened for him. Staying as close to him as I dared, I scurried after the Adept, almost stepping on his heels, while making sure to keep one eye on the doors.

They opened only long enough for us to safely pass through and then they closed with a thud once we were inside. Turning, I saw that the front side of the doors was shaped into a thirty foot tall man, arms crossed over his chest with giant wings sprouting from his back. This must be Cassiel and only the Denai would ever see the true beauty of the doors. Well, except for me.

“Here you are.” Cirrus pointed to the Arena and I stumbled into him when I followed his long finger with my eyes.

The Arena was an indoor world magically compressed into a small building. I never noticed upon entering the arena that I was no longer walking on stone, but grass. We had walked right into a realm consisting of every natural element known to man within a few square miles. There were mountains, woods, rivers, plains and I didn’t have a clue as to what any of it was for.

“Just have a seat right over there and I’m sure you will do wonderfully,” Cirrus spoke, and gave me an encouraging slap on the back, which felt almost awkward.

I snorted in rebuttal and gave him an incredulous look.

Cirrus never saw it as he was already departing, the doors opening for him and then he was gone. Turning back around, I came face to face with Syrani.

Syrani was sitting on a wooden bench, her long legs crossed, surrounded by a bunch of young Denai. Her golden hair was twisted and wrapped upon her head and gave her the appearance of a queen presiding over her court.

“Here she is now,” she sniffed as if she smelled something rotten, and moved away from me and sat on the next section of arena seating, her entourage following.

Chewing on my thumb, I waited until the arena began to fill with late comers. Each of the Denai had a haunting quality about them and I was the obvious ugly duckling of the group.

They looked at me with a wary expression and purposely walked passed me to sit in another row. When it was obvious that no one was going to sit next to me, I felt my face turn beet red.

My eyes started to burn as I struggled to hold back my tears. I was stronger than this, I told myself. I can handle a bunch of stupid, petty Denai. I squinted my eyes, pretending to examine my boot. I blinked away any trace of the glittering evidence of my weakness.

A loud thunderclap rolled in; everyone looked up in expectation. A lone figure appeared out of the woods and literally walked across the flowing river to stand in front of the seated students.

This was my new instructor, I presumed. He was medium height with white blonde hair and he had the strangest grey eyes. Another clap of thunder rang out and I jumped. The instructor’s head turned my way and those strange grey eyes didn’t focus on me but looked through me. I squirmed in my seat nervously.

He glanced at me longer than necessary and then another crack of thunder followed and he looked toward the rest of the Denai sitting clustered away from me.

He had a disapproving look on his face as he gave the full force of his odd glare to the other students who started to shift in their seats uncomfortably.

“Well, it seems we have a new student. What’s your name, child?” His voice rumbled like the thunder.

“Thalia,” I stated.

“What clan are you from?” he looked at me thoughtfully.

“I’m not sure?” I wanted to disappear into the ground.

“No matter, what are your strengths?”

I looked down and shrugged my shoulders in answer, dropping me head down in defeat. I could hear the twitters of laughter echo in the arena. Now it was the instructor’s turn to turn bright red with anger.

“Silence!” he yelled as an angry crack of thunder split through the room. Immediately the students quieted down and a few looked duly chastised, while others looked bored.

“Well, let’s go on and pick up where we left off last week.” He managed to regain control of the class and began a review of basic strengths and weaknesses of different Denai gifts; weather, like our instructor, earth, water, transference, vision seeking, healing, mind speaking, and some students could shift forms.

After being called on a few times in class and not being able to answer a single question, the instructor had pity on me and quit calling on me altogether.

A few of the Denai helped demonstrate their gifts when the instructor was teaching. I watched dumbfounded as a small girl went to a tree sapling and made it grow to an adult tree, and a boy controlled the movement of the river. Instructor Weston controlled thunderstorms and seemed to enjoy showing off because every few minutes or so I would hear another crack of thunder.

When he finally dismissed the class, he asked me to stay after. I sat quietly, playing with the hem of my over-skirt trying to not make eye contact with anyone.