My new roommate and I stare at each other. She pops another fried atball into her mouth, chewing loudly without breaking eye contact until eventually, she swallows.
"Want one?" she asks, holding out one of the morsels to .
"Oh, um, no thank you," I tell her.
She nods and slurps it down, continuing to lie on her side and stare at with half-lidded eyes. The room is pretty small, containing two beds, two nightstands, and very little else. There are drawers under the bed fra, one of which is haphazardly ajar and full of what I can only assu are my roommates clothes. An open trunk, containing nothing but a single pair of undergarnts, takes up a significant percentage of what little floor space lies between the beds.
"Are you just going to stand there, or...?"
I flick my eyes back towards my roommate, a blush eating my cheeks.
"I, uh, I'm not sure where to sit," I manage.
"Well, this is my bed," she says slowly, indicating the very thing she is currently lounging upon. "So presumably, that would be your bed."
I glance at the yet-untouched piece of furniture and nod slowly. Awkwardly, I walk over and gingerly sit down, paying careful attention to the feeling of my quills scraping against the grooves they've already dug into the inside of my armor. My oversized plate does a pretty decent job of giving them enough room to not stab out of the bottom when I sit down, but I know that if I flex or extend them even a little bit they will shear right through the back and expose . They also still make sitting uncomfortable, so I carefully copy my roommate's lounging pose instead.
We return to staring at each other.
"So" the freckled young woman says. "You need help moving any of your stuff in?"
"My stuff?" I ask. What the heck kind of stuff is she talking about?
"You know like your things? Things that you own?"
"Oh, I don't have any," I tell her.
"Oh."
She munches down another atball. I really, really hope that Galdra won't forget to set up food for every day.
"Well, I'm Gina," my roommate tells . "Nice to et you or whatever."
"O-oh! Sorry, I'm so rude!" I stamr quickly. I can't believe I forgot to introduce myself! "My na is Lark. It's nice to et you, Gina."
She nods in acknowledgnt, popping down yet another little at-morsel.
"Are you like, going to take that armor off, or?"
"No," I tell her.
A silence stretches between us once again, the weight of social awkwardness ever-multiplying.
"Okay," Gina eventually allows.
With the conversation concluded, it quickly becos apparent that I have nothing to do. I'm fairly certain that I'm supposed to just wait until training starts, whenever that is, so I descend into torpor and let ti start to flow by. Torpor is an interesting experience, one that I've had to describe a few tis for human friends back in my village. I can only assu that my explanations are about as unilluminating as the descriptions they gave for dreaming and sleep, two things that I have never and likely will never experience. I am still awake during torpor, still aware, and once it ends I can look back at my mories of the experience and recall everything that occurred. Yet during a torpor I do not really think. My mind simply stops, resting whatever parts of it make up while still remaining alert to danger. My torpor will end if I am disturbed, or if I sll sothing strange, or if a loud noise happens nearby. So part of is also dimly aware on a conscious level, and can choose to end the experience. Perhaps a good way to describe it is like ditation, but rather than a skill I have built over the course of my life it is sothing that cos to my body naturally. I mainly use it to accelerate my perception of ti, and it is for that use I apply it now.
"Yo, Lark, did you die?" Gina asks what I estimate to be about sixteen and a half hours later.
"Huh?" I ask, snapping back to myself. "Oh, no, sorry. I was... resting."
Now that I think about it, throughout my entire torpor I have been staring directly at Gina's bed. I, um, hope she's not too weirded out by that. I've noticed that humans don't like being stared at for extended periods of ti.
"Yeah, okay. Well, there's like, a package for you. The delivery person was pretty insistent I co get you for it."
"Oh!" I say, my armor clattering as I quickly get to my feet. "Thank you. Sorry about that."
I carefully step around her and rush out the door, my sense of sll imdiately guiding towards what I can only assu to be my package. An annoyed-looking ssenger stands in the front room of the barracks and holds a box, which they hand to after I confirm that my na is Lark. Then I quickly rush to the bathroom, because I'm not sure where else I can get the privacy required to remove my helt and eat.
"Why did it have to be mice?" I grumble to myself, making sure the outhouse is securely locked before I remove the box's lid.
Inside are four comatose field mice, and rely looking at them has my mind flashing back to that horrible final mont with Vita where she sohow stuffed what remained of my father into a rodent just like these and convinced to swallow him. It tasted far too good, a flavor I will never be able to get out of my mind. I know these creatures will be nothing like that experience, but I still stare at them with both a primal anticipation and a full-bodied loathing. There's a note inside the box as well, assuring that I will receive a similar one daily and instructing on how to contact the sender, who I assu is either Penelope or one of her subordinates, if it doesn't match my dietary needs.
I drop them down my throat, because as much as I find the act a self-inflicted torture, eating mice does indeed match my 'dietary needs.' I resecure my helt and exit the lavatory, making my way back towards my room. I run into Gina along the way, however, idling in a common room to which most of the dorm hallways connect. With her are a number of other humans that I assu are other trainees, and as I pass my eyes over the group my heart drops into my infinite void of a stomach as I recognize one of them. I can't believe this. Surely soone or sothing is having a laugh at my expense.
"Yo, Lark," Gina calls out, waving over. "Quit being a weirdo and introduce yourself."
I flinch at the sound of my own na, not wanting it to enter the ears of those present, but I do as she requests. I introduce myself in sequence to all the people here. A thin fellow with curly light brown hair, a stout-looking tan young man, an older man with greying hair, and
Bently, Bently introduces himself. Its nice to et you.
Beneath my helt I lick my lips, the mory of his exquisite-tasting flesh burning brightly in my mind.
"Y-yeah," I agree. "It's nice to, um, get formally introduced."
"Ha ha, yeah!" he agrees jovially. "You know, it's funny. I used to be a hunter before this, and I actually went on two missions to deal with a monster that ended up being nad 'Lark.'"
"Uh. Yep."
Does he not recognize my voice? I guess I've kind of changed a lot, and Lark is a human na, but surely he is at least a little suspicious?
"I was a hunter too, actually," Gina volunteers.
"Oh! We should do like, a whole et and greet!" the thin man declares. Where we co from, what our talents are, all that stuff! Ill go first! My na is Xavier and I have a kineticism talent that only works on water! Ive never been anything cool like a hunter before, but my Preacher said that my talent is super strong and I should join the Templars! Um I like stories! Okay, whos next?
A powerful talent, huh? He certainly slls really strong, I'll give him that. Physically, though, he looks kind of out of shape, the sort of al that won't survive many bites. Not that I should be thinking of people that way, but I guess that's my fra of reference. I force my brain to make a better comparison: despite being an adult, he has the physique of one of the children in the village who haven't been set to manual labor yet.
"Harvey," the next man grunts. He's got an interesting collection of scars, a shaved head and piercing green eyes. He slls powerful, and clearly has a lot of delicious muscle on his bones. "Forr tactical officer for the Valkian army, honorably discharged to transfer to the Templars. Offensive wide-range kynamancy talent. I guess my hobby would be painting? But I'm shit at it."
"Language," I whisper, but everyone ignores .
"I'm Bently!" the huge young man reminds everyone. "I was a hunter! Then I stopped for a while, because so really serious things happened on a bad job. One of my teammates turned out to be an animancer and killed my friend."
Holy fuck, Gina says. Oh, holy fuck, I rember you! Werent you on the blue girls team? Watchers eyes, was she?
Yeah, Bently confirms. Yeah, it was bad. I didnt know what to do for a while, but I decided that I want to stop people like that from doing more harm, so I applied for the Templars.
Shit. I cant believe we were so close to an animancer that whole fucking ti.
Language, I say again.
Its one thing for a High Templar to swear, but these people are trainees like ! What if a bunch of children listen to Templars with potty mouths?
"Okay goody two shoes, you introduce yourself then," Gina grunts. "Who's behind that helt, huh?"
"Is it true that you've never taken your armor off?" Xavier asks, eyes nearly sparkling.
I squirm uncomfortably under the attention, not entirely sure what to say.
"I I'm Lark," I tell them again. "I'm supposed to keep the armor on all the ti. Sorry."
"Why's that?" Xavier presses. "Why did you join the Templars? What's your talent? Where do you co from?"
I take a nervous step backwards.
"Um, I is it okay if I dont say?" I ask.
I an, I guess you dont have to, Xavier says, clearly unhappy about it, but everybody else is sharing and were going to be training together for months so I figure we should know each other.
Oh no! No, dont give a disappointed face like that! I dont want to be seen as an for not doing what everyone else is doing, but what do I say?
"I just Im a criminal, I guess, I admit. I did a bunch of terrible things and I joined the Templars to atone. Im supposed to keep the armor on so that nobody recognizes . Uh. I like flowers. And I'm not sure if it's a talent, but I have a perfect mory?"
"Woah," Xavier says. "That's fucking cool. What cris did you commit?"
I they werent cool, I tell him firmly. I dont want to say.
Redemption stories are cool, Xavier insists.
"Woah, hey, you don't have to room with her," Gina complains. "Now Im going to be worried about whatever the fuck it is she did."
"I promise I won't hurt you," I tell her.
"Damn, I feel so much better," Gina answers, dripping with sarcasm. "Whatever. I'm a forr hunter too. I don't have any fancy fucking talents, but I'm a damn good enhancer. I move fast and I hit hard."
"Like senior hunter Remus?" Bently asks her.
"Yeah," Gina confirms. "He taught ."
He taught too! Bently says happily. Well, I guess mostly he just kicked a lot.
I an, thats training.
No, it isnt, Harvey grunts.
"I'm lik," the tan, stout man suddenly interrupts, and Im from Litia Village. The Templars are the only place I can use my talent. Thats all I want to say.
lik is shorter than any of the rest of us, and he looks a bit younger than the others as well, but he's incredibly broad-shouldered and likely outweighs Xavier and I. Of course, I'm actually a bit lighter than a human my size even counting all my extra body parts, likely due to the katzels I ate so much of when I was small. Being light has its upsides and downsides; its mainly good because it allows to change direction more easily even at the incredible speeds I can reach, but it has the problem of making any attacks I land not hit as hard as they could if I was a more normal weight. This hardly matters when I'm just using my teeth on things, but that's unlikely to be an option while I'm pretending to be human. When I killed my brother because he was attacking Eun a year ago, I probably could have twisted his entire head off rather than only breaking his neck if I just had a bit more montum behind . Which, you know, wouldve made quite the difference.
Im pretty sure my kind cant survive decapitation. Pretty sure.
We all chat for a while after that, by which I mostly an everyone else chats and I am also there. I enjoy listening, though, and nobody seems outwardly opposed to my presence which is good enough for . My village was a wonderful place. I have so many happy mories that I don't deserve from all the tis I played with Eun's kids, learned weaving techniques from her father, or stayed up late at night while she was drunk and listened to her talk about her late husband. I hope they are all doing okay without .
Later that night, we are given our instructions on where and when to arrive for our first training session. In the barracks yard by first light. Easy enough. I recall how long tonight's island darkens the sky, and resolve to torpor until an hour beforehand.
Ti passes by, and my first day in the barracks completes without incident.
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