Road to War Part II: Yes, Anastasia

Show me the ways to get back to the Garden

The first day was difficult.  Perhaps not more so than she had begun to suspect, however.  The other girls were not friendly, but they helped her through the first day nonetheless.  She got lost frequently in the huge compound and one was always around to point her in the right direction.  In age, she was definitely the youngest.  The oldest was perhaps thirteen or fourteen, close to ten years her senior.  She tried not to think about how unfeeling the older ones looked, how focused on something she couldn't see or understand.

Before dawn, the girls got up from their beds, making them and then dressing carefully.  All of them wore the same long-sleeved leotard, though of varying colors.  She was soon made aware that the colors were worn by particular training groups; all of those in her group were young and wore white.  The oldest girls wore black, while the ones in the middle wore shades of grey or blue.  After they were dressed, they pulled back their hair, mostly in buns.  Natalia had never done such a thing before, and her hair was hardly long enough anyway, but one of the older girls did what she could to get the hair out of her face, at any rate.

Breakfast followed.  It was a long walk down to the kitchens, and the girls spoke little.  A few had formed friendships and talked quietly together, but most were silent.  They all sat at the same long table.  There were other groups of people there, most of them adults, but they did not speak to the girls and kept out of the way for the most part.  Breakfast itself consisted of eggs and fruits and was light.  This caused her to worry somewhat, but she found that the girls were fed regularly, every few hours, with protein-rich snacks.  It wasn't until the end of the day that they sat down to a big meal, though by then she was too tired to enjoy it much.

After breakfast, the girls split off into groups.  She was momentarily confused, but one of the other girls in white plucked at her sleeve and gave her a tentative smile.  She immediately smiled back, relieved, and the girl's smile spread.  "The beginners go this way," the girl explained, motioning down the hallway where the others in white were heading.

"Thank you," Natalia said fervently.

"My name is Yelena," she said as she led them after the others.

"Natalia," she replied, assessing her new friend.  She was perhaps two years older than herself, with long black hair carefully piled on her head, reminding her of the woman from the day before.  Her eyes were brown and warm.

"The first day is scary," Yelena agreed to her unspoken feelings as they walked.

"How long have you been here?"

Her look became faraway.  "I don't know.  Less than a year, I think."  She looked troubled.

Natalia eyed her carefully, wondering at her confusion.  "What do you learn here?"

The girls around her all turned to look at her, stone-faced.  Yelena glanced at them and back at her.  "No one's told you?"  She shook her head, eyes wide.  "We dance," Yelena said, an odd hardness in her voice to accompany such an innocuous statement.

"We should hurry," one of the others said, and the girls hastened down the corridor, Natalia trailing the group.

At her left, there were glass doors and windows, with white curtains on the inside.  Some of these were open enough for her to see some of the older girls, stretching gracefully.  Other rooms were empty, as far as she could tell from the hurried glances.  As one, they stopped at the fourth door.  It was opened before them and they filed in silently.  It takes a few moments before she was inside, and saw that it was much the same as the rooms she'd passed.

The floor was wooden, and of a lighter color than it had been at the entranceway of the facility.  On the far wall, there was a bar a little over half a meter from the ground, running the length of the room and in front of mirrors.  The girls in front of her had all walked over to the wall of mirrors, and she followed them.  Watching carefully, she mimicked as they stretched, using the bar to help.