Conbellia

Chapter 15

"Jeanine Alison please." Vincent Damer is doing the hand combat exams. His voice sounds professional as he calls me into the room for the test. Not the slightest hint of recognition. There are only a few students left in the waiting room. The ones I'm not very close with. As I make my way to the door I can feel all their eyes on me. We don't get the results immediately. They will be announced in the evening. Those who don't make it will be training for two more weeks but if they don't make it then, they might be sorted into another rank.
I take a deep breath and walk in, closing the door behind me. The room is small with a mattress on the floor and a boxing bag in one corner.
"Task one: punch the boxing bag fifty times."
I position myself in front of the bag. One leg slightly to the front, body tense, fists balled. As I strike out for the first time, something feels wrong. Did I not eat enough? I did just this so flawlessly in training. What's happening? I feel myself getting weaker as I punch on. At ten hits I want to bend over and throw up. The bag barely flies back as I count twenty. I try to pull myself up but my body seems to have something else in mind.
Get it together.
Suddenly I remember the water they gave us before we entered the training section. Not that the knowledge does me a lot of good now. If I had been wise I'd have refused to drink it but then again, maybe they wouldn't have let me get away with that.
I can't...
Shut up.
Water...
Focus!
Sleep.
NO!
At twenty-nine I suddenly jerk out of this strange stupor. The thirtieth hit finally sends the bag flying. I can feel the weakness fading under my concentration. I can't help wondering what kind of test this is. Maybe they're testing how good we'd be in a real fight, stressed out and everything.  Whatever it is, I totally love this test. Honestly, best idea ever. As I punch the last time I want to just collapse on the floor.
Seems like that's not what Vincent has on his mind. I'm lifted up and thrown on the mattress. Thank God this is not the hard arena floor in which he usually performs this kind of action. Never thought I'd be a subject to that either. He hits my side with his foot. A low moan escapes my throat. I refuse to give up. Maybe he's strong, but I have a really high potential for leader and fighter. I have to show it. As he prepares to hit me again. I roll away, using the technique we learned at the last training session. I actually place a solid punch in his stomach. Not that it slows him down much. I guess he's used to it for a long time now.

"Well done." Vincent says after around ten minutes as I get up from the floor, gasping for air.
I leave the training section through the back door and head to the fighters' dorm. Kay is already there.
"How'd it go?" She asks me. Even though she was one of the first, she still looks exhausted.
"Dunno."
"Same here. He hit me right into my ribs."
"Thank God I'm not the only one."
"They mixed us something into that water."
"Glad you noticed."
"Not in your best mood, are ya?"
"I want to sleep. And to throw up because I'm sure I failed."
"Nah, Jane and failure? That's like North and South."
"Well, we'll know soon enough..."

It's  8 pm and everyone is gathered in the Damer's living room. There's my fellow fighting trainees, some older, well-known fighters and as I look around, I actually catch a glimpse of Steven Joyson. He has a glass of orange juice in his hand. Every table in the room has a unique kind of delicious food on it. I'd offered to help Cathy before, but she'd sent me up on the roof to get some rest. I'd watched a very beautiful sunset from up there.
Just as I'm about to get a pastry, someone pulls me close to himself. I don't have to look up to see who it is. Jeremiah kisses my hair lightly. I feel my heart start racing. Everything we had, it was all in our rooms, somewhere private. I wasn't sure I was ready for the whole country to know about it yet.
"Jere," I mutter "are you sure this is the best place?"
"You have to stop being so afraid of people, Jane. They'll find out anyway. Today would be a just as food as any other day."
"What if I failed?"
"That's impossible."
"Well, say I did. What then? Will you still want a girl who failed a simple fighting test?"
"It doesn't matter to me how you fight. You should know that."
Just as I'm about to respond, everyone goes quiet. I turn and see Vincent standing on the podium at the far end of the room.
"Ladies and Gentlemen! We are assembled here tonight, to announce the hand combat results of our fighting trainees! Please join  me in applauding for our  young fighters!"
He starts clapping and everyone joins in. I feel the fear rising in my chest. They never told us it would this big an occasion.
"I am delighted to announce, that only one student hasn't made the cut today!"
Another wave of applause.
"I will start announcing with those who made it from the least points, up to the most."
I inhale sharply. Jeremiah tightens his hold on my waist.
"Number thirty-one: Kyle Adernson.
Number thirty: Kacie DeLoune.
Number twenty-nine: Conrad Asher..."
The list goes on and on. Whoever hears their name immediately relaxes.
"Number two: Ed Geronos."
What about me?
"Number one:..."
Everyone passed. Please let me pass. Please. Please. Ple...
"Janine Alison!"
I'm greeted with screams and the loudest applause I've ever heard as everyone turns around to look at me. Jeremiah bends forward and presses his lips on mine. And that's enough. I forget everything around us. I forget about Dan not making the cut. I just let myself sink into this beautiful feeling cursing through my veins. I let them cheer for me and I let go. I let go of my worries, I forget why I'm here and who I am. It's just Jere and me. This is where I belong. Everything is OK, let the world fall apart, so long as I am in his arms.