The Parables

Aliss - Precinct One

Aliss - Precinct One

Four brick walls the colour of ash march around the training facilities, towering over the equipment like mountains overshadowing the trickling river. Glass barriers slice through like knives cutting into a cake, demarcating each specific region of requirement. Sparks of golden light bestow spotlights upon the few gathered in the central chamber of the building, illuminating its purpose at the same time. Silence stitches up the void between each individual. Even as more filter into the chamber, no one dares to speak. Only the light pattering of footsteps can be blamed for a disturbance.

"They need to hurry up so we can start already," Hawke grumbles quietly behind me.

"Shhh." Ria silences him and places a hand on my shoulder. "Don't embarrass her."

"He's got a point," I whisper back, glancing over my shoulder to smile at my Tutors. "We've been stood here for ages."

Ria nods her head at something in front of her. "Well, there's the chief instructor now. Right on time."

Turning back to the front, a tall, broad-shouldered young man strides confidently into the central chamber, his heavy footsteps resounding against the glass walls. A pair of piercing grey eyes sit below a shaved head, complimenting his pointed chin and sharp features. His lips are pressed into a tight, thin line, defining his temperament. Not good. Two sentries follow him, marching in step with each other, rifles clasped firmly in their hands. Suddenly, the footsteps stop. Then I realise I'm staring at the floor. Glancing up, my eyes land upon the man. He stands at ease directly in the middle of the semi-circular formation of Martyrs and Tutors. His eyes do a quick sweep of the subjects stood before him, starting at Sixteen's Martyr and ending at me. He smiles. 

"Welcome, Martyrs, to The ninety-ninth Parables." His booming voice threatens to shatter the glass. "My name is Fabian Doyle and this is the Concordiam, our very own specially-designed training centre. This will be your home for the next five days. After that, you'll be on your own in whatever conditions the Labyrinth offers to you. It is up to this place and your Tutors to prepare you for your journey and grant you the greatest possibility of surviving The Parables.

"Each day for four days, you will receive five hours of training each morning. In total: twenty-five minutes per activity plus one break. Use this time wisely because I can guarantee that you'll find it'll slip by quicker than you'd expect. In addition, during the group training, you will be in pairs. Both of you will be doing the same activity at the same time but in different chambers. This applies to all of the activities apart from the following ones: the stamina run; the speed run; the obstacle course and the break. For those four elements, you will train in the same chamber with your pair. For the rest, you'll be in adjacent chambers to each other. You will both be tutored separately despite sharing chambers. Plus, if you make it here earlier than our start time, feel free to train until the clock strikes eight.

"However, in the afternoon, there will be seventy-five-minute slots each day for you to train privately with your Tutors. On the fifth day, you will participate in five assessments to test your ability in each category you are training in. The overall scores of these assessments will determine what equipment you'll have with you during The Parables. Higher scores result in more equipment. So, train hard and do your best - that way you will have the best chance of surviving, and possibly even winning. Any questions?"

Everybody remains mute. Nobody dares to speak.

Doyle smiles somewhat slyly. "Good." He beckons one of the sentries over, and from the sentry, he receives a manila folder. Turning back to face us, he clears his throat. "This folder contains your timetables for the next four days. It includes when you have private training as well as your time slots for the morning activities. When I call out your name, come and collect your timetable." He clears his throat again. "Aliss Monroe."