The Forsaken

3

A sudden whir from the outside took me by disturbance. I trembled, quickly falling limply from one side to the concrete ground. My cross-crossed feet fell asleep as I fluttered my eyes in hopes that my hazy vision would return to normal from the cold atmosphere. Not even the imperceptible of warmth came from the smoldered umber kindling. Scratching the top of my head, my fingers faltered to unknot the bird's nest of my ringlets. I got up, marginally shaking from the apprehensive movement. The wooden matt where I previously slept on seemed to thinner throughout the years as I spend innumerable hours drowsing and warming up my limbs near the warmth of the blazing fire.

A graying vessel of water stood hidden from sight behind the fire, although it was my duty to fetch the water during that week. I blinked again, not believing what I was distinguishing. Perhaps Orion cared after all. A simper formed on my shivery lips to the thought as my hands caressed the hypnotic opaque liquid. Splotches of dirt, which caressed my features, came off my raw skin after a long battle of tug of war.

The gnarled, broad threads of the starchy linen apron hugged my curves and tied at the waist by old, hoary straps. Even drops of decaying parched blood were patterned into the frayed thing, probably from the last owner. Convulses ran down my spine as I accidentally touched a stain of scarlet. After cleansing off the revolting mess so many times that I almost rubbed my skin down to the bone, I thought that it was sufficient. My trusty ebony boots sat securely around my ankles, partially covering my pants of the same shade. The prolonged woolen tunic the color of vibrant pale charcoal was tucked into my pants. I placed a black cloak over my shoulders as I scampered down to the Center.

Some foolish Year 5s had watered the beds of chilled stems, which used to be luscious bushes of pulchritudinous roses with water. Overnight, it turned into puddles of frigid and glacial ice, which were impossible to tell apart by the naked eye. I felt my foot stumble as I exited sharply to my left. My fingers grabbed the doorknob instinctively just in time to keep myself from plummeting. Sighing a breath of relief, I hastened by pace down the empty alleyways to the Head Kitchens.

The back entrance was never locked as I flooded in through the doorway. Countless of radiating ligneous counter tops sat in rows in the seemingly monumental expanse. An colossal oven stands in the center, wood slightly wet from the rainy night before. The thick ambience of pine pervaded the atmosphere. I looked longingly at a compact countertop in the corner, where I usually cook. A bundle of fresh vegetables and greens sat together, gripped by a piece of swaddled vine. A smile lights up my features. Cooking with food straight from the indoor Gardens is a specialty. Only the best of the best students are allowed to do so.

A hand slithers around my slender wrist. I wince and jump back, knocking over a set of knives. They tumble down, almost hitting me on the way down. Adrenaline rushes through my blood as I grasp a kitchen knife in my palm. Right away, I place the blade to the person's neck, as if daring them to make another move.

"Ragneda, it's me!" The stormy hazel eyes belonging to the one and only Year 18 Ace Bourne. With a single sweep, his fingers coil around the knife handle. It falls over, as if in slow motion. The contact was deafening as it rung across the usually full room.

"Sorry." I mumbled sheepishly, choosing to look down instead. The same cloak that I have on adorned his skinny shoulders. It cascaded down his slim physique, only reaching below the crook of his knee while mine almost laid on the floor.

He laughed a throaty laugh before shoving me aside a little too hard.

"Ow." I groaned, overdoing it a bit to prove my point. My hands curl around the sore shoulder as I glared up at him. His dark completion seemed to glow by the pale candlelight of the room. By contrast, his pearly white teeth shined like looking at snow after being inside for too long.

"The only thing that got bruised is your ego. Get over it." He smirked, while placing his hands down on the top of my head as if to prove his own point.

"You know me to well." Rolling my eyes, I grab the kitchen knife back before chopping the vegetables without washing it first. Surely the apprentices didn't have to know.

"That's nasty." He said while faking a gagging reflex. "Remind me to never eat the stew."

"Got it, Boss." I cockily press my tongue on the inside of my cheek. "However, you're not innocent either. Remember the time you sneezed into the bowl of the head guard?"

For this, Ace has chosen not to speak and focus on his own portion of produce.

"He even came up to thank you afterwards for the most scrumptious meal he had the pleasure of eating." I continued, barely able to continue my composition.

"You're vile, Ragneda." The portion of green onions were perfectly cut into rounds, even though we started only seconds ago. No one could outdo Ace Bourne in cooking.

"But that's why you love me." Swishing my hair aside, I sunk in thought.

At this time, most of the apprentices probably were pushed around by their leaders in the forests to fight. Orion has given up completely in hopes that I would die and he could go back to his home. Probably to commit more crimes, no one knew. The highest general, Aleron, found out about this when he found Orion napping on his duties while I snuck out to "borrow" freshly baked sour biscuits from the Head Kitchens. As a punishment, I had to prepare foods for the entire camp along with the few survivors from Years 18. This supposedly treachery was meant towards Orion and me.

Orion was punished into digging graves for the bodies, but he never did. Anyone can go a long way with a resting face like his and a pair of knives resting in his pockets. He instead took the bodies to the fire of our hut each morning where no one was present in the camp. Apprentices and their masters wondered why the air smelled so deliciously of smoked meat every night. Little did they know what rested on their plates.

It was an unspoken secret between us. I couldn't kill or hunt to save my life, but if Aleron found out he would sacrifice me. Easy as that. The agreement kept me alive, and the stomachs of apprentices full.

However, Orion found it utterly hilarious. I could tell by his vicious stare as he made eye contact with me every night as the apprentices were given small portions of meat and vegetables in the Center Hall.

He always took an awfully long time chewing down the meat, making sure to suck the bone super loudly when I glared. A smooth and obnoxious wink came after that. Every time, I looked around the rest of the staff table. No one ever seemed to notice.

"Look at this." The loud tone belonging to one of my closest friends send me back down to Earth. His long fingers lifted up a perfectly cut meat strip. "Isn't this a beauty?" I manage to nod before barfing on his perfect little outfit.

"Why don't you ever eat it, then?" His orbs study me through the half-lit darkness. I racked my brain for some sort of response.

"I'm a vegetarian." I blurted out, shocked that I actually didn't lie. Seconds slowly tickled by as he took in my features.

"Fair enough." He glanced away down to his cutting board.