Dawn of Fog and Glass

Chapter Fourteen: Dawn of Fog and Glass

I discover three important things throughout the rest of the day: one, the students have the option of spending their recess in the courtyard, which would never happen at Marksberg (we've already been exposed to the Fog, so what's the damage of more Fog time?); two, Draco is a sports person, which I wouldn't have pegged him for, and spends recess each day on a run around the institute, swarmed by officers; and three, toxicity is common, passed through fake smiles and quick snatches of conversation. The last one isn't as surprising, but tiring.

          I barely have time to catch my breath before Training in the afternoon.

          Tyrone is as animated as yesterday, his energy bright enough to sap up mine. After leading us through the same warmup and allowing us to skip runs again, our rotations pick up where we left off. My group heads off to the third rotation, the simulators. These differ from the one at Marksberg; about the same, but taller and wider, and the weapons selection isn't nearly as nice. Odd. I guess they emphasize the use of powers over weapons. I, for one, know I can't handle my powers and I can't shoot for shit, so I head automatically over to a table glinting with throwing knives. Orion always teased me for not being tall or heavy enough to hold a sword. Still, he can't argue that I'm a menace with twin daggers.

          I run my fingers over the knife handles, stopping at a pair with leather handles harbouring a thin, long blade. I pick them up in my hands, swinging them around a little. They're balanced in my hands. Even. Sufficient. Not as good as those at Marksberg, but they'll do the job.

          I grab a weapons belt hanging beside the table and slot the knives into their respective spots on my sides, joining Draco, Beth, and Dominic at the entrance to the simulator.

          Draco eyes me weirdly. "You know you don't need those, right?"

          He hands me a black simulator armband for tracking my score, and I strap it around my upper arm.

          "We're about to enter a simulation featuring Fog and dozens of Crawlers attacking from all sides, and my abilities are useless without control. I need them."

          He shrugs. "I guess I can't stop you. Ready?"

          I suck in a deep gulp of air, waiting expectantly to see whatever is behind those closed simulator doors.

          The staff operating the simulator smile at us. One says, "Everyone ready to go?"

          She doesn't wait for our answers, pulling open the doors. A puff of frigid air billows over us, cascading down my shoulders and licking my ankles ferociously.

          The doors shut behind us, and I hear the click of a lock. As if we would try to escape.

          Should we be trying to escape?

          Rhymie's voice bounces around my head. You'll never get out. I push the thought aside, my right hand hovering over the handle of the dagger in its garter. Just if I need it. I'm best with my fists, but the daggers always help.

          The simulator starts with a whir. Following in its wake is a mechanical hum that crescendos further and further and further and wow, the glass is really pumping around me today.

          I don't notice my fingers closing around the knife's hilt until the leather is warm under my touch.

          Brannigan always told us to stick together in the simulators, no matter what. Keep our backs pressed together, fight for each other, win for each other. Everyone-for-themselves is a death wish in this scenario. Well, if this scenario were real.