EXALTED (An Exalted Novel) (16 page)

“Now, of course, you will be able to hunt anything that moves. The bows will have an advantage over you knife throwers.” He looks from Kwan and Trudi over to Ethan and me. Force obviously doesn’t know what “us knife throwers” are capable of. He interrupts my thoughts as he says something of importance. “I’ll show you how to make a simple snare to catch small animals, like squirrels and small rabbits.”

Force demonstrates how to make a snare with rope and branches. It all seems to jumble in my head. I have no idea what he just did. I guess I’ll have to rely on my daggers.

Our instructor moves on to addressing other possible resources. “Some of you may pass an abandoned city, town, or campground. If you are that fortunate—you may actually be able to find some bottled water or a container that collects rainwater. Now, I say you’d be fortunate, but it’s also extremely dangerous in these areas. While they look abandoned, most of them have marauders and even terrorists hiding out in them. We have trained you for these exact types of situations. Be on alert. They carry guns. If they see or hear you, they will come after you. Some are crazy enough to believe they can overpower an Exalted. If you do encounter anyone, make sure you take anything that could be useful to you after you make your kill. They may be keeping food close by, so check the immediate area as well.” Force pauses for a moment, looking over his pupils.

The lesson continues with a foreboding air. “As I said before, in the Third Trial you’ll all be separated and placed in different areas. Each of you will have a different experience with different types of food and resources available. Use common sense. If you see a fruit tree, fill your bag because you may not see any other food on the rest of your journey. Try to go over all the things you’ve learned about water, shelter, food, and fire. Pick up anything that you think could help you along the way.” Force takes a deep breath and looks into each of our eyes for a moment. He finally says, “This is your last class before the United Trials. Strength be with you all. You are dismissed.”

Force is a lot brighter than he appears. I appreciate all the training he has given us over the past six weeks. He has been a helpful instructor. I bow and say, “Thank you, sir.” The others follow my lead, bowing and thanking him for his efforts.

It’s going to be a long night, but thankfully the evening makeup class made it a little shorter. I hope that I can get some sleep.

I slept like a rock. No dreams of my father plagued me. No endless walls. One minute I laid down for the night and the next, it was morning. I lay stretching and counting the ceiling tiles for a while, since the morning run was canceled due to the First Trial. Nerves are already beginning creep into my system.

Val has already gotten up, dressed, and is now preparing her bow and sheath of arrows. She checks each one for quality. Not wanting to cause suspicion, I hop out of bed to dress in my regular training attire. I leave my long hair loose for now, letting the soft waves hide my anxious face.

I remove my belt and knives from the trunk at the end of my bed. Inspecting them calms me a little. I take my time with each dagger and knife. I sharpen and polish them to the best of my ability. When I’m finished, they shine. I look into the reflective surface of my large skinning knife. My haunted pale face stares back at me. I continue to look at my reflection for some time, trying to convince myself that this will be easy.

I’m not nervous about my wellbeing with this First Trial, but I am nervous about my score. I want to finish first. I’m confident in my skills, but I can’t shake the butterflies that flutter in my stomach. They feel as if they are trying to beat themselves right out of my quivering insides.

My knives clink together a few times as I load them back into my belt. The calming effect from cleaning them is now over. I have to stop shaking before Val or someone else sees me. Exalted do not and cannot display such shameful reactions to competition.

Once Val and I are both finished preparing our weapons and ourselves, we decide that it’s time to set off. We leave our room and head to the United Trials Arena. “Strength be with you, Val.” I wish my friend good fortune today. It’s the first time we’ve spoken to each other all morning.

“And with you as well, Mena.” Her strides are long and purposeful, her head is held high, and her right hand is firmly grasped around her sleek bow. I am projecting the same confident attitude. Inside, I feel like I might shatter.

We don’t utter another word to one another along the way. The general mood feels like the calm before the storm. An eerie silence blankets the air as we join the other Exalted and fellow competitors that swarm the grounds. They’re all making their way to the same destination. Exalted, who aren’t scheduled for duty, are allowed in the Arena as spectators. The Republic believes it’s good for them to see us compete. They want them to have confidence in their new comrades. I haven’t seen my parents this week, so I don’t know if either of them will be watching. I hope they aren’t. I don’t need the added pressure.

Exalted flood the open gates of the arena to find the best seats, while the trainees are herded into a side room off to the right. It’s like entering the heart of a thunderstorm. The holding room is gloomy and located directly below the stands. The booming, from the Exalted climbing the metal steps and the stomping once they’re in place, echoes through the small space. It makes my heart race even faster.

Force is waiting for us inside the holding room. He is dressed in a formal black uniform with his armband showing one perfectly straight, purple line. His head is extra shiny today. “Form two lines, one for boys and one for girls. Get in alphabetical order. You’re names will be announced as you enter the arena. Girls sit to the left. Boys sit to the right. Got it?” Force is very blunt with his instructions about the proceedings.

“Yes, sir!” we roar.

We scramble around one another finding our rightful spot in line. I end up being behind Kinah. She looks ferocious today. I fear she might bite me, so I don’t stand too close. Thankfully, she is distracted by the commotion and events ahead. She ignores me for now.

“Silence!” the announcer booms from outside. A male voice begins calling all of the girls first. “Welcome to the United Trials. I’ll begin by calling the female competitors. Adira. Bria. Etana. Kinah.” Each is followed by the thunder of feet hitting metal. Then, I hear my name over a loud speaker. “Mena.” The crowd stomps their feet as I enter the massive open space of the arena. I squint as the bright sun temporarily blinds me. There’s not a single cloud floating in the bright, blue sky.

The announcer continues calling the girls. “Neima. Trudi. Valesca.” All eight of us sit as instructed on the bottom row to the left. Of the eight, I know that I’m the only one that is scared.

“Now, for the male competitors. Az.” I think the stomping grows louder when Az appears, but I could be imagining it. The announcer doesn’t stop for the noise to lower. He continues reading the list of boys with his deep monotone voice. “Chasin. Cuyler. Ethan. Garrison. Kwan. Leen. Richard.”

There are eight male trainees and eight female trainees. It’s the first time I realize the significance of this even number for the pairings. If I decide to leave, I will consequently be leaving one boy without a partner. He will have the option of repeating the Trials next year or choosing an older unpaired or widowed female. I don’t like knowing I hold someone’s fate in my hands. The realization of this makes me feel terrible.

Repeating the Trials happens quite often since the classes don’t always have an even number. The male or female that scores the lowest will then join the younger class for the Trials the following year. This year, we don’t have an older Exalted repeating their Trials.

The First Trial is a test of skill. We will demonstrate our abilities with our weapon or weapons. The floor of the arena holds two separate testing areas. Platform A is for weapons that can be thrown or shot from a distance: the bows, knives, and spears. Platform B is for close contact weapons: the swords and blunt force weapons like clubs or axes. Each of the two areas is scored slightly different. Platform A houses a huge wooden board, very much like the one from training. It has the same dots that cover the surface, but there are many more. If I were to stand next to the board, it would probably rise another three or four feet over my head. Six wooden figures stand in a semicircle on Platform B. They’re waiting to get pulverized by the trainees.

The male announcer returns to the microphone. This time he waits for the crowd to quiet. “The competitors will be competing in the first of three trials today. We look forward to them joining us in the ranks soon. Do not disappoint us, trainees.” He waits for the stomping to once again die down before continuing. “We will begin with the female trainees today. Strength be with you all.”

The spectators bang their feet in anticipation for the first competitor to be announced. The male announcer directs, “Adira, ready yourself behind the white line on Platform A. A red light will shine on one of the dots. It will do so again on another dot and so on. You will have 100 arrows to fire within a 90 second time frame. You will then be scored by hits. Any unused arrows will be deducted from your score. The table to your right has extra arrows with which you can refill your sheath. This goes for all bows and knife throwers as well! Begin when the alarm sounds.”

That board probably has over 2000 dots on it. Dread fills the pit of my stomach as I sit and watch the first trainee.

The alarm wails, directing Adira to begin. She fires her first arrow. It sails through the air and strikes the center of its intended target. Her bow is reloaded and ready for the next mark. She lands most of her shots, but I am only counting her misses now. She has missed 16 out of 50. If her score thus far is any indication, she will not receive a high ranking. This must be the unfortunate one Val was talking about. Now I see why my friend said we don’t need to worry about her in the Trials.

By the time Adira gets to the second half of her arrows, her arm is visibly growing tired. It’s causing her to miss more shots. Eventually, she runs out of time with three unused arrows. She finishes with a score of 63.

Bria is up next. She and Adira could be twins. They look so much alike with their white blonde hair, striking blue eyes, and similarly sleek bows. I would bet that Bria is a better shot. And she proves to be, but only slightly. Her score is 71.

“Etana! You will be our first competitor on Platform B. Please ready yourself with your club at the center of the figures on the white X. Competitors on Platform B will scored similarly to Platform A, but with time compensation for a larger range of movement. A small red light will shine down on the six figures. It will appear on different parts on their bodies. You must strike that location quickly and move onto the next light. The figures are made out of a special material that will not allow your weapons to get lodged in them. You will have 120 seconds to complete your 100 hits. Begin when the alarm sounds,” the announcer says. The crowd stomps in response, ready to see a trainee perform on Platform B.

Etana holds her slim club over her right shoulder. She’s ready to swing it at one of the lifeless forms. The alarm sounds. A red light shines on the fourth figure’s rib cage.
Whack!
She hits her intended target. When the next light shines down, she easily swings her club over her head and smash’s it into the first figure’s head. I’m surprised to see that the figures don’t move in the slightest when they’re hit. 

This hardly seems fair. It appears that the trainees on Platform B have such an easier task to conquer, but when the alarm sounds for Etana to stop, she still has 18 strikes to go. After deducting her misses, she ends up with a score of 80. Before Etana started, I thought that missing those larger targets would be hard to manage. It appears that swinging your weapon back and forth—between multiple figures, multiple times—gets your mind to start playing tricks on you. Etana was probably seeing red dots where there weren’t any. I hope I don’t have the same problem on Platform A.

Kinah is called next. I watch her powerful, masculine body stride over to Platform B. She acts like she’s already won the whole thing. After the alarm sounds, she delivers blow after blow. They all land right on target. I’ve silently mocked her for her too thick biceps, but they are proving useful. They are powering the swing of her heavy, thorny club. Kinah is a beast.

As I watch her, I worry about my performance. I can only hope that my small build and speed will benefit me here as I throw my light daggers.

The alarm sounds for Kinah to stop. My breath catches when I realize she is left with one untaken hit. She also missed one target so she finishes with a 98. A lump forms in my throat as I become aware of my need to score a 98. And I’m next.

In addition to the lump in my throat, I feel like I vomit when my name is announced. “Mena! Proceed to Platform A,” the announcer orders. Hopefully, the crowd will think that I’m confident and eager, and not that I’m nervous and scared. I puff my chest out and walk with false self-assurance to Platform A.

Being the first competitor with daggers is nerve-wracking. I haven’t had a chance to see how we compare to the bows. I glance at the table close to where I will be standing. It has 90 extra daggers for me to use, and it sits just to the right of the white line.

As I approach the line, a sudden unexpected calm eases over my body. It starts from my heart and radiates outward to my fingers and toes. As I stand here ready to compete, I truly feel like the confident Exalted I’m meant to be. I know I can do this. I have the advantage of being able to throw accurately with both hands. Most knife throwers
can
throw with both hands, but they don’t always find their mark. It’s risky for them to attempt it at the Trials. But I will.