Chapter 8 Determination

• Lilieth
• I can barely stand the pain when I sink into the wooden chair of the massive dining hall with my plate of breakfast held between both hands.
• My whole body is in pain. My nerves kept my muscles tight and my body alert and the fight left bruises all over my body. I inspected them as I bathed after class, grimacing at how bad they already looked and felt. They're much worse on my shoulder.
• So bad that I can hardly move my arm.
• We've been provided with balms that will help us heal faster. I'm familiar with the herbs because we use them, too, back in the village. I half-expected them to have fancier herbs, perhaps more advanced healing techniques. But no.
• In that aspect, we're all the same.
• If I apply the balm religiously throughout all of today, by tomorrow, the bruises will have faded to a sickening yellow. The pain will be gone, though. Eating will help me heal faster and I'm eager to do so because the pain is simply awful, so I make an effort and raise my fork, shoveling eggs and grilled meats into my mouth.
• This meal is a luxury. Back home, we had a watery porridge for breakfast almost every day. On the days we didn't have it, it meant we couldn't afford to. Although I'm wolfing down every bite of food, I feel terrible for eating this while my family might spend the entire morning on empty stomachs. A knot forms in my throat, but I swallow it down with another bite of egg.
• "Goddess," I hear a voice proclaim. Male. "Someone get the omega another plate of food. I don't think it's eaten in weeks!"
• I grow cold when I realize that the words are directed at me.
• The dining hall has three fairly long tables. One is empty—I don't know who usually occupies it. The one in the middle is where I'm seated with the rest of the female contenders, who have clustered around the other end of the table, which means the seats next to me and in front of me are all empty. The third table is occupied by the males who are undergoing their own training to become better members of the pack.
• Every Alpha- and Beta-born male, along with a handful of worthy gammas, must undergo this training. It's compulsory and usually done at the age of twenty-one, though males have the luxury of completing this program later.
• We'd always joked that Corey needed this training to become better. He never found it as humorous as we did. A few years ago, something changed in him, and he was never the same again.
• The point is that when I look up, this guy—this redhead seated among the other males—is staring directly at me, contempt flashing in his eyes.
• I scan the rest of the table, taking note of their faces. To my astonishment, one of the faces at the table is familiar to me, and his eyes seem to widen when our eyes lock.
• He's the young man who started a fight in the village.
• For a handful of seconds, I just stare at his face, wondering what to make of this strange coincidence. Then, I realize that I've probably been staring for too long, and direct my attention back to my plate of food. I still have some meat left, but the redhead's malicious comment managed to make me lose my appetite, even though I'm determined not to let their words get to me.
• Now that I'm not eating, I have no idea what else to do. Looking up and meeting contemptuous gazes really doesn't sound all that appealing to me. I could always head back to my room—we don't have any classes left for the day. Instructor Wylde told us that we'd start getting physical activity classes to get back in shape. I'm not sure what the point is of training to fight for three months straight.
• Tomorrow hasn't even started and it's already exhausting.
• I rise, carrying my plate to the part of the dining hall where omegas serve us food. I haven't met them—they're probably from another village, one that's closer to the academy. However, I noticed the way they looked at me as they served my food.
• With something akin to pride.
• It's great knowing that at least some people in this place are rooting for me and don't think of me as shit beneath their shoes. I hand them my nearly empty plate, thanking them for the food before heading out.
• Noctem Lunae consists of five distinct buildings, and among them are the official dormitories, the administrative building which is where my room can be found along with offices and the records room, the main building, which so happens to be the heart of the academy, where the main and dining halls along with a huge library can be found. Because it was built for the sole purpose of training potential lunas, twelve women every year, there's really not much to the academy.
• Years ago, it doubled as a school for the elites of our pack. Some rooms, even in the administrative building, are locked permanently with old furniture and equipment that the instructors no longer need. I find that disheartening, in a sense. A place that once crawled with life has now been reduced to this fairly lonely place with its domed ceilings and heavy, iron-wrought doors that groan with age whenever they're opened. The winding paths of cracked stones, vines growing between said cracks. There are vines everywhere in Noctem Lunae.
• There's just an overall tragic and hopeless feel to the place.
• Or maybe that's just my impression due to my situation.
• The other two buildings include the training hall, which is where we'll actually be trained as the males will take over The Grounds starting tomorrow, and the empty theater hall. The space hasn't been converted into anything else, and I don't know much about it.
• It's named as one of the five buildings but we don't have any classes there.
• I cross the courtyard to get to my building, and once inside, I hurry to my room. Thankfully, I don't encounter anyone. Then again, this building is almost always empty.
• I enter my room, close the door behind me, and lean against it. After a handful of seconds have passed, I push myself off it, heading toward the bed and throwing myself on it.
• It's been an exhausting first day and I must admit that I'm dreading what comes next. This experience will definitely shape me into someone stronger. Resilient.
• Someone who could face anything.
• It's time to apply the balm, so I carefully spread a thick layer over my contusions, wincing every time my fingers find a tender spot. I haven't done this before—I guess our leaders believe that we don't need to learn how to fight. Only to serve.
• I've come to the realization that I despise my instructor. He's just like everyone else. Biased. Superior. Fairness doesn't exist in Noctem Lunae.
• I won't give up. If I ever had any thoughts of doing so, they're gone now. I'll see this quarter through, and I'll give it my all.
• Looking on the bright side, I might have lost the fight, but I won the last round.
• And for someone only position, that means more than they'll ever realize.