Page 8 of Above (Darkness Reigns #1)

Nova

“Grunt training is still miserable. Everyone is so much better than me, and I can tell they all hate me. Celeste says it’s because they’re jealous.

I think it’s because they think I’m a stain on the shaytan legacy.

When one of the girls spit on me during our field training, I began to agree with them. ”

T he air burned my lungs as we did our morning run, my sweat threatening to freeze against my skin as we attempted to maneuver around the fresh snow.

I couldn’t stand these, but I actually preferred the cold over the warmth.

At least now I didn’t feel like I would pass out from heat stroke because they didn’t let us take water breaks.

But why would they? We were the weakest shaytan, inferior to the elites.

It was what it meant to be a grunt. Every morning we did mandatory military training before being forced to go work somewhere else.

To be healers or teachers or anything other than a true member of the stars’ force.

We only ever participated in eradications when the elites couldn’t do it on their own—which was practically never.

Really, we were backup. I hated it.

I wasn’t a fan of the agenda that the core families loved to preach, but I knew how important it was to serve the stars. How deeply we relied on their ever-fading favor. If we didn’t entertain them, then they would take everything from us. Maybe even our lives.

Not to mention that being an elite paid better than any other profession. I could take care of my family while also finding some way to get magic into their veins. I could make them happy and healthy. I could do anything.

With those thoughts in my head, I pushed myself even faster, going from the back of the group to the middle, my side aching and my knees protesting.

The trees seemed to blur as I did my best to keep up with the faster grunts in my platoon.

Even with this being the group of the poorest, least magically gifted individuals of our year, I was still one of the slowest.

“Faster!” Our squad’s elite screamed as she made the ascent up the final hill.

As always, I felt my chest tighten as I grew closer to the nearly vertical slope.

The snow on the ground was still fresh, a powder that was thin enough to disperse and allow us to slip on the ice below as we climbed.

I would fall without a doubt. Still, I forced myself to keep moving as I hit the hill at a sprint.

A girl next to me slipped first, a boy tripping over her and starting an avalanche of bodies that took out a quarter of us. No one stopped. No one even flinched. We weren’t a team, we were an army, and natural selection would save us from being a dead one.

Frosty air whipped at us suddenly, the wind slapping into my face and causing my braids to loosen.

My all-black training uniform was thick, the thermal design meant to keep us warm in the winter months, just as our boots were made to gain traction and our gloves were supposed to heat our fingers.

Of course, mine was second-hand—maybe even third, truthfully—and rarely worked as intended.

Especially since it didn’t necessarily fit right.

My heart beat a ferocious drum, the ballad that of past conquerors. I quickly fell behind, bringing up the rear of our remaining platoon, all but a few of my squad members still running.

There was the top. Barely fifty feet. Maybe even forty. I could do it. I would do it.

Screams of determination clawed up my throat like the mythical creatures of stories, digging their sharp talons into my flesh before pushing free of my mouth and echoing across the vast grey skies.

I wasn’t the only one either, especially as we approached the final ten feet. Shouts surrounded me—us—everything.

Snow flew in every direction, coating my leathers and stinging my face. Just as suddenly as the run began, it ended, my boots meeting the crest of the hill. Bending over, I heaved in breaths, not caring that I wasn’t positioning myself best for air flow. I didn’t fall.

I didn’t fall!

“That wasn’t entirely pathetic,” Elite Bargain said through panting breaths, her dark hair that was wrapped in twists all the way down her back swaying as she seemed to rock on her feet.

She wasn’t nice, but then again, no one really was.

Not when it came to soldiers. It was the one thing you weren’t allowed to mess up.

Healers could make a mistake that led to someone’s death and they would still not face the kind of repercussions of a soldier misstepping.

We were the pillars that held up Dajahim.

Well, not us as much as the elites, who were the front line soldiers, the ones who did the heavy lifting and conquered planets. But we all represented the might of the shaytan, and we weren’t to be anything less than perfect.

“Anyone who fell can make their way back to the starting point. You’ll run it again and do better.

” Elite Bargain’s shout was amplified by the magic she willed into it.

Groans could be heard from those who had begun making their way back up.

“Everyone who made it can skip the range today. I expect to see some of you next week at the shadow ritual, so you better take the extra time to prepare yourself.”

For a split-second, Elite Bargain’s chocolate eyes met mine, and I felt my cheeks burn. Was she suggesting that she expected me personally to be there? She wouldn’t be disappointed if so. I was going, regardless of how anyone felt about it.

With a small nod in our general direction, Elite Bargain made her way down the hill.

Cheers erupted after, the group celebrating our shared victory. We rarely got to skip the range. Not that I really cared to. I needed the practice.

The range was the only sanctioned place we could practice our magical combat skills. It was a huge field behind the southeast building of the military base. There, we ran drills, honed our magic, and made sure we were the strongest weapon that anyone could yield.

Of course, the problem was that anyone raised by shaytan parents was automatically at an advantage.

While everyone came into the world eadi, those born from shaytan lived amidst magic for two and a half decades before being blessed with their own.

All that time spent being physically trained, taught about shaytan history forbidden from other eadi, and given more opportunities to thrive. So, skipping the range only hurt me.

Still, it was my birthday, and of all days, this was the one I would allow myself to slack on. I deserved a bit of joy, even if it was surrounded by clouds of doom and ticks of the clock.

The others in my platoon had already begun their descent, the group of them either moaning about having to run again or celebrating their rare time off.

While I had been grouped with these shaytan for twenty-five years, I hadn’t befriended any of them.

They all carried biased opinions on of eadi.

To them, there was a sense of wrongness when it came to the idea of someone with no magic in their family being awarded the gift from the stars. To them, I was a mistake.

I didn’t have the energy today to prove them wrong.

“Mama! I got off duty early!” I shouted as I pushed through the dark wooden door, my finger catching on one of the vines that grew up it. Immediately I was hit with the smell of assorted herbs, plants, and medicines. A scent I had known since childhood.

Decorating the sage colored walls were Celeste’s paintings, a stunning background to the vials, pots, and boxes that sat upon pale wooden shelves. The cluttered space was home in many ways—especially to Mama.

Her and Dad moved from the Farigh District because she dreamed of helping eadi.

Originally, she had hoped to open up an apothecary there.

The only issue was that the farther from the Star District one went, the more impoverished they became.

They couldn’t afford anything my mother would sell, which meant she couldn’t continue to help them.

Not only that, but it became harder to complete the magic ritual.

Traveling from most of the districts to the Ether Cathedral was nearly impossible.

It was a major reason why a lot of eadi didn’t get a chance to beg the stars for magic on their twenty-fifth birthday.

In fact, neither of our parents had done so on theirs.

But they wanted to give us a chance, even if they mostly loathed the shaytan.

So they picked up everything and made their way here, to the Sham District.

“Today is not a good day to be out and about, we need to close early,” Mama rushed out, her hands moving to arrange the many items we sold.

“Why? What’s going on?” I asked, startled by her panic.

“More protests,” Celeste answered, darting around me.

“I haven’t seen or heard anything.”

“You’re in grunt uniform,” she scoffed. “Of course you haven’t. But there have been whispers all throughout the shops. We have less than twenty minutes before the bell tolls and protesters flood the streets.”

“Celeste is right, we need to get home. Your father will need extra time after taking haya last night.”

“You let him come in?” I gasped, my hand flying to my mouth.

A loud, repetitive thud sounded from the back room. My head flew toward Dad, watching as he entered with raspy coughs. “No one lets me do anything.”

“Dad, you’ve had an awful cold all week and you just took a dose, you can’t be here right now.”

“Let’s not argue when haya is the problem we always find.”

That silenced me. I knew they didn’t want to do it anymore. That much was obvious last night. But the way he said it, so pointedly as he stared into my eyes, felt…accusatory. Yes, it was me who had them regularly dosing. I needed them though.

It was unfair, obviously, but I was going to find a long-term solution. They knew that. I just needed time.

Apparently they were willing to offer less and less of it.