Page 16 of The Song of Sunrise (The Prentice Teller #1)

My Name is Akemi

T he cafeteria is lavish with polished, pristine checkered floors and candelabra chandeliers that hang high above, with glimmering gems in blue, silver, and gold.

Rows of long, rectangular wooden tables fill the floors in clean lines where some cadets already mingle.

Along the wall, slender stained windows arch to a point, cradling a view of the gardens beyond.

Ramona guides me toward the delicious smells of roasting meat, rosemary, and sage. A counter frames the kitchens beyond that are bustling with food preparation. My heart fills with homesickness at the sight. Where Rosie’s kitchen was wooden and warm, this is expansive, clean, and much more grand.

I fill my plate with blackened chicken, seasoned potatoes, and carrots and follow Ramona to a table near the windows.

We take our seats, and Ramona immediately starts digging into her soup with an impressive veracity.

I raise an eyebrow at her.

“What?” she asks, mouth full and dripping, then shrugs. “Oh this? Never quite broke the habit of eating quickly. Growing up with five older brothers does that to you. The second Mom put the food on the table, it was all out war. The slowest ones got the least amount of food.”

“That sounds equal parts entertaining and terrifying. I'm sure there were many hungry nights.”

“For them! My lovely Sun'cher thoroughbred brothers never much liked that their little sister was the fastest of them all.” Ramona gives a feral grin, and I laugh.

Ramona goes on to share a few stories about her brothers, all of whom are successful three-stone Sun’chers currently stationed at WatchTowers throughout the Territories, except her oldest brother, Civil, who recently took leave to care for his new baby girl.

Ramona pretends to be nonchalant about being born into a Legacy Watcher family, but I sense the pressure she is under.

Her need to succeed and prove to her family that she is equally as powerful, if not more.

“Looks like our weakest link was uncovered day one,” a raspy alto voice calls from behind me. The skin on the back of my neck crawls, knowing this is about me by the way Ramona’s nostrils flare.

“Already starting this shit are we, Sabra?” Ramona comes immediately to my defense.

It’s the same cadet who laughed at me in class, Sabra. This close, her soulless eyes swirl with the same red as her hair, so dark it’s almost black. One of her eyebrows is missing a section like a blade barely missed her eye.

Her lips are curled back in disgust. “I’m not starting anything.

Not yet. Our class was full, then suddenly she gets added in, and she can barely channel enough to be considered a Sun’cher.

My family was right, the Watch is going to shit.

It takes people years of training, preliminary testing, and she just what…

walks in?” Sabra tosses her hair behind her shoulder and continues, “I heard Castor brought her in. She must have slept her way in from the Elder—”

“Akemi,” I interrupt firmly, sick of her talking about me like I’m not here. My blood begins to boil with rage, unfreezing the ice that kept me silent and frozen. I push my tray and stand, turning to face Sabra.

She rolls her eyes. “What?”

“My name is Akemi. If you are going to talk shit about me while I’m sitting right here, you might as well use my name.”

Ramona snorts behind me.

I continue, “And no, I didn’t fucking sleep my way into the Academy.

Maybe I have a reason to be here. Maybe I’m stronger than you think.

Maybe my entire town was destroyed by Underlings and I have no choice but to come here and learn how to fight so that never happens to me or my people again!

” I’m yelling by the end. My chest heaves, but I hold Sabra’s dark gaze.

Cadets at the tables closest to us are silent, watching.

“Let's go.” Ramona grabs my elbow and guides me back to our room to change into our fighting leathers for Battlefield, our next class.

I know why Sabra triggered me, yet it’s hard to process all the same.

I’m so sick of people underestimating me, but I can’t even be mad at her for it because I underestimate myself.

By the time we pass the corridors near the main hall, my whirlpool of anger finally stills.

Swirling down a drain until there is no more emotion left.

“Looking fierce,” Leaf says, bumping into us.

His eyes trail up and down at our new fighting leathers.

Mine is a dark brown set with woven leather pants that fit tightly into my boots, a fitted breast plate, and matching arm guards.

Ramona wears the black version with an added chainmail skirt to protect her midsection and holster an obscene amount of daggers.

“As always.” Ramona flips her hand at Leaf and charges past, not slowing her relentlessly fast pace she manages to keep despite her platform boots.

Leaf slows his pace to match mine and throws an arm over my shoulders. “Missed you, travel buddy.”

“You too, Leaf,” I admit truthfully. “What class are you heading to?”

“Battlefield.”

“What?” Ramona stops dead in her tracks, and Leaf grabs me by the waist to stop us from running straight into her. “That’s where we are going. It’s on the first-year schedule.”

Why would they be sending other years to the same class?

Ramona usually oozes confidence, so the nervous look on her face isn’t making me feel any better. Battlefield is a combat class where we learn fighting and channeling techniques. It’s intimidating enough going as a first year class, let alone the possibility of all three years attending.

“Maybe they want all of us combined this year for some reason.” Leaf doesn’t seem concerned. I guess I wouldn’t be either if I was as skilled of a Sun’cher as him. I witnessed his relentless fighting style first hand.

“I almost forgot,” I say, trying to contain my excitement. “I was tested in Intro with the Affinity Stones. They placed me as a Sun’cher!”

Leaf picks me up and wiggles me around in a tight hug. “I knew it! Welcome to the bright side ‘Kem!”

We walk together on the main level down a long corridor until we reach a set of large, arched doors leading to the training compound outside at the side of the castle.

Sprawling stone steps give way to a large, grassy field where multiple clusters of cadets in an assortment of fighting leathers already wait.

The crisp wind whips strands loose from the high ponytail Ramona insisted I wear, saying that it accentuated my cheek bones. I am starting to admire her personality split that is equal parts fighter and fashion connoisseur.

Leaf guides us through the crowd toward a small group of people huddled together laughing.

I recognize Castor’s bulky frame immediately.

As if hearing my thoughts, he turns toward us, his face stern and harsh, until his eyes land on mine and a small smile curves up one side of his lips.

As we join the group, Castor moves to my side, his large arm accidentally brushing mine, though neither of us move away from the contact.

A short, stocky male professor with light brown hair cut short to his head makes his way to a small wooden platform and claps his hands twice. They are not ordinary claps, but rather, they resonate across the entire field.

The Source!

This is never going to get old.

On the side of his arm, the rising sun patch of the Sun’cher faction glimmers.

“Cadets! Listen up. For those new here, I’m Commander Hogsmith. You will address me as such.” The few students who dare to keep whispering earn a few hard glares from other, more experienced cadets.

“You are probably wondering why I have called all three years to the Pits.” Commander Hogsmith gestures toward the large craters behind him that are carved into the rocky soil.

Ramona warned me about the Pits earlier in our rooms. It’s said that cadets are only allowed to climb out after a person yields or a serious injury occurs.

I catch myself subconsciously leaning into Castor’s arm and stop myself, only to lose my footing. Castor quickly places a steadying hand on my back, keeping it there while the Commander speaks.

A third-stone female cadet with caramel skin stares at us, inspecting the point where Castor’s hand meets my back.

She has pillowy pink lips and would be pretty if not for the slight sneer pulling at her mouth.

She must be a friend and classmate of Castor’s.

A Moon’cher patch glitters silver on her shoulder.

Commander Hogsmith pulls our attention back with his bellowing voice that seems to be magically amplified to carry across the wind.

“Instead, we will travel down to the Lower Field One where we will share a very special announcement. Follow your Thirds down!”

Castor, the Moon’cher who glared at me, and a few other third-stones raise their hands for others to follow.

“Follow me!” Castor slips into his leadership role with ease, gesturing to our small group and the others around us to follow him. He leads us away from the Pits toward a series of heavy metal hatches that are flipped open on the ground.

One by one, cadets are climbing down the hatches and disappearing beneath the ground. My stomach knots thinking about the hatch closing behind me.

“Where are we going exactly?” I ask Ramona quietly.

“The Lower Fields! These are usually reserved for second and third-stone cadets only,” Castor explains. “They usually wait until cadets master channeling up here before they start putting layers of dirt and rock between the moon and sun.”

“So the Lower Fields are underground?”

“Yeah, crazy right? The further you go underground, the harder it is to channel the Sun and Moon. Though no one really talks about it because they are technically in the Treaty with us, me and my brothers think it’s because they are trying to simulate what it would be like to fend off Underlings.”

My heart pounds out of my chest at the mention of the monsters that attacked my home.

“Oh, I’m sorry Akemi, I forgot. We don't have to go down if you don’t want to. I can wait with you up here.” Ramona blurts in one quick breath.

“No, really, it’s okay. I want to go down.” I have to go down .

Each descending step down the hatch cements my resolve to train below ground.