Hall of Games [ REWRITE ] | The Varya Chronicles #1

Chapter Twelve

Media: Elijah Khavarosk

Music of the chapter: Seconds to Eclipse by Alexei Zakharov

Cadence barely had time to admire the recruits' common room before she was snatched to one side by several classmates. She did see, however, how lovably quaint the room was—soft couches, a bricked hearth where a fire crackled merrily, round tables, fluffy mats and even couches, a luxury only nobles could afford. The inhabitants of the room minded their own business. Some ringed the hearth playing a game of snake and mice. Others joked and talked around a game of cards by the chipped wooden tables. They looked like normal people. Cadence had braced herself for a spartan room where the walls were built from stone and steel, people wearing armor and marching up and down the corridors with grim expressions, but this, this was nothing she was expecting. This actually felt like her home before everything went upside down.

Misha plopped her down on one of the fluffy couches and clapped her hands together.

"Come on, Arik. Let's tell her already!"

"Girl," a red-headed girl drawled beside her. She had a roll of tobacco lit and smoking in between her lips. Cadence didn't know they were allowed to smoke within the Hall, and where did she obtain tobacco? That stuff was deathly expensive. "You sure she won't jeopardize the whole operation?"

"I didn't ask to tag along," Cadence said. "Now if you would just let me go?"

"Well, it is a recruit tradition." Next to the enormous Arik, the Eyrian boy appeared to be smaller than usual, but he stood about Cadence's height. His white robes were stark against his dark skin, and if he titled his head at the right angle, the catching light made his eyes appear a glowing blue. "And she's new. Why not leave her to the other groups?"

"She's my friend!" Misha shook the Eyrian boy by the shoulders. "What's better than to make new friends? Don't be such a stick in the mud, peasant."

"You're the peasant." The Eyrian boy brushed away Misha's hands smoothly. "If you've forgotten, I come from the direct line of the Eyrian Izar."

"And yet you're serving in the Moskavan army. You're just like us, Feathers. Don't think too highly of yourself."

The boy, whom Cadence assumed was named Feathers, made a disgruntled sound. "My name is Yu, I've told you a million times."

"Which literally translates into feathers, idiot," Misha said indignantly. "Now, less talk, more planning."

Arik, Feathers and Mara waited for Misha to speak. Misha cleared her throat.

"So," she dropped her voice low. "It was weird to hear her speak in low tones, for she usually spoke as though the others were standing a hundred feet away from her. "We call it the Great Tradition. We will be sneaking out of the Hall and heading to the Red Tavern where we shall have a few pints and slip right back. Piece of cake."