Chapter 6 Chapter 6: The Train to the Capital

I didn’t even know the king had a dark list.

So many questions pop into my head as we embark on the train.

What is a dark list? Why does he have one? Who is on it? And what must someone do to be in it?

Hans didn’t feed us any more information, and my brain is starting to malfunction with so much information.

There are too many things happening around me. New people hop on the train as we stop by the other districts and cities, and my ears perk at the slightest conversation I overhear, wanting to absorb as much as possible.

I’m discovering a brand new world today; it’s overwhelming.

A slight headache is bothering me, but I blame it on not having anything to eat this morning.

My heart shrinks as I remember the look of disappointment and sadness on my parents’ faces when I left the house. 

But I have to remind myself to shake it off. I can’t let that distract me or pull me away from following my dreams.

“Hettie, is everything okay?” Hans’ voice jerks me back. He nudges me on the shoulder, and I look up, finding his eyes scanning my face, his brows creased together.

“Yeah, sorry. I was just…” I shrug, not really sure how to explain to him the avalanche of thoughts I’m having right now.

“Things were that bad at home, huh?” He offers me a soft smile, similar to Francesca’s when she heard my parents weren’t at the station to send me off. 

I’m really grateful to have at least two people who care about me on this journey. I’d feel lonelier than ever if I didn't have them coming along.

“They didn’t even talk to me.” I clear my throat, realizing my voice came out raspier than I intended. “Not a single word.”

“I’m sorry. But to be honest, that’s not something out of the ordinary for them. They were always like this, so just give them time to accept that you’re the owner of your decisions now.” Hans’ smile widens, and I find myself smiling back at him.

I want to tell him that this time is different.

I feel like sharing the conversation I overheard from my parents. Maybe he can offer some insight into what it could possibly mean.

But before I can make up my mind, Francesca squeaks beside us, pointing out the window with her eyes threatening to pop out of their sockets.

“Good Lord! Is that the Academy? It’s…”

“Huge,” I mumble, looking at what she is pointing at.

That’s the only word I can come up with.

Out of every extraordinary thing that I saw out of the window on our trip to the capital, nothing compares to this.

“That’s almost as big as the king’s castle,” Hans adds. He doesn’t look as impressed as both of us, but I can see the sparkle in his eyes. He’s excited.

I’ve only seen the king’s castle on TV and newspapers, so it’s hard to make sense of its actual size. But if it’s anything close to what I’m seeing now, that’s truly impressive.

“It’ll take us at least a whole week to get to know every inch of it,” Francesca murmurs, still in awe.

She is not wrong.

The building is enormous; several painted-glass windows stare back at us, countless floors, and stoned walls, weather-worn and imponent against the clear sky. The sun is starting to descend behind the mountains, which makes the place even more ethereal and mystical.

“Look at those towers!” she beams, her face now glued to the train window. “How many floors do you think it has? Do you think they have elevators or will we have to climb stairs all the way up there?”

She looks at me with a frown, and I let out a breathy laugh.

“That’s what you’re concerned about?” Hans rolls his eyes, and the three of us remain in silence, too mesmerized by the sight in front of us to come up with anything else to say.

It’s insane to think that this will be my home for the rest of the year. Maybe the next one too, if everything goes well.

The closer we get to the academy, the bigger it gets, towering over us in an intimidating way. 

Anxiety starts to creep up on me as I wonder what I’ll find once we get inside.

A supervisor yells at us to prepare to get off the train, reminding us not to forget any luggage or personal belongings. I pull my sweater over my head, expecting the chilly weather outside, and grab my bag, holding it close to my chest as we wait for the green light to leave the cabin.

A group of mystics passes by us on the way out, cheerfully talking about what they are most excited about.

“Elemental Mastery 101 is the first one on Monday. Dad said this is the best class for someone who doesn’t know how to control their nature-based powers,” one of the girls says, loud enough for anyone to hear.

She definitely comes from a wealthy family, if the tweed set of blazer and skirt she’s wearing and the pearl necklace on her neck are any indication of her status. Her blonde hair falls down her shoulders in thick waves, and her green eyes scan her surroundings with a superiority that doesn’t sit well with me.

Or maybe I’m just being judgmental.

“Not that I need to learn how to control my powers, because Dad taught me that ever since I got my first powers. I’m just curious to know if they’ll teach us anything new,” she adds, and her other friends laugh with her, although I have no idea what is so funny about it.

“Ugh, help me, God,” Francesca whispers beside me, and Hans nudges her a little too hard, making her fumble over her feet and stare at him with a deathly look on her face. “What the hell was that for?”

“You want to make a scene and get expelled on your first day?” he whispers back, leaning forward so only the two of us can listen. “You’ll do well to keep your thoughts about the wealthy to yourself. They are the ones paying for this school to function.”

Of course they are.

Francesca grumbles, but shuts her mouth, and we finally get off the train. We follow the large group through a stoned path for a few minutes, until we’re finally inside the academy’s grounds.

This has to be one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever seen in my life. I haven’t been anywhere other than Brimmere, but I doubt there are as many stunning places in the country as this one.

We cross the green gardens, surrounded by tall trees and the mountains as a background, and are led inside the main building. 

An older man has joined us, but he’s too far ahead for me to listen to what he is saying to the front row students. However, I can tell that he is either a teacher or a coordinator, judging by his military uniform.

As soon as we get to the main hall, I have to clench my teeth so my jaw doesn’t drop to the floor.

I don’t know what astonishes me the most—the grandiness of this place, its high ceiling and decorated walls, or the number of students waiting inside, watching us as if we’re new meat walking freely into their zone.

I immediately tell myself not to look into their eyes. Maybe it’s my insecurity speaking, or maybe I’m too self-conscious of who I am. I immediately feel like I don’t belong.

Goosebumps run all over my body as a set of eyes—pitch-black as the night sky on the colder day of the year—accidentaly crosses my sight, and I simply forget about anything else.