Page 9 of In Between Darkness
“I know,” she simply says without peeling her eyes away from the window.
The cart steadies as we arrive at the top of the valley. The elion makes one swift swoop and glides out into the distance. We all watch amazed as it blends seamlessly into the clouds. One by one, we dismount onto another wooden decking like the one at the base of the valley. I can see the rest of the class in front of us making the climb up the wooden stairs that lead to a large stable-like structure. Miss Worthington is at the foot of the door waiting for the last cable cart to catch up.
Once we’ve all arrived, we stand quietly around her.
“As you may know, the elions can smell fear. Please refrain from giving them eye contact if you are afraid.”
“That’s because fear makes them feel as if danger lies ahead,” Nala says in a low whisper. “They can be just as afraid of you as you are of them.”
“Yeah, but the difference is, me being afraid isn’t going to rip someone to shreds, is it,” I counter, not knowing what to expect from behind the double doors.
“It is currently feeding time, so you will not have to worry about being dinner,” Miss Worthington says matter-of-factly and not in a jokey way. “If you are faint-hearted, you may wish to look away as the elion’s only feed on live prey.”
With that, she sends three knocks onto the door as we wait anxiously.
‘Creeeakkkk’
The doors fly open in unison.
“Excellent!” Miss Worthington declares as the tap of footsteps get closer to us.
A woman with short black hair comes into frame. It hangs down one side of her face, whilst the other side is shaved close to her scalp. The tips are dyed purple. Her look is rather unusual. She has more piercings than I can count on her ears and two on her nose. Her makeup is dark and mysterious. She wears black lace-up boots that rise all the way to the middle of her thigh and a matching tight-fitted black suit that hugs her frame. A stitched silhouette of an elion rests above the space between her left breast and her shoulder. Her arms are bare, and three large raised scars drag down the length of her bicep. Her physique is very muscular. She could probably crush me with her thighs.
“Students, this is Veronica Wren. She is a third-year tamer who has kindly offered to show you around.”
“Hello first years, as you just heard, I am a tamer. I got my badge at the end of second year,” she says, pointing at the stitching on her suit. “Those of you unfamiliar with elions, there are some ground rules we must go over before heading in.”
Her tone is more serious now. “No shouting at any point. Refrain from screaming even if you are terrified. The elions do not take kindly to loud noises and can be easily startled. No running. If an elion sees something running, they will think it is prey, and you are no exception. Elions are slow burners; they take a while to warm to you. Especially newbies, but the bonds forged between elions and Sunkind, when nurtured correctly, are very hard to break. Elions are loyal creatures, and it is not unheard of for one to put its life in danger to protect a tamer. And last but not least, have fun!” She smiles. “This is your chance to see if you have what it takes to become a tamer.” I gazeat Nala, whose eyes are wide with hope. “Follow me closely, no running off,” orders Veronica as her boots lead the way into the stable.
I glance around the large room before me. Wooden panels lace the floor, creaking religiously as the class walks along them. The stories of the ancient profession of taming cover the walls in Enchantra. A shimmering gold ink outlines each etch, just like the ones in the first quarter. Portraits of tamers on the backs of elions in battle line the rest of the walls. Tamers and elions are normally positioned on the front line. They fly above the Palidonian army to assess the enemy’s locations.
There isn’t much else in this room other than four crescent-shaped benches split down the middle, planted one in front of the other.
“This is where you will learn the written aspects of taming.”
The class looks around dumbfounded.
“What, you didn’t expect it to be all hands on, did you? How else are you to know the do’s and dont’s of the art,” Veronica says. “If you go through that door on the left, you will find a separate healing quarter solely for the students who get injured whilst taming.”
The class turns in unison, staring at the door beside us. It shows just how dangerous taming must be to have their own healing quarters.
“This way for the real show.” She walks towards the door on the far wall. This door is larger and a much darker wood. It has metal slabs lying horizontally across it, making the door more metal than wood. Bolts line each slab, ensuring they are secured together. In its middle is a circular metal dial. It looks like the wheel of a ship. Yep, this door is the only thing keeping us safe from the beasts. Veronica stands in the middle of the door. Her muscular frame suddenly does not look so big as the door towers above her. She places her hand onto the dial as if waiting forsomething. After a few seconds, the door clicks and she begins to spin the dial in a clockwise direction.
“The door is Influenced to recognise tamers and will only unlock if you are a tamer or taking the class.”
She pushes at the door that leads to the viewing platform.
I gulp.
Cool shivers work their way down my spine, causing my hair to stand on end. I hear faint ‘shrieks’ gradually getting louder as the door opens slowly. A deep rumble floods my eardrums; an unmistakable growl. I feel sick. Miss Worthington’s words play on repeat in my mind like a bad record: “they can smell fear, refrain from looking at them in the eyes”. My mouth trembles, and the taste of bile floods up to the back of my throat. I gulp and push it down. I take a deep breath and hold on to it. I exhale with purpose as if trying to expel every inch of fear from my body. Nala’s words fight to the surface of my thoughts: “Just stick with me, you’ll be fine.” I throw my arm out towards her hand and grab onto it tight. She chuckles a little and looks at me with reassuring eyes.
“With a grip like that, the elions should be afraid of you.”
I relax a little as a small chuckle escapes my mouth.
The door is open now, and I can see the other side. I feel as though I am on autopilot, my feet moving forward blindly before my brain can register what is in front of me. No fear. I remind myself. No fear. Maybe if I say it enough, I will start to believe it. My arm is still glued to Nala’s like cement, she doesn’t look like she is afraid, which is keeping my heart rate steady, apart from the few droplets of sweat that form on her brow her demeanour is flat, not even a shaky breath vibrates out of her lips. She is braver than me. I know I am vulnerable, but next to Nala, I feel stronger. I grip her like armour.
We head through the doors and step onto the viewing platform; it has taken us back outside to a balcony that overlooks the elion stables. I don’t know why they call it stables because this is nothing of the sort. I gaze over the endless valleys, stilt-like buildings scatter across the land carved out of the ancient oak trees that used to claim this space. They must be at least fifty feet high. Large, flat wooden platforms sit at the top of each oak stilt, covered with a fresh bed of straw. Veronica clears her throat and then points to the oak stilts.
