Chapter 16

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It's hard to believe that it's time to apply for apprenticeship already. I only have till midnight tonight to get it submitted at the drop-off box. A whole week had been allowed to get it ready, but that's not nearly enough. There are several drafts under my belt, but I can't decide which direction to take.

Like a hermit crab, I lock myself in my dorm room and type away at my typewriter. Clickity! Click. Click....Din! All day long. It's sunset already and all I had to eat all day is a couple of egg-in- baskets and sliced ham. My floor is covered with balls of crumpled up paper and the level of discarded ideas are keep rising. Fucking typos!

Suddenly, a knock at my door breaks my concentration. Kai and Nina are busy too with the same task and I know this isn't them. They know better.

"Fuck off!" I'm pissed.

Whoever it is, they do.

This has to be perfect, even though this is the first draft of the letter and will only be allowed to be sent away to knights accepting apprentices if Sir Dima and Madam Zinaida approve them. They are kind enough to host this year's Proof-Read and I can't think of more qualified professors to do this. It's a high hope, but I hope to impress them. This is why this first draft has to be the perfect draft. At least perfect enough.

I have no idea what time it is exactly, but from the view in my window it has to be pitch black o'clock for sure. An hour left mark alarm hasn't gone off, so there is still time. Luckily, I don't need it. It's done. Before sealing it in an envelope with red wax, I kiss it for luck. At last, it's ready to go out of this door, but I'm not. First things first - pants. I need pants. There has to be a pair somewhere under this crumbly sea of paper.

At last, I'm decent to see myself out and head for the offices' wing. As I walk into the ghosted lobby of the faculty's building all I can hear are the heels of my barely tied boots against the granite floor. In my head, I can hear the freshly polished floor under my dirty shoe souls judge me for my appearance. Up the stairs and onto the second floor, I escape the stone cold presence and hope that this is the only judgement I'll have to face in the dark of the night.

I open the door only to face more doors. Many, many, more doors. A whole network of doors. Each one is marked with a number and a professor's name. The long corridor branches out from both sides into even more halls. Paying close attention, I try to find door #439. I follow the directory posted for each hall, and in no time find Sir Dima's office.

My mind must have been really set on this one single goal, for I do not notice any sound until my envelope hits the bottom of his drop-off box. A vail of clarity lifts and that is when I realize that I'm not alone. They don't seem to have heard me coming and continue with their conversation, but their exchange of words is on a brink of evolving into an argument. The tones are harsh and bitter, but non-threatening. Very much like an angry dog barking, but small enough for a lady's luxury purse.

"We got to make sure that all knights agree to this plan," someone hisses.

"Some are, some are not."

"It's vital that we make the Council see how serious this has become."

"This is not a necessary agenda. You're over-reacting."

"Not only is it necessary, it's vital to keep them all safe."

"Knights safe? Risking life and limb and going where we are needed is what they all sighed up for."

"They are no knights. They are just cadets. Unexperienced, idealistic, and unrealistic cadets."

"When summer comes, they all will have a whole year's worth of our intense program's training and education and when they set their foot on the field, they'll have the supervision and guidance of their mentors."

"Maybe so, but it will take only one slip up, one mistake, one miscalculation to make things worse than they already are."

"That is why civilians need to see that we are here for them, we are here to help and aid the people. During tough times like this, the population could certainly use more medical assistants, body guards, mediators, and lawyers. Our cadets will be ready to take on the challenge."

The argument is coming to an end and soon enough the two debaters will be going their own ways. I need to leave, but I don't think I'll be lucky enough to sneak out without getting noticed. For the sake of not looking suspicious, I must make my presence known and not give away my guilt.

"Excuse me. Good evening, Sir. Madam. Can you tell me how to get out of here? I think I'm a bit lost," I turn the corner and reveal myself.

"What are you doing here, cadet?" Sir Dima wasn't pleased with me, even with my good manners.

"I just dropped the letter at your drop-off box, Sir and I'm afraid that I was in such rush to get it in that I've forgotten how to get out of this maze."

"What letter?" he seems to be even more confused by my existence in this building.

"The application letter, Sir? For an apprenticeship, Sir?" I don't know how to make the purpose of my presence here clearer.

"Oh, right," he calms down.

Madam Zinaida is more courteous, "Where do you hope to get an apprenticeship, cadet? I'm sure you must have a preference."

"Oh, I'll be happy just to get an invitation," I smile.

"I'm sure he would like to travel and see the world. Meet new people, experience different cultures, and see different places. That's one of the perks of this career," Sir Dima suggests, but I'm not sure if he's speaking to me or to Madam.

"Going where you are needed most is part of the hero's charm too, even if it's at the home-front. Staying close to home and family isn't so bad. The parents will be pleased that he'll have the chance to serve his own people," Madam Zinaida gives a different alternative, but I'm not sure it's me she's trying to convince.

I'm not sure if I'm part of this conversation anymore, or ever was.

"I'll do whatever is necessary," I'm at a loss.

"I'm sure you'll make the right pick," Sir Dima tries to smile.

"The way out is down this way, then take a left turn on the forth corridor. Go all the way down and then at the end the exit door will be on the right," Madam Zinaida keeps trying to keep warmness inner tone.

"Thank you. Good night to you both," out of respect, I bow my head and take my leave.

She's wrong. The last turn is to the left again, but I pretend to trust her direction and purposely make the mistake. By making myself look fooling, I hope to eliminate myself as a threat to their secret.

The cold air hits me hard as I bust out of the last set of doors. Outside this building heavy with secret agendas, I can breathe at last.

As I head down the lamp-post lit sidewalk, I can't help but worry. What is it that the knights think we need protection from? Why do they think cadets need sanctuary abroad? We don't need protection or sanctuary. If anything, we are the ones who should be doing the safe-guarding. With each step towards the dormitories, I realize more and more how little control I have over anything. Even the idolized knights have limits and I don't know how ready I am to figure out mine.

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