The Transfer ✔️

Chapter Twenty-Nine - Gloom

There is a darkness in the air. It isn't visible, but I can feel it. It twists around me, bunching up my heartstrings in a maze where I don't know the way out. I am lost and confused. Everything seems to be suspicious, intriguing, challenging. The planet seems to be trying to emphasize something to me, but I can't put a finger on it. There is no obvious sign of danger or happiness. Everything is just existing.

Nobody seems to be on the same wave length as me. As I bring it up to numerous people, I receive countless headshakes and questioning looks as they walk away. They think I'm insane, probably, but if I've learnt anything in the past eight years it's that I should always trust my gut. It's a guiding light in a world of different opinions. If I can't trust my own instincts, I'm confused to how I could ever trust someone else. Trust in yourself needs to come before someone else.

I stick to my routine as it's the only think that soothes my restless soul. Everyday, I wake up early. I set up the Defense base, have breakfast and then train with everyone. Using the checklists, anyone missing is chased down and taken to the Defense base. Usually I train with everyone up until lunch and then after that I take off by myself and work on the skills I need to improve on. Right now, I'm trying to improve on everything. If I want this leadership position to continue, I need to refine and improve every skill I previously thought was up to the maximum level. That level no longer exists, my whole skill set needs to improve.

As I let a knife sail through the air, I squint my eyes at its position. Just on the cusp of the center, the blade taunts me with its imperfect landing spot. Grabbing another one, I throw it harshly into the middle without thinking about it. Sometimes my best work comes out of emotions instead of technicalities.

"Maybe you should slow down," Matt says, joining the group of soldiers watching me.

I turn to face him with my face set in an impassive expression. "I can slow down when people know how to aim."

He nods, purses his lips and walks away. I smirk as I watch him leave, glad that my teaching methods are being left alone. A no-nonsense scheme is how I learnt in the early years of Oakwood. Discipline is an important part of Defense and nobody is going to learn that if they're allowed to do whatever they want. Yet again, my schedules seem to be the best decision I've made for the base as leader so far.

"Why did you throw the last one quicker?" Somebody speaks out from the group. I'm glad people are asking questions – it proves they want to learn and trust me enough to offer valuable advice.

"Sometimes you've got to throw with your heart. Stop thinking and let your body take over," I say, trying to look each of them in the eye. "But this instinct will only come after you've learned how to properly and safely throw with good aim."

"So, we can't try it now?" Another person frowns, probably wishing I would stop making them do extensive lessons on positions and strength.

"No," I say sternly. "You're not ready. You will be soon, if you keep turning up."

At least a third of the group mumble unhappily, their eyes trained on the floor in discontent. I don't let their bad moods bother me. Its their problem, not mine. Defense needs some harsh truths if it's ever going to survive.

I make the group work for another forty-five minutes before I call time for lunch. Most of the base is already gone, their new training regimes causing a significant increase in hunger. Evelyn is loving the new appreciation for her cooking, but hating the heavier workload. I've apologized, but it wasn't entirely sympathetic – if people are hungry, they're obviously working hard enough. Delight rushes through me when I think about it.

Making my way to the canteen myself, I grab my food and sit down by Evelyn and Ruby. Ruby grins at me when I sit down and shuffles closer. Turning to her, she just smiles innocently.