The Tortoise’s Heart was a smaller facsimile of the Tortoise Spire, one of the six Shifting Spires. “Smaller” in this case meant a mere twelve stories in height.
The Heart’s defining features were the encircling walls, designed to resemble those of the tortoise’s shell. The wall was constructed from hundreds of green hexagonal panels, each etched with dozens of runes. I didn’t know if they were actually functional, but I was willing to bet that they were.
A second shell-like fixture hung over the top of the building, casting shade over the entire structure.
The only way into the building was a solitary ramp leading to the middle of the building. From there, I had to take a winding staircase to get to the appropriate floor.
All in all? The building felt less like student housing and more like a fortification.
I kind of loved it, but I wouldn’t ever be getting in.
At any given time, only the hundred and twenty best students in Tortoise Division were permitted to stay here. They retained their old rooms as well. That was necessary, given that they could be kicked out of the Tortoise’s Heart the day their points scores dropped below a competitor’s.
Every class had equivalent buildings; for Phoenix Division, we had the more simply named “Phoenix Hall” for men and the elegant “Phoenix’s Wings” for women. Ours were smaller, however, and only housed fifty students of each sex.
I was paying close attention to my own rankings. Graduating was a high priority, but I wasn’t anywhere close to qualifying for the Phoenix Hall... at least yet. When I’d checked at the Divinatory last, they’d told me I was #238 in my Division with a total of 112 points. We had about fifteen hundred students in Phoenix Division total, which made my rank respectable, but nowhere near the top.
I was nervous for what felt like an infinite number of reasons when I stood in front of the door to one of the rooms, preparing to knock. The main reason was agonizingly simple: in spite of confirming three times, I still worried I was at the wrong room.
The other reasons were a bit more personal, and involved embarrassing hypotheticals of being rejected.
I almost turned away. Instead, I just stared blankly at the door for a solid minute before I got frustrated enough to overwhelm my fear. Then I knocked.
“Just a minute.”
It was the right voice. That made things better and worse.
Marissa opened her door a moment later.
“...Corin? What are ye doing ‘ere?”
I gave a pathetic little wave. “Uh, hi. I was, um, wondering if you had a team for the tests this week?”
Her mouth twitched downward a fraction. “No. Why?”
“I was hoping you’d join my team. We’ve got a pretty good group, but we’re lacking front-line fighters.”
She leaned back on her heels and folded her arms across her chest. “Rupert isn’t on your team, is he?” Her eyes flicked behind me, scanning outside the door.
I followed her gaze, twisting to see the empty walkway behind me before turning back to her figure in the doorway, baffled. “Rupert?”
She blinked. “Kent,” she said, as though this were obvious. “Rupert Kent. From dueling class?”
I shrugged. “I didn’t know his first name. And no, he’s not on the team. Why would that be a problem?”
“I... well...” Marissa slumped. Her head dipped for a moment, then lifted. She blew her hair out of her face, and her eyes had lost most of the wariness from before. “Do you want to come inside?”
I shrugged and gave her a closemouthed half-smile. “Sure?”
“C’mon.”
I followed her into to the room, closing the door behind me.
She sat down on her bed, waving to a seat near a writing desk. I took a seat and shifted in the chair, not sure how to dispel the awkward atmosphere. My eyes took in the room while I avoided her gaze.
It was half-again the size of mine, and nicer by far. The floor was covered in pristine blue-white carpet, the walls looked freshly painted, and the room’s ceiling was a couple feet higher up. Her bed was much bigger than the one I’d been provided, too, and a metal-covered serving tray was sitting on the writing desk beside her books. One of the perks of these “elite” buildings was that they had their own kitchens, and those kitchens were available to deliver food directly to the rooms.
All that enhanced my interest in getting into Phoenix Hall, though I was still more interested in the points to help me graduate than the added luxury.
“Don’t get the wrong idea, I’m just inviting ye in to talk.”
I nodded. “Of course.”
That was all I’d planned on. Now that she’d pointed it out, I could understand why she wanted to set expectations. But with all the things I’d been nervous about, sex wasn’t on the list.
I could see that she might be the type to attract attention. I liked her hair, fine and bright yellow, like corn. But I’d never been interested in people like that. I’d expected that to change as I’d gotten older, but those much-vaunted pubescent urges just never struck me the same way they seemed to hit other people.
I didn’t mind. It meant I could focus on more important priorities, like not dying. That was one of my favorite hobbies.
Once we were seated, I asked the obvious question. “So, what’s all this about Rupert Kent?”
She took a deep breath. “I know it’s not my place to go askin’ someone of your stature anythin’, but please, you can’t go tellin’ anyone ‘bout this.”
I was curious before, but now I was intrigued. I nodded. “Okay. I won’t say anything. Now, what’s this about?”
She sighed, putting a hand over her eyes. “It’s... a bit of a tale.”
I adjusted my chair, leaning back. “I’ve got time.”
“I s’pose the first thing ye need to know is that I’m from outside Ellis.” Marissa turned her head away from me, sounding wistful. “Spent my first years on a farm outside of Kentsford.”