As she walked up the seemingly endless steps to the Academy, she felt a sense of dread so consuming it felt as if it would swallow her whole. Clove had always been shy, retiring; the kind of person who was most at ease hiding in the background, passing through life almost unnoticed. She liked it that way. Confrontation was something she just didn't have the capacity for; she felt she wasn't strong enough; physically or emotionally. Sadly now, she knew she had no choice. This was what everyone had to do, no one had a choice in the matter. You fight, you become the best, or you die. She felt like dying now, as she took the last step to the door. She paused. I could run away she thought, I could just turn around and run. They might not find me, I could be safe. She knew though, that such fantasies were a waste of her time. She dismissed her thoughts of fleeing as cowardice, took a deep breathe, and pushed open the huge brass door.

It was heavy and made a terrible creaking as it opened, into a large entrance way. Directly in front of her, down a long corridor was a great staircase, the kind you might imagine women once floating down in grand ball dresses. The rest of the hallway was dark. Dark oak covering from floor to ceiling, and the only light coming from the doorway she way standing in. Everything was so ancient, it almost felt eery; the dust dancing in the few rays of light touching the ground. She closed the door behind her. A wave of cold hit her, and deathly silence caused her ears to softly ring. There was a desk in the far corner. She cautiously made her way over, the echoing of her shoes on the polished floors shaking the building. There was no one at the desk, but a small bell sat on the countertop. She composed herself, and rang it. She waited. Nothing. Maybe I've got the wrong day. She thought hopefully. She rung again just to make sure. A small older lady with glasses on a chain around her neck ran out of a back room. "Ooh I am sorry lovey!", she, "I was just having my tea break", "it's been a busy morning!". Clove shook her head, "Don't worry", "I'm sorry I'm a little late". "Well that's quite alright, I'm sure they'll let this one slide since it's your first day!", "It is your first day... Isn't it?", she asked. Clove nodded. "Ahh, I thought so" The older lady nodded slowly, and with a pitying smile. "Well, if you sign in here, and then go down the corridor, third door on the left to pick up your training pack and gear", "They'll be instructions in there for which classes you will attending and where you need to go from there". Clove nodded again, "Thank You". She signed the sheet in the desk with a shaking hand and handed the pen back over. The old women caught her hand, squeezing it firmly, and solemnly whispered; "Good Luck".