“The additional tutoring you'll each need will be at your instructor's discretion. Should you fail to perform during the finals, we'll have a different conversation.” Instructor Garcien's eyes softened.
“Being a Voyager is challenging. Unlike every other service, we must make choices every day, constantly. That is how we survive traveling across the miasma. The choices you make will determine whether you and your crew members live or die, how much Starshell you're able to acquire, the condition your Arc returns in. The choices you make right now will determine whether you make it to graduation. It will be hard,” she stressed. “A third of trainees don't graduate each year.”
That was news. It was a shockingly high number.
“The lessons and training exercises won't get easier. If you don't choose, right now, to put in the extra effort and focus where you need to, then you might as well leave.”
Phayden glanced toward the gate.
“It must be intentional effort from each of you. Don’t try indiscriminately harder to be better at everything. Yeshar, you had one of the highest individual scores on your intelligence and endurance.”
That will make him easier to live with.
“Lisia, your persistence is likely the only reason you were able to make it back at all, you had a very high score on tenacity and perseverance.”
It was a hollow consolation prize, but I clung onto her words, nonetheless.
“Leaning into your strengths is its own kind of savvy, but it won't be enough to carry you. You need to be well-rounded.” She pointed beyond the gate. “If you lack harmony with your team, physical ability, or intelligence, you'll die out there.” She tucked a loose lock of salt-and-pepper hair behind her ear. “We do our best to try to support everyone, point them in the rightdirection, and help them rise to their full potential. But not everyone does. I have faith that each of you can become fine Voyagers.” She looked between each of us, brown eyes sharp and warm.
“Yeah, thanks for that,” Henrik muttered.
“That especially includes you, Henrik,” she favored him with a patient smile. “I have high hopes for each of you, no matter how many times you disrupt my lessons.”
“Yeah, whatever.” He walked toward the barracks.
“And doing that will ensure we don’t wash out?” Yeshar asked.
“Yes, for now,” Instructor Garcien said. He and Phayden headed toward the barracks as well. I hung back.
“Do you think it's odd that Henrik, Yeshar and I all ended up needing additional support?” I asked.
“No,” I didn't hear any pity in her voice. “And I know it is harder because of your history. But Voyager training is hard on everyone. Sarina, for example, might have been one of the top scorers if not for her strength scores. Her size is something she works to overcome, not something she uses as an excuse.”
“It’s not an excuse, it’s just...” I sighed, trying to find the right words. “It’s frustrating to try so hard, and still come up short.”
“It can be counterproductive, trying too hard,” Instructor Garcien advised. “The pressure you three are under is different than everyone else here, and this is something that happens almost every year. It can become a self-fulfilling prophecy, where trying too hard to keep from failing ends up ensuring you fail.”
Her words from the bamboo grove about teaching how to fail with dignity crossed my mind.
She clasped her hands in front of her. “Not every Apostate who fails Voyager training is sent back to the Reformatory.”
She had my full undivided attention now. “What do you mean?”
“There are exceptions. We instructors can petition the Prelates if we receive a trainee who shines especially bright, but won't graduate. It doesn't happen every year, but there is precedent. Apostate trainees can go on to perform in other services.”
The Prelates were the highest authority in the Ascendancy. They determined the laws of the island and handed out judgments to anyone who didn't adhere to the edicts they set forth. Their decisions were absolute. They'd been the ones to sentence my family for 'overcrowding'.
My brain lit up like a courtyard full of trainees talking all at once. One question was more significant than all the others whirling through. “What...qualifies a trainee for such consideration?”
“No need to dance around what you're really trying to ask. If you want out of Voyager training, I will send a petition for you.”
My heart was performing its own drum solo.
“Don't rush such a significant choice, though,” she continued. “Take some time to consider it. And remember that I truly believe that you will become an incredible Voyager, one day. Ultimately, it is your decision.”
I was still dumbfounded at the revelation that my future could be more than being a Voyager or returning to the Reformatory.
“You should get some rest though. I know you came back injured from the midterm,” she urged.
