Chapter 10 – First Day, First Class
The morning felt different.
For some reason, the walls of the room didn't feel as heavy today. The fear hadn't disappeared, but along its edge a thin line of stubbornness had been drawn.
Saloni looked at herself in the mirror. The same face, the same hair, the same eyes… yet she felt that yesterday's Saloni and today's Saloni were a little different.
Yesterday she was the girl who was about to run away from here.
Today she was the girl who had decided to stay.
"Student," she whispered softly, as if the word was still new in her mouth.
She packed her small bag again. This time not to leave, just out of habit—clothes, that old photo. Then she took a deep breath and stepped out of the room.
Walking toward the reception, every step felt both heavy and light.
Heavy because she still didn't know what would happen next,
and light because at least the question of "where am I" was clear now—
*I'm not someone who is leaving, I'm in the dangerous place where I chose to stay.*
Outside the office a few students were standing. Someone's form was being filled, someone was making a complaint, someone else was asking for information.
Saloni waited for her turn. In front of her were two boys, probably from the fifth floor, their laughter and confidence both much louder than needed.
"Next," a sharp voice called from inside.
She went in. Behind the table sat a middle‑aged woman, hair neatly tied, glasses on her eyes, face tired but orderly. She must see hundreds of students like this every day.
"Name?"
"Saloni," she said.
"Identity?"
"I used to be a bodyguard… for Priya. Now I want to register as a student."
The woman looked at her over the top of her glasses.
"Thought it through? Going from bodyguard to student… isn't easy. There you only had to protect one person, here you'll have to prove yourself."
Saloni gave a short answer,
"Yes, I've thought about it."
The woman slid a form toward her.
"Fill it in. Name, age, background… what your element is, all of that."
Saloni's pen paused a little at the element section.
She simply wrote: **None**.
She handed the form back and stood quietly. The woman quickly tapped a few keys, checked the data on the screen, then a card printed out.
She gave it to Saloni—a small card with her name, her face, and below it written: **First Year – Student**.
"From today, you're officially a first-year student of this academy," the woman said in a routine tone.
But that line went deep inside Saloni.
*No idea what will happen now,* she thought to herself.
"One more thing," the woman said, "new students can choose their core and secondary class. The system is open right now; later it'll be hard to change, understand?"
Saloni nodded.
"What classes are there?"
The woman turned the screen toward her. On the list it said:
- Combat / Fighting
- Element Control
- Support & Healing
- History of Nations & Heroes
- Strategy & Tactics
"You obviously can't take Element Control," the woman said without emotion. "So choose carefully."
Saloni looked at the list. Her eyes stopped first on Combat.
*I don't have an element, but I do have my body.*
Her gaze then moved to the History class—Nations & Heroes.
*Listening about the ones who changed the world… maybe that wouldn't be so bad.*
"Combat as my core class," Saloni said, "and secondary… History of Nations & Heroes."
The woman selected both options.
"Alright, the timetable will be put up on the board by evening. Your first classes are today itself. Don't be late."
Saloni took the card and stepped out.
As she came into the corridor, a sudden realization hit her—
she was no longer a bodyguard, she was a student. She had no idea what would change now.
After that she went to her student dorm room, did a little practice there, and then went to sleep.
The first period in the morning was Combat class.
She had seen the training ground before, following behind Priya as a bodyguard, but today it felt different.
Today she hadn't come to stand at the edge and watch, she had come to stand in the middle.
A wide hall, a high open roof showing the sky, circles marked on the ground, wooden dummies on the walls, sandbags, and in some places practice dummy sticks for weapons hanging in rows.
Here and there groups of new students were standing—most excited, some scared, some very confident.
"Line up," a heavy voice echoed through the hall.
All eyes turned toward the sound.
A man walked to the center with slow, steady steps.
Tall height, broad shoulders, a black training uniform fitted up to the neck, and a straight, piercing gaze.
"My name is Instructor Raghav," he said. "Many of you won't like me. You don't need to. Just remember this—whatever you learn here can save your life. Or take someone else's. The difference will be in your hands."
A slight shiver spread through the hall.
"Now, one by one—your name and your element. I want to see what kind of raw material I've been given."
Students stepped forward one by one—
"Riya, ice element."
"Tanvi, wind."
"Meera, water."
"Aditi, earth."
After each name, small reactions moved around the hall—
"Ice? Oh, she'll be strong."
"Wind users are fast…"
When Saloni's turn came, people were already a bit bored, but inside her a quiet tension still rose.
"Name?"
"Saloni."
"Element?"
A short silence.
"None."
A girl standing nearby whispered, "Then what is she doing in combat?"
Another curled her lip, "Maybe someone put her in the wrong class."
Instructor Raghav looked toward the whispers, then at Saloni.
There was no contempt in his eyes, just clear observation.
"No element," he said simply, "then your body is your weapon. Let's see how much strength it has."
Saloni stored his words somewhere in her chest.
"Now all of you, pair up in twos," Raghav ordered.
"First basic warm-up, then stance drills, then simple attack and block. Whoever is here to fool around can walk out now."
Everyone rushed around to find partners.
Within a few seconds, groups were formed.
No one really wanted to pair with Saloni; there was a little awkward silence. In the end, a plain-looking girl—maybe not very talkative—came and stood beside her.
"I'm… Asha," she said softly.
"Saloni," Saloni replied.
They both gave each other a small nod, like they had made a quiet agreement without much emotion.
First came the running—three laps around the hall.
Then push-ups, squats, basic stretches.
Saloni felt she had done all this before, but Raghav's counting and pace were far faster.
"If you're tired, you've already lost," Raghav's voice kept booming, "the body gives up first, then the mind. You'll have to learn to hold both together."
After that he showed the stance—
Feet at shoulder width, one forward, one back; knees slightly bent, hands at face height, chin a little tucked in.
"This is your home," he pointed toward the ground.
"In a fight, the one who loses this home falls.
The one who stays rooted in it is hard to knock down."
One by one, everyone repeated the stance.
Many wobbled, someone's weight shifted back, someone stood on their heels.
When he looked at Saloni, he observed her posture for a few seconds.
Her feet were well-planted, her body already trained by village streets and orphanage work.
Only her hand height was a little off.
Raghav came to her, lightly took her wrist and raised it up.
"Guard always here," he said.
"Whether your punch is good or not comes later—first, learn to survive."
Then came the basic drill:
One side would throw three straight punches, the other would only block; then they would change roles.
First Asha attacked and Saloni blocked.
On every block Saloni could feel the contact—
*this isn't just a fight of hands, it's a fight of the mind too. Timing, angle, everything matters.*
Then they switched positions.
Now Saloni had to throw three straight punches—with the strength she'd learned from books and instinct.
On the very first punch, Asha took a half-step back.
She managed to block the second, but her fingers bent back a little.
On the third, the instructor's voice cut in,
"Stop."
Raghav had reached them. Asha was rubbing her wrist.
He looked straight into Saloni's eyes and said,
"Power is not your problem. Control is.
If you had missed even a little just now, you could have fractured her hand."
Saloni stayed silent.
The rest of the class went into footwork, simple dodges, and mental stamina—
Raghav kept saying in between,
"When your body is gasping, when your mind is scattered, even then you'll have to decide:
step forward, or step back."
By the time class finally ended, everyone's clothes were soaked in sweat.
Many students sat down on the floor, some ran for water.
Saloni's breathing was heavy.
What will happen now?
To find out, keep reading **What Defines Me**.