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Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School (119/?) Revised Version
🕑 Added 2025-03-09 16:02:38 +0000 UTCHey everyone! There have been a few edits in this one! The one which I’d like to touch upon most is Emma’s wand project! :D I made the decision to withhold on that particular plot point for now, as I wanted to give it more time to breathe and especially more time to properly explore, especially given the importance of it! :D I’ve also added a few more lines to Sorecar’s class in the title sequence to help with the establishing shot! Other than that, most of the edits were done to improve on flow, as well as the usual changes done to correct grammar and spelling and such! :D As always, all of the revised sections are highlighted with an underline to easily see what’s been revised! :D
21 Hours Later
20 Minutes following the conclusion of Professor Articord’s class.
The Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts. En Route to the Apprentice’s Tower. Local Time: 1720 Hours.
Emma
Ilunor did, in fact, find last night’s impasse to be quite unacceptable.
Which was why much of the previous night was spent concocting a plan. One which was devised primarily to alleviate Ilunor’s growing concerns over Maltory’s book.
Ultimately, we agreed that no matter what, we would go to Larial’s office today, regardless of her absence.
So following a surprisingly tame lecture courtesy of Professor Articord — on topics that seemed to once again reinforce the Nexus’ perpetually-expanding, forever-discworld — we now found ourselves barreling head-first into the unknown.
But at least we weren’t alone.
“OHHOHOHOHOHO— WHAT?! WHY DIDN’T YOU START OFF WITH THAT?! OF COURSE I’d be happy to entertain this discourse, M’LORD!”
Though whether or not that was a boon or a burden… was most definitely up for debate.
But I knew one thing was for certain.
The fact he was able to make it work was definitely the most magical thing I’d seen him do so far.
Because through some odd combination of wishy-washy words, with enough empty and vapid grand-sweeping statements… he was able to actually convince the overly dramatic Apprentice Ral Altaria Del Narya Sey Antisonzia the Second — henceforth shortened to ‘The Bridge Apprentice’ — to take us to Larial’s office.
…
Or at least, as close to Larial’s office as was possible.
As our destination technically wasn’t her office, but instead his own.
“If I mayyyyy— while this is NOT my prerogative nor duty, my own exploits behooves me to ask! Why is it that you have kept your drake-jockeying exploits hidden for so long, M’LORD?!” The apprentice practically bellowed out, eliciting the attention of literally everyone currently sharing our hallway.
“Oh shush now, my dear fellow! I am nothing if not a modest man! I mean, why else would I have even entertained the thought of leading this sorry troupe I call my peers if it weren’t so?” The deluxe kobold jeered, garnering a vapidly, friendly, snooty laugh from the likes of the apprentice.
“A drake-rider and a gentleman! It would be an honor to discuss your aerial exploits, M’LORD!” The man replied boisterously. “I am, after all, something of a sky-jockey myself.” He chuffed through an uncomfortable series of haughty, nasally laughs. “So if you would be so willing, perhaps we may trade stories of this GENTLEMANLY pastime?”
“Of course of course! Where would my manners be if not with those who have earned their place amongst the skies!” Ilunor continued the mind-numbing flattery… until he didn’t. “Though, of course, I assume we can disregard pretenses if you would be so earnest.”
“Pretenses, M’LORD?”
“Let us not be beside ourselves, apprentice. We both understand the ultimate conclusion of this discourse, no?” Ilunor continued, his social facade contorting to a more coy one. “Why else would the Second Apprentice Lead of the Student’s Flying Organization be so forthcoming with this discussion… if not to offer me a place amidst their ranks?” Ilunor went for the jugular there, causing the apprentice to stiffen up, if only for a moment.
“Am I THAT much of an open book M’LORD?” He grinned cheekily.
“Perhaps I am merely an expert at deciphering the abstract and profound.” Ilunor spoke in a way I’ve rarely seen him do; flattering the man and inflating his already eccentric ego. As we finally crossed the threshold and into the apprentices’ tower, in the midst of their collective laughter, Ilunor finally glanced sharply in my direction, as if to remind me of our ad-hoc plan.
====
The Previous Night
“Remember earthrealmer, our plan is not to court this buffoon, but instead, to play the spymaster! Now, it is commonly known that the apprentices live, breathe, and work in their own exclusive tower. Thus, all we require is a passing stroll through their offices, and a glancing mention of Larial’s, at which point… I would humbly demand that you utilize two of your manaless creatures. One to confirm the whereabouts of the green book, and the second to act as our permanent sentry within her office. While I believe stealing the book to be a more straightforward solution, I will acquiesce to your demands. Ensuring the book’s whereabouts will be sufficient. Moreover, so long as a second manaless insect remains to notify us of Larial’s return, I shall be satisfied to simply request the book from her when she returns.”
“Just to be clear Ilunor, I’m only doing this because it’s pertinent to your quest. I’m not going to go around bugging the whole school. The more assets I deploy, the more I run the risk of people finding out about these drones. If that happens… we can say goodbye to the single most useful asset I have.”
=====
“EVI?”
“Yes, Cadet Booker?”
“You got those drones ready?”
“Affirmative. INFIL-DRONE01a… STATUS… READY TO DEPLOY. INFIL-DRONE02a… STATUS… READY TO DEPLOY.”
“Good. Just be ready to deploy them the moment we find our opening.”
“Acknowledged.”
“Cadet Emma Booker!” The bridge apprentice quickly turned in my direction. “I can only IMAGINE the sorts of awe-stricken faces to be garnered once the taming of sky beasts and the introduction of aerial vehicles finally reaches your realm!”
I responded with a tired nod, defusing the man’s intentions as he went back to the mindless back and forths with Ilunor.
Our walk through the Apprentices’ Tower was surprisingly normal, all things considered.
As unlike the faculty tower, there seemed to be markedly reduced instances of geometry-defying anomalies.
If anything, it reminded me of Dragon’s Heart Tower… if only a little bit more dressed up.
With white and black checkerboard marble floors adorning the lobby, and chandeliers appointing practically every hallway intersection that led way to the magical elevators.
Indeed, there seemed to only be one set of stairs in this entire tower. Though not grand, what it lacked in size, it more than made up for in verticality. As this spiral staircase quite literally went all the way up about thirty or so stories.
We passed by hundreds of Elven portraits on our way up, through the second, third, fourth, and then finally the twentieth floor.
At which point, Ilunor was practically gasping for breath.
The Vunerian, surprisingly, made it a point not to use me as his trusty steed this time around.
“Apologies M’LORD! I’d have assumed—”
“Is. This. The. Apprentice’s. Office. Floor?!” Ilunor managed out in-between unsteady breaths, leaning against one of the ornate pillars, and pointing at what was effectively a hallway with door upon unmarked door.
This posed a problem, as identifying Larial’s office was practically impossible.
“Indeed it is! Now, my office is just this way…” The man continued, walking down the corridor.
At which point, did Ilunor finally strike in-between bouts of vapid conversation.
“Does the Academy insist on keeping your doors so… bland? So completely… unadorned?”
This prompted the man to stop as he cocked his head in Ilunor’s direction.
“Without any form of personal embellishments as is the case with any noble occupying any of His Eternal Majesty’s ministries?”
“That ISssss Academy rrrregulation, M’LORD!”
“For shame.” Ilunor tutted. “‘Tis but a blank canvas. Just think… if given the opportunity, what brilliant gilded works would you adorn your door with, Apprentice?”
This one question… opened up the floodgates of torrential yapping. As seconds bled into minutes, prompting me to turn to the EVI.
“It takes a yapper to know a yapper, but I assume I don’t go that far when I really get into it, right?”
“ERROR: Query is unquantifiable.”
I was about to question exactly what the EVI meant by that, if it wasn’t for Ilunor’s gambit quickly panning out.
“Now, what would you say Apprentice Arlan Ostoy would prefer?”
“Oh, that dark and brooooody sycophant?! Why I’d assume his door would be completely gone! Buried! Entirely overrun! Hidden, entombed, and interned beneath the crests and sigils of those victims of his insincerrrre FLATTERY!”
“I can understand perhaps why personalization would be quite troublesome then.” Ilunor chuckled. “But even so, I doubt it would be an issue if his office weren’t adjacent to your own, no?”
“HAH! While that may be so, there are others whose… aesthetic differences would be entirely unacceptable!”
The conversation snowballed on from there.
So that’s how he’s going to subtly draw out intel from him. Feigning interest for each and every apprentice, and by extension, their hypothetical door-makeovers. I guess loose lips really do sink ships…
My mind was practically sludge by the end of it, at which point, he finally started talking about Larial’s door.
“Jackpot.”
But I still couldn’t deploy the drones though.
I needed just the right window of opportunity…
“Here, allow me!” The apprentice beamed, opening the door to his office, while utterly enamored by Ilunor’s conversation.
He’s distracted.
“Deploy!”
[INFIL-DRONE01a… DEPLOYED.]
[INFIL-DRONE02a… DEPLOYED.]
Seconds was all that was needed.
A second to undock, a second to take off, and another second to book it towards Larial’s office.
[OBJECTIVE 1 COMPLETE]
[COMMENCING PRIMARY SURVEYS]
The first phase of the mission was a success.
“Oh Cadet Emma Booookeeeer, would you care to join us for a spot of tea?” The Apprentice hollered, his voice booming from within his room.
But now comes the real challenge… actually following through with our asinine pretenses.
…
2 Hours Later
“And thus I proclaimed: YOU. SHALL. NOT. PASS!”
We both stared at the apprentice blankly.
“Just to clarify, this was during your stint as the bridge guard to the library, right?”
“Oh, no no no, by His Majesty’s word, no! This was during my first instance as an exam proctor!”
We both breathed out a sigh of exhaustion, our eyes collectively turning to the clock behind the man.
This prompted him to quickly follow suit, his eyes widening in horror.
“BY HIS MAJESTY, HAS IT BEEN THAT LONG?!” The Apprentice stood up, his head now glancing back and forth between the door and his window. One that overlooked the Grand Dining Hall and the dinner which we were now all late for. “LET US MAKE HASTE!” He yelled, quickly grabbing his keys, and then promptly shunting us out the door.
From there, it was every man for himself.
As the apprentice booked it by leaping and jumping straight through the central chasm in the middle of the spiral staircase.
This left just Ilunor and I to blink at each other blankly.
“Well… that was—”
[INFIL-DRONE 1A: MISSION PARAMETERS… ACCOMPLISHED. RTB.]
I stopped in my tracks, my eyes quickly focusing on the targeting reticle highlighting the return of INFIL-DRONE 1a.
Ilunor, with visible disgust upon noticing the drone’s docking procedures, spoke urgently. “Well?! Is it—”
[DATA UPLOAD COMPLETE. PRIORITY TARGET LOCATED. REPORT AVAILABLE.]
“Yeah, it’s there alright.” I nodded, my eyes quickly scrolling through the brief one-page report complete with embedded video. “Behind some fancy glowing magical barriers, but it’s there.”
“By His Eternal Majesty’s Light…” The Vunerian breathed a sigh of relief.
“You're welcome.” I chided. “Well, with that over with, the second infil-drone will report Larial’s arrival as soon as it detects it.”
Ilunor nodded, his features locked between relief and a still-latent nervousness.
“It’ll be fine, Ilunor. Trust me. Now, let’s get some well-deserved downtime, shall we?”
With a surprisingly polite nod, we were off. Taking the long way down the spiral staircase, though about half way I began fantasizing about simply jumping straight through the middle hole with Ilunor in tow.
The suit is rated for it… or at least close to it… I thought to myself, just as our silent little jaunt came to an inexplicable halt.
“Students? In the Exaltorium?” A hardened female voice broke me out of my reverie.
A voice brimming with both urgency and authority, carrying with it a cadence I hadn’t yet heard on this side of the portal.
A cadence that immediately brought back memories of Aunty Ran’s ‘drill instructor’ tone.
And one that I’d gotten used to following the instructions of for the past year of training.
I instinctively stopped, my muscles tensing reflexively, as I turned to face the source of this voice.
One that the EVI had yet to assign a name or a face to.
In front of us, or rather, a flight of stairs below us on the next floor down was an armored elf.
Though unlike Sorecar’s full-form plate armor leaving everything to the imagination, this elf’s uniform was something else entirely.
A design that screamed officer-material.
With a sloped and elegant copper-gold chestplate that ended just above her lower abdomen, two glowing pauldrons with aiguillettes tethered into some hidden side-pocket, a half-helmet nestled in the crook of her arm, and a flowy Age of Sail captain’s jacket set over the armor — both her aesthetic and presence was set in stark contrast to everything I’ve seen at the Academy so far.
And it wasn’t just her outfit that was doing it for me either.
If anything, it was her gaze.
Her piercing, no-nonsense expression that lacked the signature look of haughty superiority found on other nobles, instead replacing it with a relaxed look of assured authority.
It was something that only the Dean, and Mal’tory to a certain extent, had been able to embody.
Except this time… it was being done effortlessly.
“Yes, ma’am.” I replied instantly, leaving barely any time for dead air to form.
“They allow first years to roam freely now, do they?”
“No ma’am. We were granted permission by one Apprentice Ral Altaria Del Narya—”
“Save your breath, girl.” The armored elf interjected, much to my surprise.
A quick glance to Ilunor’s pale-blue face confirmed that this… brevity was definitely out of the ordinary.
“Now tell me. I don’t imagine you can fly, now can you?”
That question… caught both of us by surprise.
As Ilunor attempted to address it, opening his mouth only to be shot down.
“Not you, Vunerian.” The elf quite literally snapped her head in Ilunor’s direction, the only part of her to even move with the rest of her remaining as still as a statue.
“I was addressing the candidate.”
Her head quickly snapped back in my direction, those dark-purple eyes piercing sharply through my lenses.
“Not through conventional means, ma’am.” I answered bluntly.
“Let me be clear — can you, or can you not, ride a winged mount?”
“No ma’am. Not anything Nexian or otherwise, at least.”
“And yet you were present at what was ostensibly a recruitment campaign for the Academy’s Flying Club.” She reasoned, deducing everything in what felt like a heartbeat.
“Yes ma’am. I was present, though it is worth noting—”
“I require no further explanation.” She cut me off once more. Her features… betraying neither dissatisfaction nor malicious intent. “I appreciate your honesty, candidate. Not many would be so forthright, so willing to admit to what would otherwise be a cause for suspicion to oneself.”
The elf cleared her throat, her features… intentionally softening.
“Such earnesty is refreshing.”
A few seconds’ pause suddenly punctuated those words. Though barely a drop in the bucket in most conversations, the rapid pace of this one made the silence feel unbearably long by comparison.
This pause… was uncharacteristically broken by a soft snicker and a genuine smile across a face second only to the armor for its stoicism.
“I won’t take much more of your time. It is not my place, nor do I care to enforce the Academy’s rules.” The elf’s words, just as surprisingly, started softening by the tail end of things. Not so much switching between authoritative and lenient, but moreso, skirting the gradient of both. “I take it your time has been well-spent thus far, candidate?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Your experiences… satisfactory?”
“In all honesty, given I have nothing to compare this experience to, I’d have to get back to you on that one, ma’am.”
That response… elicited a slight change in the elf’s features. Namely, the subtle growth of a friendly smirk.
“A diplomat’s response. Admittedly terse, but stately all the same.” She acknowledged with a genuine smile. “Very well. If there is anything I can do to improve your experience, please — as they say in the common vernacular — don’t be a stranger.”
“I’ll certainly keep that in mind. Thank you.” I dipped my head slightly in response.
“Both of you best be off now. I wish you both a pleasant dinner. If we ever cross paths again, I do wish to extend my offer in providing you your first winged mount experience, candidate. Seeing as you have yet to have the pleasure of doing so.” She offered as that tone of authority gave way to genuine warmth, if only for a brief moment. “Carry on as you were, candidate. Vunerian.”
A thousand and one questions flooded my mind now.
All of which were poised straight at this mysterious armored elf.
Though I knew this wasn’t the place for it.
We were just offered an out… and I was sure as hell going to take it.
Ilunor most definitely agreed with this, as he began pacing much faster than he did earlier.
However, just as we passed by the mystery-elf’s stoic figure, did she suddenly decide to throw a curveball our way.
“And students?” She uttered politely, yet refused to turn in our direction.
“Yes ma’am?”
“...I don’t suppose either of you have seen Apprentice Larial around, have you?”
I froze, my whole body tensing inside of the armor.
Ilunor, thankfully, remained cool all throughout, his poker face really coming in handy now more than ever.
“No, ma’am.”
“I see. Very well then, as you were.”
We began pacing out of there following that.
And despite not overtly showing any signs of malicious intent… I couldn’t help but to keep my eyes plastered on my rear-view camera.
As it showed the armored elf’s static and stoic form just… standing there, remaining completely still within eyeshot until we were finally out of a direct line of sight.
=====
Several Hours Later.
Dragon’s Heart Tower, Level 23, Residence 30, Living Room. Local Time: 2100 Hours.
Emma
“What the hell was that?” I managed out under an unsteady breath, having just replayed the entire sequence of events to an incredibly wary Thalmin and an equally apprehensive Thacea.
“She’s a goldthorn, that’s what.” Ilunor hissed out through a sooty breath.
[‘GOLDTHORN’. No known translations found within the Working Language Database.]
“I’m… sorry, that’s not really translating well—”
“A member of the Inner Guard. Specifically, those granted investigative authority, primarily in policing and intelligence duties. Goldthorns, is simply a term for those performing investigations open to the public light. That’s how she deduced, quite easily, the ‘business’ we had in the Exaltorium. No doubt she saw that buffoon jumping off the twentieth floor…” Ilunor trailed off, before reorienting himself with a cough. “In any case. Goldthorns tend to be… problematic, but harmless if you avoid obstructing their investigation. They are, in their own strange way, honor-bound to the rule of law and noble justices.”
“This is in stark contrast to the blackthorns, who work exclusively in the dark, performing ancestors’ only knows what in the shadows of the Nexus and beyond.” Thalmin growled out, his eyes locked onto the armored elf’s friendly smile.
[New esoteric colloquialisms added to the Working Language Database]
“Right. That makes sense.” I nodded. “A thorn in one’s backside, is probably where this originates from right?”
A few blinks were exchanged between both Thalmin and Ilunor, each narrowing their eyes at my statement. “Roughly, yes.” They spoke unanimously.
“Though when you phrase it so… blatantly, you lose the transformative participle which elevates the word from common to High Nexian.” Ilunor explained, eliciting an affirmative beep from the EVI’s active-learning algorithms.
However, no sooner was that beep heard, did another assault my senses.
This one… actually offering something vital to the conversation.
[Alert: Current topic of discussion matches recorded footage from MAL’TORY’S OFFICE. Accurate to minimal extrapolative parameters.]
My eyes grew wide at the rapid analysis report (RAR), as a few seconds was all that was necessary to connect the dots.
“Thank you, EVI.” I acknowledged inwardly, before turning to everyone present.
“Guys.” I announced, garnering everyone’s attention. “I think we may know who she is and what she’s doing here.”
With a quick flick of my tablet, I began replaying the INFIL-DRONE's footage from Larial’s investigation of Mal’tory’s office.
Honing in on Sorecar’s questions as to the apprentice’s involvement with the ‘Inner Guard’.
“Though, forgive me if I am overstepping my bounds here… but I do assume that the seal on your notebook belongs to the Inner Guard. Dare I say it, it reminds me of a sub-order within the guard; the Beholders of His Eternal Majesty, to be precise.”
Ilunor plopped back against the couch at this reminder, his hands cradled in a ‘triangle’ around his snout.
“So this must be the investigator the Dean mentioned too.” I acknowledged. “A member of the Inner Guard, the—”
“The Beholders of His Eternal Majesty.” Ilunor interjected. “That… narrows it down somewhat, but not precisely. However, this is admittedly one of the tamer sub-orders within the Inner Guard.”
“Which explains why she seemed rather hospitable—”
“I still wouldn’t dare entertain anything she says or offers, Cadet Emma Booker.” Ilunor warned gravely. “If anything, her earlier actions could be explained away as a dragon toying with its food.”
“But in any case.” Thalmin sighed out loudly. “The dean says he’s covering Lord Lartia’s death, is he not?”
“Yeah.” I nodded.
“And if anything, she seems much more focused on Larial.” He continued.
“Yeah… maybe there’s some game going on behind the scenes. Maybe she’s expanded the investigation’s scope beyond Lord Lartia’s death to Mal’tory’s responsibility with the Library, or maybe it’s a little bit of everything… let’s just keep on our toes for the time being.”
We all nodded collectively at that, breathing a sigh of relief, with everyone reaching for this evening’s tray of delectable snacks.
But just as everyone was about to settle in — homework in one hand, tea in another — a series of knocks threw us back into the deep end.
KNOCK! KNOCK!! KNOCK!!!!
Everyone held their breaths as both Thalmin and I stood up first.
Though it was Thalmin who ultimately decided to take the plunge, as he marched forwards, opening the door to reveal—
YAAAAWWWWWNNNNNN
“OI! I THOUGHT I WAS DONE WITH YOU LOT! NOW YER EXPECTING PACKAGES AT THE CRACK OF MOONLIGHT?!” The bridge apprentice drawled out, handing Thalmin a package.
“And ‘ere I thought, ‘OH! That should be IT for all you worthless busy-bodies’ tailored CLOTHES, and bespoke PENS!’ I guess they MISSED a package, now DIDN’T THEY?!” He chastised. “You oughta pick the more reputable establishments in town. Ones that actually FINISH their orders on time!”
We all stared at the man in varying levels of confusion — though he did offer Ilunor a little nod through the doorway.
“We—”
SLAM!
Thalmin barely had any time to counter him before he was rebuked by a door slam.
“Emma?”
“Yes, Thalmin?”
“What exactly did you order from town? I assumed your knick-knacks were already all delivered—”
“They were!” I countered. “Let me see what that—” I walked up, grabbing the package, before realizing just what this was before even opening it.
“Oh.” I muttered, furiously tearing the festive wrapper apart, to reveal a boring white box.
Within it, however, was a dozen or so vials of ink—
Probably to add weight to it so it wasn’t too suspicious…
—and a simple note.
One written in some sort of cypher that Thacea promptly decoded.
“The guild master requests your presence tomorrow, Emma.” She uttered softly. “Late afternoon, early evening preferably.”
“So they’re back that early, huh?”
“Not necessarily.” Thalmin corrected. “It is customary for guild leaders to provide ample warning before the return of an adventuring party out of courtesy for the issuer of a quest. Given the professionalism of Sym’s Troubleshooters, I assume they more than likely sent a messenger bird out in advance.”
“Right.” I nodded. “Alright then.” I took a breath, steadying myself at the two major paths in front of us. “I think we can put a tentative pause on Ilunor’s library quest for now. With the book firmly in Larial’s office, and the drone there as an early warning measure, I think we should be fine. So with that quest on hold until Larial’s arrival… let’s focus on catching ourselves an amethyst dragon.”
=====
20 Hours Later
The Grand Concourse of Learning. The Hall of Light.
Manafield Perception and Light Magic Theory Class.
Incumbent Lecturer: Professor Mal’tory [N/A], Apprentice Larial [N/A], Professor Sorecar [Present]
Local Time: 1700 Hours.
Emma
Larial was, once again, nowhere to be found.
Which meant that the class was, by rules of succession, temporarily under Sorecar’s reign.
All of this was to say, this was actually a fun class for once.
Combining that with the whole Class Sovereign posturing between the Big Two, and today’s class was less of a boring lecture, and more an entirely demonstrative class. Consisting primarily of magical dueling, with lectures seamlessly embedded during, between, or at the tail end of each fight.
‘Project Wand Step for Mankind’ would’ve very much been useful in the class no doubt.
But… inexplicable complications forced its temporary hold, until the EVI could fine-tune issues found in both its software and hardware.
“Hohoho! I have yet to see such heated theatrics between two Sovereign candidates-to-be!” Sorecar beamed out boisterously, his laughter echoing within the armor, generating this tinny voice that caused some students to flinch in annoyance.
“Young lords, I urge you to pace yourselves. While I am more than happy to provide a stage to upstage one another, I would not dare ask you to risk life and limb for a simple lecture… at least, not until the Academy changes their minds on such matters.” The man spoke coyly. “Ahhh! I still remember the days when—”
TOO-TOOO-TOOOOOT!
“Ah, well, that’s that then! Please remember to do your homework!”
All eyes were on the empty blackboard, prompting the man to clarify himself.
“Your homework, of course, is to improve the skills you’ve observed today! For next time… there will be more practicals!” He beamed.
Sighs were exchanged all throughout the hall as everyone started filing out.
However, contrary to the flow of students, the gang and I remained behind.
Only after the students and the band had left did we approach Sorecar.
The man cocking his head clearly in curiosity at our unprompted conversation.
“Professor?”
“Yes, Cadet Emma Booker?”
‘There are only a handful of ways to leave the Academy for town during the weekdays. Though it is not uncommon for students to ‘fabricate’ their own reasons, to enjoy the freedom of town life as opposed to the bland sameness of the evening dinner.’ I recalled Thacea’s words last night as I took a breath, hoping this little gambit would work.
“I was wondering if you could give me a night pass into town. I need… some modifications done to my school uniform.” I smiled brightly.
The professor’s visor slowly lowered itself at that question, mimicking what I could only imagine was a ‘narrowing’ of one’s eyes out of suspicion.
“Is that so? And what exactly is wrong with your uniform, Cadet?” He shot back coyly.
“Wellll, I’m thinking I need to loosen the sides of the cloak a bit, they sorta get in the way of my movement.” I managed out with a sly yet nervous smile beneath the helmet.
“Oh? Is that so? Why, we most certainly can’t have that holding back our students!” The man’s visor suddenly flipped up, the plate of steel snapping up so fast that it reached the end of its hinge with a solid — clank! — forcing it to rebound back down into a closed position. “Well… as acting Professor, this is something I can easily do.” He chuckled boisterously, that tinny voice causing Ilunor to squint.
You’re really the MVP here, Sorecar. I thought to myself with a satisfied smile, watching as the man began drafting up a small letter.
“Just make sure to return before the portals close.” He dipped his tone for just a moment, making sure to hammer home that one non-negotiable clause.
“Will do, Professor. Thank you.” I bowed deeply, the man reciprocating as we eventually bid our goodbyes for the time being.
“And do stop by the workshop some time, Cadet Emma Booker!” He beamed, flailing his arms around from the bottom of the lecture hall. “I have much to discuss!”
=====
Nexus. The Crown Herald Town of Elaseer. Ambassadorial District. The Adventurer’s Guild Hall of Elaseer. Local Time: 1754 Hours.
Sym the Honeydew
thump. Thump. THUMP!
SLAM!
We entered through those double doors with ragged breaths and mud-stained boots.
A loud THUMP soon followed, as gear and supplies were dropped unceremoniously onto the guild’s hardwood floors.
Yet in spite of our loud and flippant arrival, not a single soul present seemed to be the least bit bothered.
What would’ve otherwise upended the chatter of the rowdiest of bars, was just another weekday around here.
If anything, the world within the guild hall seemed to accommodate this sort of unprompted arrival.
As adventurers-in-training quickly arrived to collect, organize, and sort our gear into neat little trolleys — the sort of service one would only expect to find in one of those upscale inns.
More than that, we were greeted with the soft and polite smile of one of the guild’s most prominent public-facing figures.
A woman only known as The Receptionist.
“I see you four have returned…” The elf noted with her perpetually-cordial cadence, flicking open her gold-tethered pocket watch in the process. “... earlier than expected, and right on time for your appointment.”
“Wouldn’t have sent a bird if we weren’t going to make the call.” I replied cockily. “So, are our quest-givers here yet?”
“No, but I doubt you’ll be able to make yourselves presentable within a timely fashion. I suggest you make haste for the guild master’s office, as it shouldn’t take long now before—”
SLAM!
“—they arrive.”
We turned towards the door — some of us caked in mud, others in soot and ash — to find four neatly dressed, prim and proper nobles.
Two of which seemed to have their hands full with all manner of overpriced snacks.
Though only one — the Vunerian — seemed adamant on making sure everyone knew his presence, and that his time was not worthy of delaying his dinner over, munching down on said treats with a condescending glare.
“Hah! Well isn’t this a coincidence!” The blue knight spoke first, taking the reins of the conversation. “We have much to discuss!”
“Aye… that we do.” I acknowledged warily.
Comments
TheEagerReader
Delaying Project Wandstep is a good idea. I’d like the idea I heard from Discord about the rest of the gang performing spells of each mana type to let Emma calibrate. It’s good world building.
I Dare Korval
2 things: - The Goldthorn never gave her name (that I noticed) - Could she be related to Larial and know about Emma saving her? Maybe that's part of why she is being so friendly with Emma?
Michael Halpern
i love how much Emma is saying without saying it.
