My little dragon drawing is almost complete when I hear the teacher tell me to come to her desk. "Amoretta, how far along are you with the analysis assignment?" she asks with a knowing look in her eye.
"Uuuh," I rush to recall how much I had even written down before I had started drawing. "I'm about three fourths of the way done?"
A small smile plays at the corner of her lips as she asks, "May I see?"
With a quick nod yes I go to grab my paper off my desk. Unfortunately, I did not have the forethought to draw the little dragon on said desk instead of on her assignment, but I know she won't mind much. As long as you turn in well done and completed work she doesn't care. But there's only ten more minutes left in class, and the assignment is due to her when the bell rings.
The teacher's smile widens as she tells me how good my drawing is. I gain five artwall points. Reading along with her though, I realize just how unfinished my analysis is. I probably need another paragraph to fully develop and argue my claim. The teacher recognizes this. I see it in the way her eyes scan the paragraph below.
"What is the point you're trying to make?" she asks.
I take a second to form my answer. "The way that the text's themes of despair are related to the photos displayed is from their shared simplicity and nondescript nature."
"Great! I want you to replace your claim with those exact words. It pulls the points you've written down together more. Also," she turns to me, dark brown eyes holding my golden hazel gaze, "I want you to try and sum up the rest of your analysis in three or four sentences. Try just using descriptions of the text and images to prove your second point. Try to sum everything up in a single paragraph."
"Gotcha. Thanks Ms. Vinline."
She gives me a kind smile and hands me back the paper. "You're welcome."
If I had to pick a class to call my favorite Expanian would just beat out Workshop. Ms. Vinline is an awesome teacher, and Expainian can be a pretty relaxing class. So glad I get to start off my school day not feeling like shit. Ms. Vinline is like calming morning tea, which I find surprising as she is a Marquess's daughter. But Monte Carlo Middle Prep, by nature, is a school for nobles by nobles. And if I had to describe the nobles at Monte Carlo Mid, they would be like taking that same calming cup of morning tea, adding two tablespoons of dirt, and insisting that it is still spiced chai.
So needless to say I don't like it here. I want to go back home, but I can't. I'm not allowed to…I think? Honestly, I don't know, but what I do clearly remember is that I must live in the Kingdom of Almabillux for six years.
Four months of living amongst these humans later, I've realized something about Almabillux: It's shit. The Kingdom is shit and it's nobles are shit. The current King and his family are trying to change their shit into respectable humans, but humans are humans after all. They've made Almabillux a Kingdom of tradition and pride, not progress, so any form of change will move like tree sap. They're all stuck in the past, the demand to uphold tradition holding them back like a vice. You can see it in the architecture, the fashion, society, and some of their technology. Yet they've somehow managed to remain a world power strictly through the sheer amount of goods they export and import, and the strength and notoriety of their adventurers.
I can thank my history teacher for that bit of knowledge but I would rather shave off my dreads than do that. Thank Fons I don't have an actual class with her. But my schedule does, regrettably, include two classes with two other insufferable nobles who don't deserve a shred of respect. How they run their classes is something that should be heavily scrutinized by the administration, but that won't ever happen. One is a very influential Countess, and the other a highly acclaimed former adventurer. It's abysmal that they're the ones looked at as model teachers, ones deserving of the highest respect simply because of their status. The only teachers deserving of respect, of my respect, are Ms. Vinline who teaches second and third year Expainian, Mr. Tally who teaches second and third year math, and Mr. Ateli who teaches third year Workshop.
A little thing about Mr. Tally though is that he's a little–no scratch that, a lot weird. He has a zealous insistence on me solving every equation he puts up on his stupid Techniboard, despite the fact that I'm not the best at math. It's easy for me to figure out what information I need in order to begin solving a word problem, but I can easily get steps confused. Sometimes I think I have to do thing A in order to get thing B for this problem, yet it turns out that that's how you solve this other problem. But Mr. Tally has an eerie faith in me. Despite that, he is a great teacher. If it weren't for…well that, I might even like his class. Mr. Tally's lessons are easily understandable and well paced. It's why I respect him as a teacher.
It's 11:05am and second period, math with Mr. Tally, has just ended. As I'm walking down a hall to get to the school's gym, I see some guys from class A harassing a guy from class D. A typical weak versus the "strong" scenario you'd get out of any generic story. A class A guy is holding the class D guy's backpack just out of his reach, throwing it to his other buddies whenever the D guy gets just a little too close to his own property. As I pass the humans, D guy lets out a short enraged scream and punches the A guy that currently has his backpack. A fight breaks out. The grunts and yells fade into the background as I walk toward the gym.
Once I get to the girls locker room I change into my gym uniform. Unlike most of my classmates my uniform is a loud pink tracksuit, which I wear with a black mini strap bandeau, and black sneakers. It happened to look ok on me so I went with it. I got it, for what I now know is cheap, from my local SunTodo. SunTodo: "We got everything, just don't ask where it came from." The school pretty much said, Fuck you, and only gave me the girls school uniform: a short pleated maroon skirt, plain white collared t-shirt, and a maroon ascot with accents of silver. Silver means you're a rank C in this school, but the role that colors play in identification is a basic practice in Almabillux. It's so they can easily identify your status in a workplace, in a school, and even on the streets.
I'm always the first one to enter the gym. Second are these three other un-uniformed kids. The rest of the class usually comes in about five or eight minutes later. When I finish changing, like always, I walk into an empty gym and sit down on the first cherry red empty bleacher nearest the large double exit-entrance doors.
About five minutes later, the rest of the class–with their fancy high grade sweat absorption and hexagonal patterned dark gray tank tops and leggings, all accented with maroon and silver–walk in. The teacher walks in along with the boys, wheeling in a cart full of quality looking wooden swords. They're a giant pinkish square of a man, face always flushed red. It's shortly cropped dark brown hair looks like a foreign thing they just placed on their head. Their nose is gigantic, and it's nostrils have a slight, ever present, flare to them. In short, they're a giant pig masquerading as a human.
"Helloooo class C!!" the teacher yells.
"Good morning Coach Somatin!" the class yells back. I just sit there stone-faced.
"Today," the pig yells, smiling, "for our main event, we're going to be dueling with these swords here! So later I'll have you all partner up and show the class what you've got!"
Class C snickers, most glancing my way. « Yaaaaay, » I think, « forced to be the center of attention again. »
"But first," Somatin pauses. The pig lets it's echo die out before yelling, "Warm-ups!!!" Now the class groans. I really couldn't care less. Every physical and magical task at this school is way too easy for me. After all, these guys are all under level 1. Or to be more accurate, Unus D1. Actually more like E4 if I go by the human modified WLS. (Though there are some students around E6).
"Hello again. It's me, Morphus, if you forgot… Haha… So I guess I forgot to tell you this but, yeah, I'll start with the WLS. The WLS stands for World Leveling System and was originally created by a famous guy to gauge the power of the non-human races. So monsters and the like. Like your video games, my world operates on levels. Level 1 in numbers would be like…I guess 10,000 points or P is the best way to put it. So the famous guy…right! So he took anything level 10 and below and made that the class of Unus. Unus represents the power level of 100,000 P and below, and– so D is 25,000 P and under. Adding the 1 narrows that even further, meaning something that is Unus D1 is estimated to have a power level of 5,000 P or lower. The human modified WLS is just letters and numbers, with E being the lowest letter. So a rank of E4 is 4,000 P. That's it."
Somatin was a Gold adventurer with a rank of 5, so I guess it's closer to 30,000 P, which would make mr. piggy a C10. How the hell the pig became "highly acclaimed" with that power level is beyond me. It likely had something to do with it's prowess though.
"Sorry to be back so soon but a prowess is a special ability possessed by every human race and some monster creatures. Those "demons"…beasts are the only humanoid type creatures who lack them, and it wasn't by my doing. Really. But they did gain somefinn– I mean, something in return though, so yeah."
The warm-ups are easy and I perform at the level of an average student. It's always mainly cardio and stretching to the lovely sound of Somatin's bragging. Today, while doing some push ups, the pig recounted the story of it's first time slaying a monster–heroically, of course.
After warm-ups we were allowed to rest for five minutes and get some water. The "main event" where students duel students is fine I guess. Amongst class C is a guy who… Well he's…he is he. He always finds a way to talk about how long he's been studying swordplay and swordsmanship, "Practically [his] whole life." It's to the point where, even if it's not his intention, he sounds like a major braggart. But he's actually got skill! For a human his age he's talented. But he talks about swords and his training so often that he gets so freaking annoying!
His family likely doesn't give a crap about him, never giving him any attention for anything but his swordplay. I mean, that seems likely to me. I'm not exactly sure, but based on what I know I believe I'm right. That doesn't stop me from disliking him though. Sympathy can only go so far; especially my sympathy for humans. Like, it's always, Sword thing this, and, Hey look I can do blah blah blah, from this guy! His whole being just… It's frustrating.
Our main event is definitely treated like a main event. Each partner group spars in front of the whole class, all eyes on them. So because of this, naturally, I'm partnered with the teacher for my duel. Other "lowers" are either partnered with other "lowers" or other "talented" students like the braggart– oop! Excuse me; other students like Cuanto.
The human skin wearing pig of a gym teacher is more of a peacock personality wise, so of course it'd take the opportunity to crush me: the student who is not from a prestigious and noble human family, but who outperforms all others (physically and magically) at this school.
Oh joy, I think as I walk towards the teacher, lovely wooden sword in hand, Imma get to beat your ugly animalistic form into faux floor wax. How "exciting".
While I'd prefer to use my scythe I do need practice in properly wielding a sword. I don't practice with mine as often as I should, or even use it in sword form. I'd also prefer not to dirty my beautiful scythe with pig's blood as I would most definitely not be able to resist killing this fool. Then I wouldn't be able to attend a high school, which would make my mother quite angry. A small shake racks my body just thinking about that.
« Let's just focus on the, » I softly snort, « the fight. »
A small smile creeps onto my lips. I can't help it! The word fight is so very laughable in this situation.
« Fight! Ha! »
You could hardly call my little duel with the teacher a fight. Sure, I make it look close enough with sloppy last second dodges, some weak prairies thrown in with half decent ones, and strong thrusts every now and then.
« Maybe I should have tried to spar with Cuanto?» I think as I parry my animal of a teacher. « This pig's worse with a sword than I am. And it was a Gold ranked adventure? Ridiculous! »
Somatin's all brute force and little technique. And definitely no strategy. Well, I'm virtually all speed. While I have no real technique either, his movements look practically leisurely to me. My body has almost too much time to re-remember movements taught to me from about six years back. It's a strain just to make it look like we're just evenly matched (making myself look a bit weaker of course).
I am acutely aware of our audience as I play with Somatin. A little too aware. It's a relatively new and weird feeling. It ever so slightly racks my nerves to notice how the classes tiny little stupid faces are fixated on me and the pig. They look so unimpressed yet arrogant, which tugs on my self confidence but doesn't diminish it. Nevertheless there's the feeling. I don't like it.
Only as I block a "fierce" vertical strike to my head does my brain decide to flirtatiously murmur: What do you think would happen if you were to utterly destroy and humiliate the pig after struggling like you have?
A sadistic mental grin turns into a small physical smirk as I dart to the right and make a terrible swing for Somatin's ribs.
The idea is delicious, but my mind immediately counters with, « You really want to out yourself that easily!? Secret be damned!? Is beating the weak really more important? »
It's not.
Trading uninteresting blows, taking petty revenge on this defenseless animal is fruitless. My family's safety is my all. It's my job. It's what I've dedicated my life towards. Humiliating this animal is not worth risking their safety (not that they exactly need my protection though). Yet I can't just let Somatin continue on being smug. It's time I put mr. piggy in its place. But I'll do it through simple skill, not power. I'll, as humans say, have my cake and eat a little bit of it too or however the expression goes.
Round four, I take my loss with indifferent humility instead of quiet indignation. Only one more round left and Somatin and I each have 2 points. Round five, I annihilate the pig. Seven seconds–a sacred number. In that time I had mr. piggy on the floor, concussed, and unresponsive. One good whack to the under section of it's chinny-chin-chin was all it took.
The feeling from before dissipates.
I calmly walk over to the cart Somatin wheeled out earlier, then place my wooden sword carefully back into it. Why damage good goods, I always say. Turning back around towards the class I take in their delicious aghast expressions. Petrified C class was. They couldn't look away from Somatin's unconscious body.
My footsteps echo loudly as I make my way to the gym's doors. No one stops me. Everything is silent. I can feel their fear like how I can feel the steady late spring sun's rays streaming through the gym's high windows. It's enriching. It refills the sips of confidence that the class had drunk from my cup. But I cannot, must not, remind these fools too often that I am not one to be trifled with. I must not let anyone discover who I am and what I do. Especially since the existence of my chosen profession is well known due to its much celebrated nature in the eastern nation of Fonsiphus Hisui.
The 1st of month 9, around 12:20pm, I overheard something. Generally, I like to walk out to the school's old gazebo and teleport to the nearby forest at the first toll of the lunch bell, but that day, five or so minutes before the bell even rang, the pig gave me some papers to drop off to another teacher like halfway across the friggin' school. It was 12:19pm when I finally escaped that person's office. Nine minutes of my precious lunch time gone, all because this person just kept talking and talking and talking, forgetting time and time again that they had papers that I needed them to sign.
Just before exiting, I overheard my magics teacher and another teacher discussing a two day prep course for the third years geared at helping them pass LAMS's entrance test. At that point I didn't know what LAMS was, or that it was even a school. I honestly thought that it was some extra hard academics course with a weird acronym. I was like 2% correct.
LAMS: Luminous Academy of Magic and Swords. Founded by the first King of Allmabillux, Lanzane Chrysoros ne Luxgera, Initial year 6,872. It's express purpose is to nurture those with great talents and gifts within the Kingdom.
When I heard that, I remembered that two of my friends had gone there when they were about my age. From what I remember of several small conversations, LAMS is a solid human school.
It came as no surprise to me when it was later announced that, in about a month, we'd be taking part in that prep course. The Prep Event, as they called it. What did come as a surprise was that something called the Royal Guard would be giving us some type of help or training the second day of the event. As everyone else seemed to know what or who the Royal Guard were, no explanation was given. I, while still curious, had no motivation to look up what they were and assumed that they'd be of little concern to me. Besides, they're probably the guards for the royals as the name implies, so they definitely aren't any concern to me. This nation's most "powerful" humans are still weak, and won't be able to teach me something about magic or fighting that I don't already know.
Well, there is technically one exception…
The next month was roughly the same as ever: Ms. Vinline was as lovely as usual, Mr. Tally was weird, Somatin was a dick, my lunch time was peaceful, Mojo and her lessons were annoying, and Workshop was workshop.
Today, the 8th of month 10, is a Tuesday, and the Prep Event starts the 10th, a Thursday. I actually feel kind of excited. I don't know why but I do. I can't explain it. Even though I know that going to LAMS is utterly useless for anything besides pleasing my mother, I'm still excited whenever I hear mention of it. Maybe being sixteen has something to do with it, as this is the age in which I could choose to enter into a high school.
If I'm being honest, I don't really want to go, but what little I remember of my friends' tales keeps softly whispering to me. They're so compelling! But there's an even louder, scarier voice rising above them: My mothers. It's telling me that I better get into a high school. Any high school.
I sigh. It really is my imagination but I know that mother did want me to go to a high school, before she sent me off. The details are foggy, but I remember enough to know that it was her, my father's, and my grandfather's wish, so it might as well be LAMS. Also, the videos and posters I see about it are extremely enticing. Their…what's it called?…marketing, is really good. Whatever their doing makes me want in, even though it's just so I can be like, Wow, that was really cool! Thanks and goodbye!
"Hi. I'm back, but don't worry, it'll– I mean, this will be a short explanation. Yes you heard correctly, she said video. Magic. All thanks to magic they have movies and TV shows and cartoons–they call them anime! Hehe! …Uh bye."
I guess despite my hate, or more accurately, dislike of humans, I am still human. I guess I want to relate to some human experiences? I don't know. I mean, I do enjoy going to cafés like most kids my age. Though the word café does sound Francophone, it is apparently a native Expainian word. And while that's interesting it's not enticing.
My favorite café is Dulce Dulcis located not too far from Monte Carlo Mid. It's a nice little spot with a large variety of pastries from all over the continent. It can be pretty pricey, but it's worth it! The taste… AHH! LOVELY! And the owners are pretty nice too. You have Mr. Terris J. Johnson in the back, making everything himself, then Mr. Peru K. Johnson, handling customers, decor, marketing, and everything in the front, and their daughter Kam L. Johnson, generally acting as the go between for the front and back, but she also organizes and decorates the pastries for large orders. A well oiled machine! And one I'd, again, LOVE to visit if I wasn't so, well, broke.
I put most of my money into renovating my apartment. I don't regret it. And yet I regret it.
"Move those legs Grego! I wanna see all of you hustle hustle hustle!!" It's 11:20am and Somatin is making class C run laps around the gym in the blazing sun. I happen to be using the passive skill, Fluctuate Thermal, so I feel as cool as a kiwano. Or a cucumber.
Fluctuate Thermal:
Fluctuate Thermal is a skill that subtly alters one's external temperature depending on external factors. It is the passive upgrade of the skill Thermal Change. The skill in human ranking terms would be rank Advanced tier Upper, power level 28,500 P.
I've taken off the jacket to my tracksuit though, to make it look as if I'm uncomfortable.
After everyone ran ten laps we were supposed to take a five minute break, then begin the obstacle course that Somatin had set up inside. That was the whole reason for us doing our warm-ups outside. But our teacher is the peacock-pig Somatin, so I shouldn't be surprised. Instead…
"And there I was with my party. It had taken us one whole week to get to Mizer swamp in the Reigndom of Estanja, and everyone was exhausted. Not me though. As a rank 5 Gold adventurer, my stamina and strength were boundless. But our healer and archers weren't holding up too well. We had brought a cart, but it was busted and broken from the mud, and the horse who was pulling it was at its limit."
One awestruck kid looked up with bright bulging eyes and asked, "What did you do Coach? What did you do?"
"They put them all on it's shoulders and carried them two kilometers," I muttered under my breath.
"For hours I carried them all on my back and shoulders until we could find a cave to rest!"
The class oh'd and ah'd. My face was stone. Ridged! Unmoving! You've told this like five times this week you fucktard! Just start the damn obstacle course already!
"Oh, Amoretta. Tisk, tisk, tisk. If only you could skip past this scene like I can. Unfortunately you don't have…oh…I didn't…huuh… How!! Sorry. Why in shit did it switch to–"
Magic and Enchantments class is as awful as ever.
"Today you'll be learning the Beginner Middle tier spell, Water Bomb Blast," said a thin and boney old lady. Her light brown skin still holds hints of her former beauty. Her thin coily hair sits in a neat curly bun, and is unnaturally black from hair dye. Her voice…it's almost like a drill going through concrete: high pitched and nasally. Mojo would be an okay teacher if she didn't loath anyone of a lower class and status than herself. She is a Countess and a teacher, meaning she doesn't really respect or care for any students who don't puff up her own ego. Yet she'll always bow down to the hell spawn of Dukes and Duchesses.
"Understood, Mrs. Mojo," the class says in unison, like the trained little pups they are.
The Beginners Mid tier spell, Water Bomb Blast…
Water Bomb Blast:
Water Bomb Blast is a spell that creates a projectile of boiling water. In terms of human spell rankings, Water Bomb Blast is a rank Beginner tier Middle, power level 3,770 MP.
« Some useless shit, » I thought as I watched the rest of the class, save for three kids, pull out rings embedded with maguses (mana stones).
« Huuu… »
I look up at the ceiling, staring at nothingness as Mojo drones on about the spell. The spell rankings taught in a middle school are Beginner and Experienced. You learn at least ten different spells for each tier in a rank. The tiers are Low, Greater, Middle, Upper, and High. But unless you're A class, you're only learning Beginner rank shit. So classes E through B only learn spells between 600 MP to 5,000 MP. I'd thought all but E class would be learning Beginner and Experienced rank spells, given this is an acclaimed private middle school, but I guess there's red-tape hierarchy even amongst nobles. Or every class except A is too weak. Actually, it's probably the latter.
I quietly sigh, slowly lowering my head to face the board. Mojo had neatly written the chant for the spell in perfect professional cursive.
That's another thing, humans chant. I can't stand it! Now I'm rather indifferent to it all, but I still get an itch every now and then to spill how magic actually works.
No chants required, just feel it. Feel your mana flowing through your body. Think about what you want to happen, what you want it to do, and how. Just do it. It's like learning how to walk: you remember the initial feeling of the action and consciously think about it, consciously try to replicate it, till you eventually get the hang of it. Then you can go where you want whenever you want.
In a head to head battle of magic quickness and power are key. If you're missing one you're likely to be done in by the other spell caster. That's why chants are the most useless shit ever. Hand signs are better, I think as I remember my time in Fonishus Hisui. Less to memorize and more emphasis on feeling. I remember refining all of my elemental magic there. Here, the only elemental magic taught is water, fire, and rhet. "Advanced" elemental magic like air isn't taught till high school, and light and shadow magic apparently isn't taught till you're a fifth year in high school.
I quietly sigh again, my shoulders lifting slightly and my chest elegantly raising before both gradually sink back into their resting positions. « I need to practice my air. »
"Ok all," says Mojo, bringing my attention fully to her, "repeat after me."
« Let's see how long this shit lasts. »
"Oh water form a ball. Coalesce and boil, then bomb my target, blasting them and their defense. Water Bomb Blast!"
« Bitch that's seven seconds! »
Mojo smiled a very fake looking smile, but her eyes glimmered in approval. "Very good class C. Now, you have two minutes to memorize this, then we'll head to the testing field. I know you are all smart and bright young kids, but be patient. Some of you," she said, pointedly looking at me then three other students, "need the extra time."
The class snickers, but the usual slight sting and embarrassment I feel have gone on vacation together or something. Mojo is completely correct. I will now go through my daily tradition of silently flipping my shit over the length of this 3,770 MP spell.
« Why!? 3,770 MP for magic boiled water that can easily be dispelled? AHGG!! »
As I write down the chant for the spell in a little notebook, I weakly shake my head so the teacher won't notice. Mojo has surprisingly sharp eyes for someone so blinded by their own ego…
Finally, it is 4:20pm! I'm going home! Or, more accurately, I'm going to my current place of residence: El Paulo Belleza. My apartment is on the second floor, room 23. It's a little place that only costs me 670G (geras) a month! A fucking steal considering the complex owner's greed. The original rent was like 1,100G, and that didn't even cover wifi, sewage, and laundry! Man, I never knew that just living was expensive! One job just barely covers everything I need, and want, but then again I really should've stopped indulging in my hobby as often as I did. Only reason I even pay 670G is because of this guy named Mr. Cruz.
When I first moved here, and started attending classes at Monte Carlo Mid, I was unaware that you needed to pay rent to live in a space, and the sleazy owner kept his mouth shut about it too. Four months I lived in El Paulo Belleza without knowing. When Mr. Cruz came knocking on my door, he said that the owner said I owed him 10,400G in rent and 3,000G in harassment charges. The owner had "apparently" leased me his luxury apartment, so rent was 2,600G a month. And "apparently" I had harassed him into letting me pay late time and time again.
Luckily, Mr. Cruz wasn't an idiot. He knew right from the start that it was me who was being scammed. Firstly, it didn't make any sense for there to be a luxury apartment sandwiched between two regular rooms on the second floor of a three story complex. Secondly, it made no sense given the location. This area is a boondock, far removed from the grand cities of the region. It's near the southern border forest. The people out here can barely afford El Paulo Belleza's normal rent.
The open space and nearby forest are the only reasons I live out here. My parents chose right. Distance is no object for me anyway so I don't mind. But comfort is a priority. The apartment is small, much smaller than what I'm used to, so I made some changes. My parents left me 100,000G, so in the first two months I lived in El Paulo Belleza I spent 80,000G of it altering the space to my liking. I never expected renovating to be as fun as it was. It was intoxicatingly fun, and thanks to that, and my hobby, I'm practically broke now. 3,474G of it to my name.
Bam! Mr. Cruz to my rescue. Not only did he get the old sleazeball to lower rent, he also prevented the old man from charging for those first four months, taught me the basics of budgeting, taught me the basics of surviving as a student and an independent with little familial support, and helped me find a job that pays me 112G–I'll say it again–112G an hour! Thank you Initia Fons for–
\ Blink. \ "He's worshiped? Well that does make sense."
–giving me a much needed gift! It's still a wonder that the human helped me out in exchange for nothing. But he is a human commoner, so it makes sense to a degree. "Lower" solidarity and all that.
Also, Mr. Cruz told me that my parents had already paid the sleazeball a sum of money which he seemed to have cashed immediately. Mr. Cruz said that that was illegal and he could get in serious trouble for pocketing the combo of the lease and rent money. Can't say I hate Mr. Cruz's methods for getting me out of that situation. It made perfect sense. Violence is easily dissuaded with violence. There is no need to talk things out when you can simply choose aggression, it's not what human intelligence is for.
I unlock my front door and step into my apartment. Two claps and my gorgeous mana globes turn on. They're the premium, modern, and hella expensive floating lights I bought to add some much needed warmth to the place. The uneven globes provide a soft light that naturally changes it's hue and intensity depending on the amount of natural light in the room.
But the most expensive thing in my apartment just so happens to be my walls, second to that is my beautiful bathroom, and third to that are those lights. See, I forgot that the spell Quieto-Dome existed and spent about 35,000G to replace all of the cheap thin walls with Hushboard, the latest in sound proofing technology. Look, my neighbors kept having extremely noisy sex and I don't often use the spell Quieto-Dome. It's rare for me. There may have also been a cool-ass advertisement about it on TV…
After I close and lock the front door, I take off my sneakers and socks and put on house slippers. Craving fruit, I pass my poor excuse for a coat rack (three pegs nailed into the wall), turn left, and walk into my kitchen. Everything but the white quartz countertops and roundish white fridge is new. All the cabinets are now a polished dark brown un-laminated wood, and each shelf has something called an LED light under it. Some of the cabinets even have this nice frosted glass paneling. It's so pretty! The only thing I regret about the kitchen was adding the mini fridge. I stored like three bottles of alcohol in it and nothing else. Now I hardly drink, despite the fact that I'm now of Almabillux's legal drinking age. It's only good when you make it sweet, and its effects are weak. I'd rather drink juice.
Opening my regular sized fridge I pull out a carton of blueberries. Only second to strawberries. I should have gotten more, I think, looking at my near empty fridge. Oh well. I also grab five eggs, realizing that I'm craving a little more than just fruit.
Turning around to grab a pan, I am careful to look at the floor, then my lovely wooden cabinet containing my four pans and four pots. With a large sweeping step, my body pivotes to the area opposite of the ledge near the kitchen's entrance. Cranking up the stove's flame I ignore the box behind me that keeps demanding my attention. Grabbing a bowl, cracking the eggs, mixing, then salting, my eyes consciously avoid looking back. Scrambling my snack makes the cube fade into the back of my mind. It comes close to leaving my consciousness, but then the eggs are finished and I must rinse my blueberries. I turn towards the sink. My eyes find the faucet handle. My hand lifts and cool water runs. Sunlight turned blue warns my right eye. I pivot over my left shoulder then set the blueberries next to my scrambled eggs.
« TV time! « Taking a left footed step my body about-faces the kitchen exit. « Now I can watch that new– »
My eyes land on the semi desaturated, somewhat translucent, blue box.
"…Huh."
That blue cube contains an old foe who I consistently battle with: homework.
Monte Carlo Mid doesn't give out a lot of homework, everything is done in class usually. But if a teacher sees that the class is stuck on a particular subject they'll assign homework. Pity that regular homework is not what's in this pale blue cube.
Reaching inside I produce three pages of history homework. History is a course taken by second years. It's required in order to graduate and apparently can't be taken your third year. Looking down at the three pages I grimace. Front to back there's a question, or box, or other thing I need to fill out.
« Why the hell do I need to learn about the history of this country? » I irefully ponder.
But my mind automatically counters with Kuzumo's old saying, « Knowledge is a power in it's own right. »
"Huh…"
I walk into my living room and place the hellish pages on my coffee table. (Such a weird name for a type of table.) I grab my tv remote and turn to something uninteresting: The Four O'Clock News. I need something to distract me from the nightmare that is my history homework but that is not much of a distraction itself. Take the mind off of the misery for a couple minutes before diving right back in. That must be why the tv was invented; and the flat screen was invented to simulate cinemas.
Manipulating my mana like it's some kind of invisible hand, I carry my snack and a glass of water over to the coffee table.
« Oh, forgot. »
Abandoning my living room I return to the kitchen. From my self produced box of torment I extract three pencils and a giant book titled "General History of El Sur Magni and Allmabillux". Out of the three southern continents, El Sur Magni, as the name implies, is the largest. In Expanian, it essentially means The Large South, though Magni is just half of the Expainian word Magnitude. El Sur on the other hand means The South in this continent's ancient language. Not Almabillux's but all of El Sur Magni's, the book assures. It was a national language before national languages were even a thing!
Another interesting but random fact I learned from the book was that Almabillux's National Pied Day was created by King Luxgera's older brother, Krystolo, who loved food fights and making pies. National Pied Day is on his birthday, the 29th of month 12. It's a day dedicated to him and pie. It was a "fun fact" written in the margins of some chapter. For some reason it stuck with me.
About an hour later, my ears picked up the names Allexius Caldor Tri Reco ra Orberoro and Maria Romero, off of the TV. I look up, "…have defeated a terrifying rank Unus grade B3 barghest looking creature that was lurking near the town of Grunados." Quickly, I grab the remote off the sofa behind me and turn up the volume.
"The monster had devoured most of the creatures within the nearby forest and was going after humans. Other adventurers who had bravely faced the monster were likely eaten, their remains nowhere to be seen.
"The Duke of Golden Sun, the Platinum rank 4 adventurer Caldor Silvon, bravely faced down the beast. Duke Orberoro utilized a fantastic combo of holy magic and brilliant sword techniques, and his mistress, Lady Maria, supported him with Defense class and Buff class magic, allowing Duke Orberoro to deliver the final blow with his prowess, Rippling Roi. His blade vibrated at such incredible speeds the monster found itself powerless.
"Unfortunately, Duke Orberoro had declined any and all interviews after the fight, but from eyewitness accoun–"
I flip the channel. << What else did I expect, >> my conscious questions.
« Contemptuous ingrates. »
They didn't even mention Maria's adventurer name and rank, because that would be giving the Duchess Romero-Orberoro a level of esteem that would force them to put some respect on her name.
Is the fact that this common girl has achieved the same adventurer rank and double the notoriety of Allexius too much for their misbegotten minds to handle? Is the fact that their precious Duke of Golden Sun willingly married a commoner too much for them to accept!? Is that why they feel like they must resort to calling Maria his mistress!? To assure the public that a member of the royal family did not just marry a common girl!! Is that too much to acknowledge!?
« Foolish Lilliputian creatures. »
And I sit, simmering, staring blankly ahead. My cold eyes fill with frosty daggers, my slight smile promising agonizing retribution.
I reminisce about that day. The day in which I witnessed the capacity for human love surpass my expectations. I made Maria's dress myself. It was conservative while still showing off her curves. Ethereal, saintly. A simple A-line dress of princess panels, the boat neckline dipping into a slight V. Flowing translucent asymmetric cloak sleeves stopped just before the hem of the gown. Lacy patterns of vines and suns decorated the bodice and faded into the sleeves and skirt. The dress was done almost entirely in a lilac chiffon with a cream colored taffeta as under layer. Maria was stunning.
A girl named Misty styled Maria's long wavy brown hair, wrapping pale moss green ribbons throughout. A girl named Veradeen found and fixed the couple an intricate metal altar. A boy named Manuel decorated it with white and blue roses, also procuring Maria a bouquet of violet Puea Draconis. A boy named Rock prepared a fully stocked buffet, and a boy named Carlos found Allexius a pristine white suite.
My own parents, as rulers of the Southern Dominion, bore witness to their matrimony, and I officiated it. I bound and blessed Maria and Allexius by magical contract, like I had done so many times in Fonsiphus Hisui. They were now forever bound in such a way that it's validity could never be questioned.
And when the new couple looked into each other's eyes like there was no one else, nothing but the other person, I saw a caring that encompassed the world. When they held hands, I saw a love that burned brighter than a newly formed star. When they embraced, I felt hope stir. When they kissed, I found myself truly thinking, truly believing, that human humaneness was real.
Eight humans came together to participate in a human ceremony of love. It was the day my faith bloomed, only to be squashed the first day I attended Monte Carlo Mid.
« I wonder when I'll see them again? Perhaps I could visit Allexius and Maria, check up on how they're doing. Clearly they've been keeping up with their training. No doubt that Misty has. »
I smile, « She'd grill them if they weren't. Grill everyone. Wonder how Rock even handles that constant blaze of determination. Manuel never could, and neither could Carlos. They'd both prefer to sit and watch, absorbing every bit of magic and combat knowledge that way. Not that that didn't work for them. »
I chuckle, « Even Veradeen and her cool-headed ways couldn't calm Misty down. » I chuckle again, feeling sunnier.
« But they're all stronger for it, especially Manuel. Misty's who inspired everyone to, "Push past their limits." I wanna know where she got that saying, » I think, happily smiling.
I love my friends, my students. They're the only humans I've truly enjoyed being around. They're my older younger siblings, and I'm their big little sister.