Day one of the Prep Event sucked ass for me. All us third years were crammed into the–what I thought was spacious–auditorium, just to sit and take notes on presenters' presentations for two fucking hours and fifteen minutes!! 2pm to 4:15pm! They fucking cut out ten minutes of my lunch time! And, oh boy, tomorrow they'll be cutting out an hour! I almost went, Fuck this shit I'm out (No thanks), I'll just take my ass and sit it else where. But I could hear my fathers voice in my head. He suggested that I sit and listen. He reasoned that some useful information may come along.
Well, I don't know if it's because my attention span went on break or something, but no useful information ever came! I didn't hear nor see any! I sat till my ass went numb in a, quite comfortable at first, cushioned auditorium seat, listening to boring humans talk about shit in the most unenthusiastic dry voices! Not one of these presenters sounded excited or happy to be there in any way. Some were better at pretending like they actually gave a crap, but the others just did not care.
Seriously, for thirty minutes, one dude droned on about what amenities LAMS had to offer us as students with the most zombified…everything! His eyes, his face, his posture, his tone of voice, even his outfit! I distinctly remember thinking, « Show up or show out! How you present is how you are perceived, ya damn zombie! »
The only thing I learned from that presenter for those thirty minute is that LAMS is big and that amenities means desired features in a space.
Friday is the fun stuff…hopefully. Today, each class gets to meet one on one with the Royal Guard. The first class to go was A class at 9:25am. They likely reached the school's Coliseo, where the Royal Guard will be waiting, around 9:30am. Each class will spend an hour doing something with the Royal Guard, before returning to their regularly scheduled program.
All of yesterday a little ball of excitement had been forming in my gut, but now it's spreading through my whole body. I really don't know why. I can't explain why. Maybe it's because I'll be one step closer to reaching LAMS? Maybe it's because I'm moments closer to returning home? Either way, it turns Mr. Tally's class into this daunting, arduous thing. I can't think. I can't focus. It's only been ten minutes since class began, but it feels like I've been sitting in this damn seat for thirty minutes!
I'm tapping the eraser of my pencil against my desk, thanking Initia Fons I'm in the back row. I can let my mind wander a bit.
Wander… Wander… Wander…
« Why do the seconds feel like minutes? Time is just crawling by ain't it. Wait! Did someone slow down– no, I don't have the ability. »
My right leg beggins to bounce.
« Everything is so… Ok look at the board and write. Just focus on that. Yeah, pay attention stupid. This is…what is this? Why is there an upside-down– opp! And it just turned into a very steep roller-coaster! …Quadratics. So the line shifts by manipulating that formula. Without the exponent– I should be writing this down. »
I look up, then back down, and take notes. That leg starts to bounce a little faster.
Looking up, looking back down, and writing. Leg bounces faster.
Looking up, looking back down, and writing. Leg bounces faster.
Looking up, looking back down, and writing. Leg bounces faster.
Looking up, looking back down, and writing. Leg bounces faster.
« Why hasn't Mr. Tally called me to the board yet? Has he finally given up? Has he finally let things– »
"Achoo!"
We all look towards the sneezer until Mr. Tall draws our attention back to himself with a loud sigh. Then he exaggeratedly crosses himself before saying, "Primos bless your soul and fortify your immune system."
It gets a giggle out of me and the class, which somehow simultaneously puts my leg to bed.
« When did I…? »
I think I'll take a little me time. I've all but refused to look at the room's wall clock, not wanting to stir myself up even more, but that's only piling onto my anxiousness.
« Okay, okay, okay. Breath in, one, breath out, two…three…four…five…si– this isn't helping… Calm down and clear your mind Amoretta… Clear… Mind… Breath… Push out worry… Wow, I never noticed how monotonous Mr. Tally's voice is. It's kinda like the calming tones of Kuzumo's meditation music… Yeah, that's it… Calm… down… »
The entire time I was gathering myself I kept my eyes open, fixing them to Mr. Tally's form. It would have been disrespectful to not at least look like I'm paying attention. So as Mr. Tally finishes up the example equation on the Techniboard and walks over to his desk, my eyes robotically follow. Mr. Tally bends down and picks up a stack of papers, likely practice sheets. Then he straightens up. My eyes robotically follow. But as Mr. Tally walks to the right, towards the Techniboard, my eyes, robotically, continue to climb upward.
See, whenever Mr. Tally goes to his desk–which isn't often–I check the time on the wall clock. It's a habit of mine, so all too late I realize what my subconscious mind is doing.
The clock's face takes up my field of view and it's hands grab my attention with so much force that I physically flinch. Lucky me no one else seemed to notice. The clock's attacks are powerful indeed, and the time it's hands tell is a shock to my senses. I grit my teeth and tear my eyes away. For good measure, I also turn my body fully towards the front wall as I was slightly tilted to the left, towards the clock with it's menacing time telling hands.
Slowly, I breathe in. « It's only 10:19!! FUCK!! »
AHHH! I fucking wish Kuzumo had taught me how to astral project! It's not just mind bulshit, it has a use, I'll admit it! I don't want to be in time-hell any more!
« Ninety-six more minutes, just ninety-six more minutes. Come on brain, you just gotta focus for ninety-six. More. Minutes! »
Fifty-five minutes later and I'm still wondering why time is just deciding to move like mass-produced pancake syrup. And it's not just me. Somatin, pigcock that it is, even noticed how kids kept looking at their phones, so they changed their lesson plan from more of my supposed humiliation to free time.
I'm in a line watching students spar against Cuanto, when I suddenly sense a familiar presence radiating out from the direction of the Coliseo. It was as menacing as it was short. The aura was so bubbly yet sinister. It looked like sparkly bubbles made of blood to my mind's eye, smiling, mocking faces reflected in them. I can't help but grin.
I activate the skill, Thought Communication.
Thought Communication:
Thought Communication is a–
"You know, I think I'll turn off this function for some of them."
« "Yo, Misty! You at Monte Carlo?" »
A cheerful yet sly voice answers me back, « "Hey T! You at Monte Carlo!?" »
Never have I ever wanted to fist pump the air, but it takes all I have not to do that very action at this moment.
« "Yeah. Is Rock with you?" » I ask. Quickly expanding the range of a passive sensory type skill, I find my answer before she can give it to me.
« "Mmhmm," » she responds, « "How've you been? Actually, how are you doing?" »
I snicker to myself as I step out of the line. « "I've been doing ok," » I say as I start towards the edge of the gym. « "Obviously I could be better but…" »
« "Yeah, I understand. What class are you in?" »
« "I'm in class C." »
« "Oh." » After a couple seconds she adds, « "Did I ever tell you that Rock and I joined the Royal Guard?" »
I smack my forehead. That's why they're here! I think. I register the odd looks from the people around me before replying, "No, you never told me."
« "Do you even know what the Royal Guard is?" » Misty asks, snickering.
I smile a bit and roll my eyes. « "Maybe… But even if I didn't, you'd be explaining that to the class later anyway, right? I'm more interested in learning exactly what we'll be doing once we get to the Coliseo." »
« "Well…" » I can practically see her lips curl into a smirk, « "I'll be explaining that to your class later anyway!" »
« "Ugh, you're insufferable." »
« "And you're adorable! I will tell you that Fenrir is going to be making an appearance," » she warns. « "Don't worry, I'll let him know you're here." »
« "Thanks." »
« "Well, gotta go," » Misty says with a sigh, « "a kid's having some problems." »
I can relate to her irritable tone at the end there. That's how I feel practically everyday at this damn school. I feel it even now, but I can't suppress my growing giddiness. Can't get rid of my slight smile and the happy glint in my eyes. Misty, Rock…
Finally! It's 11:55am, meaning C class is now on it's way to the Coliseo. I'm jumping for joy internally, but the reason as to why has changed. I get to see my friends for a while. I get to possibly hang out with them for a time! But my thoughts are anything but friend filled.
« If Fenrir is going to be making an appearance then does this have something to do with learning to fight monsters? Is part of the LAMS entrance test going to include fighting monsters? And who is that third person with them? Why have they expanded their aura? Are they stupid or a pride filled– wait same thing. »
Our class exists through a door that leads straight to the outside. We are now face to face with the giant imposing visage of the Coliseo. It's breathtaking. As I'm taking it all in, walking ever closer, Rock calls me. « "Hey T, been a while." »
« "Yeah," » I replied, « "It has. Surprised you joined the Royal Guard. Changed classes?" »
« "Nope. I'm still an assassin." »
There's a long pause as I wait for him to add to his sentence.
« "See ya T." » Rock leaves the call.
Nostalgia smirks for me. For a singular second, my eyes no longer read unapproachable and they become sociable.
« The same as ever, a man of few words. »
I still find it hard to believe that Misty willingly partners with him, but the two do make an excellent team. Rock never really says much but whenever he's with Misty he seems to relax more. He seems to become happier around her (though it can be hard to tell), and Misty can practically read his mind. I guess that's the kind of bond formed from being childhood friends.
As we walk into the Coliseo we are ushered into five columns by Mojo, our chaperone for this little "field-trip". The guards wait patiently on the first step of the Coliseo and watch us, "Straighten up," as Mojo puts it. She fiercely whispers this to us while arranging these columns. Her eyes keep warily glancing back at the Royal Guards as she tries to organize these columns neatly, but quickly, while displaying both kindness and assertiveness. I think. To me, it just looks like she's trying to impress the old looking guy from the Royal Guard, the one who won't conceal his aura.
« Ah, you do look like the type, » I think, eyes sweeping over his embellished set of silver full-plate armor and long flowing white cape. The man looks like the very picture of a gentleman. The fairy tale knight if you will; but he's got a couple years on him. His short slicked back hair has streaks of silver, and his pale face is starting to show signs of age. His cheeks are handsomely gaunt, and his eyes are an arrogant shade of green. He definitely was, and still is, an overachiever. An annoyingly model student.
« "You should introduce my teacher to your friend there," » I joke to Misty and Rock. I get a visible smirk out of both of them.
The cute girl on the old man's left is Misty. Her curly chin length strawberry blond hair, big bright green eyes, and warm features make her look like an idol. Her looks are practically the definition of cute. Today she wore a fancy white scoop neck blouse that is just slightly cropped, exposing part of her belly button. The top has small fancy frills at the end of it's cutely puffed sleeves and hemline. Pretty blue rose earrings adorn her earlobes, the right rose having two small silver-link chains connecting to a plain silver ball in her upper ear.
But, compared to the top half, the bottom half of her outfit seems out of place. She wears traditional mens black combat boots. Her cargo pants are just a bit too baggy, and their black and pastel pink, blue, and green camo pattern is strangely edgy for someone so cute.
The guy to the old man's right is Johnathan, but my friends and I call him Rock. His outfit is similar to Misty's, just all dark brown, blue, and black. Same slightly too baggy cargo pants, with a camo pattern made of a midnight blue and a dark chocolate brown. Same traditional mens black combat boots. His plain black long sleeve shirt has a missing sleeve. I mean it's just gone, like the right sleeve never existed in the first place. And instead of a black leather mask, Rock now wears a fingerless black leather glove on his left hand. His straight dark blue hair is parted down the middle, just touching his eyes and exposing his undercut. His brown eyes and sharp face are as expressionless and intimidating as ever.
Once we are organized to Mojo's satisfaction, the old looking guy speaks. "Hello and good afternoon to all of you. My name is Rodrick Enz Vissel Wandera Caballero. But you may call me Sir Rodrick. My companions and I are part of the elite division within the Royal Guard, known as the Vis Elision, and we answer directly to her majesty the Queen." Class C oohs and aahs.
Sir Rodrick then explains that, currently, the Royal Guard is made up of thirty-two individuals who have all pledged their loyalty to the queen, not the crown. They were formed by the queen, and some were even tested by her. The organization consists mainly of formerly Platinum and high ranking Diamond adventurers. The Vis Elision are all Platinum rank. The Vis Elision also has guard rankings, Number One being the top. Lastly, all members of the Vis Elision have power levels of at least 45,000 P, compared to the regular Royal Guard's minimum of 40,000 P.
And I believe it, as Sir Rodricks aura is all over the Coliseo, practically engulfing the whole space. Only someone who's close to level 5 could expand their aura to this size and maintain it. Though I have to wonder why he's expanding his aura to this size? Unless you're over level 10, the natural width of one's aura is at max fifty centimeters. To keep it expanded to a diameter of close to a hundred and ten meters… For what reason? It's quite thin where us students are, and it's not expressing anything. Not even pure power.
"Now," says Sir Rodrick, "as I'm sure you're all curious as to what we'll be teaching you, I'll dispense with any more explanations. After my colleagues briefly introduce themselves, they will tell you our purpose in coming here today."
Misty and Rock step forward. "Hello, I am Misty Prosa Vinca Lee Ressodio fu Salvaje," Misty says, voice sickly sweet. It's as unnerving as she probably intended it to be, as I can sense an air of unease spring up from my classmates. It totally overtakes the dazzled one from when Sir Rodrick was speaking.
"And I'm Jonathan Cedro Piedra Ressa za Guerrero." He stares blankly into the crowd, unsettling the class even more. Some begin to shift their weight between their legs. Some wriggle fingers. The guy in front of me is rapidly tapping his index finger against his thigh.
"Just last year," Misty continued, "Jonathan and I joined the Royal Guard. After two months of service, we were able to test our skills against the Queen–"
The class gasps.
"–and join the Vis Elision."
Sir Rodrick proudly nods his head, a proud smile displayed on his lips.
"We've completed countless missions," adds Rock, "and faced countless dangers. From these experiences, a lesson was drilled into our heads."
"Partnership, teamwork, relying on your comrades, is what keeps you alive," Misty states.
« Did they script this? » Misty looks too serious, and it too perfectly contrasts with her overly cutesy voice.
But the class is stunned. They now all have looks of deep reverence plastered on their faces.
Suddenly, Misty poses. Her left arm extends down and out, while her right bends inward to let her hand carefully rest on her chest, fingers elegantly posed. Her legs are slightly asymmetrical in stance, right foot ahead of the left. "All that to say…"
The crowd holds their breath.
Misty's lips quiver. The corners of her mouth slowly start to turn upwards.
« Aaaand she's losing it… »
"Aha… Ehe! …Ahahahaha! BWAAHAHAHA!"
Class C stares at Misty like she's fucking insane, and the nervous air from before returns. Sir Rodrick looks disappointed. All the pride he displayed, deflated. I have to empathize with the man as Misty continues to maniacally laugh.
« Yeah, that's Misty. No curbing her, so just stop expecting her to change. »
Almost thirty seconds later, Misty's laughter starts to die down. She just stares at the class's confused little faces. Her wide manic smile exposes her teeth, which have a dangerous glint to them. It's like she could lean forward and swallow us whole if she wanted to, putting me in the mind of a giant gulper hungrily staring down it's prey. But that's Misty. She's a newly realized predator and not the unsure prey that always displayed a false confidence.
"Ah…sorry, excuse me," Misty says, pretending to wipe a tear from her eye. Her voice is now normal, and a cool smile replaces her manic one. "I just couldn't hold it in ya know? Bits like that are hard to maintain."
The class drunkenly nod their heads.
"All right then you little brats," Misty yells, "do you wanna know why we're here?"
Silence…
Everyone, even the birds, know that Misty is expecting some meek little, Yeah, from the class, but we all continue to be silently caught up in the fact that she just called us brats. Even I'm kind of stunned by it, and the call-out isn't even directed at me. I assumed that, since this is a work trip, Misty would tone herself down… What am I saying. It's Misty.
After a long stretch of awkward silence Rock turns toward the lady of the minute. "Tell 'em already."
"Aaah, yeah. Okay. Johnathan, Rodrick, and I are here today for one thing."
« Damn, throwing on the demon face. She's even pausing! What in the hell's got her so– »
"To help you summon and form contracts with familiars."
« WHAT!! »
We're all stunned. Shocked. Flabbergasted! But class C–oh class C looks smitten. They're ecstatic, riding that high horse of elation. Their exhilaration just flowing off them like waves.
And then you have us: Rock, Misty and I. We do not share in their sentiments. We are pissed, we are annoyed, and we are UNAMUSED!
Instantaneously, I activate Thought Communication. « "Familiars?… Really? I just need to understand. You're giving these hell spawn, familiars?" »
« "Yeah," » Misty sighs, « "that's what we were called here to do." »
« "More like forced to," » says Rock.
I'm rubbing my temples. « "Noooooo. Who– who sanctioned this?" » I ask no one in particular. « "Why these kids? What for?" »
« "Likely LAMS's Familiar Entrance test," » answers Rock. « "Kids with familiars are about 80% more likely to get accepted than a familiarless applicant, even if they do horribly at everything else." »
I never expected to get an answer, especially not one so comprehensive. It shuts me into silence as I slowly compartmentalize the information Rock had just presented me with.
"Isn't that exciting news?" Rodrick exclaims, suddenly striding towards the class. But he doesn't get too close. He's no more than nine meters away from us at the very least, but the air starts to feel a bit thicker.
My friends and I end our call.
"Now I would ask you all to stand back. Misty!" Rodrick turns toward her. He then makes several quick gestures as if to say, Get your ass down here now!
As Misty casually jumps off the step of the Coliseo and makes her way over to Rodrick, Mojo follows his directions.
"Students!" she yells as she gestures toward herself. "Students! Single file!" It's like she's a marshaller from Oba-Rin Airlines. As we walk towards her–single file–I can hear the beep beep beep of a truck backing up. I don't know why. Marshallers don't carry alarms, nor do planes have any just for backing up. I think…
Once we're all about two or three meters back, Misty and Rodrick hold out their hands. "From the Reverse to the origin, I summon thee. My demon, my comrade, my partner, I call on you. Travers from plane to point S. Find my signature and appear before me…"
"Python," yells Rodrick.
"Fenrir," yells Misty.
Two sizable magic circles form on the dirt floor of the Coliseo, one in front of Rodrick and the other in front of Misty.
"OOOOOOH WOOOW!!!" The collective gasp from the class becomes part of the performance. It's the perfect sound effect to overlay the summonings' magnificent light show. Then it stops. From a cloud of smoke, a sky blue two meter long snake emerges. It has a beautiful large white and navy blue diamond pattern down the length of its back to the tip of it's tail. And in a flash of light, a large dark gray and white wolf appears, strong off-white tusks peeking out from the corners of its mouth.
The wolf's piercing electric blue eyes instantly find, and lock onto, my apathetic golden hazel ones. « Calm down, » I think as Fenrir's tail beggins to wag with excitement. Then another set of eyes are upon mine. They're just as fierce, if not even more so than Fenrir's, and they're smiling. I see that they're green with glee and filled with promise before they turn to Fenrir.
Misty strokes Fenrir's neck, almost as if to say, Soon… Soon… instead of, Calm down, and all his attention turns toward her.
« Well, if anyone noticed that they'll likely chalk it up to supreme lower status detecting senses. Hopefully. »
But the look in both Fenrir's and Misty's eyes was unmistakable. I bet even these humans could sense the Boxer's Lust. Those two are practically one in the same. Both of them want to fight me, but for two distinct reasons: Misty, to see how much she's grown and how well her style of combat works on a stronger opponent, and Fenrir to get hurt.
I internally sigh. « Fine. Some day. Over fall break maybe. »
Then Rodrick speaks. "Having a familiar is seen as a right of passage for those who have proven their worth and talents like this year's crop of students. They can be a powerful ally when you are in a bind, as well as a friend. Once you sign a contract, you are bound till death do you part. You may even become linked, so as one grows stronger, some of that strength is passed on to the other."
He clears his throat. There's silence. Rodrick clears his throat again, a little more urgently this time.
"Oh! My turn?" asks Misty.
"Mmhmm!" There's an exasperated inflection to Rodricks response.
Looks like this was also scripted.
Misty looks like she'd rather be anywhere else as she speaks. It reminds me of the presenters from yesterday. But I couldn't hear a word. Before she even began her first sentence, I was telepathically contacted by Rodrick's familiar, Python.
« "So you're the Master. I assume you can understand me then, yes?" »
\ Blink. \ « "Yeah." »
« "Enchanting." » I feel the snake breathe a sigh of relief. « "It is a mercy to see that not all humans are incapable of learning." »
I nod. Her voice sounds almost like some sort of magical river, it's water's flowing but the surface remains a perfect unmarred mirror. It's, "Enchanting."
« "My name is Python. I have heard many stories from Master Fenrir about you. Particularly the ones in which you, '…beat [him] like a rag doll. Glorious!'" »
I cringe. The giant, terrifying, and highly masochistic Fenrir: Guardian of Wolves, Guider of Souls, and Wielder of Hel's Flame. It's said that the woman who brought Fenrir into existence, Hel, was the first to ever discover how to artificially create a familiar. Her flame magic was said to be the most beautiful thing in the world, capable of reviving the dead and creating flourishing landscapes. Hel's flames could always choose what to burn. A godly gift indeed.
I slightly tilt my head to the left. « "Yeah… My name's Amoretta, nice to meet you." »
« "Likewise." »
« "So why did you want to talk to me?" »
Python makes a coil, then rests her head on her body. « "I just wanted to meet you, 'tis all. I also wanted to properly introduce myself to one a Master considers a Master. Now I would like it if you were to assess our skills, Rodrick's and mine that is. Would that be alright?" »
« "Yeah sure." »
« "Enchanting." »
Rock is now passing out slips of paper to the students at the front of a column. Those students then pass the papers back, unless the person behind them is a "lower", then they rip the paper into tiny pieces before throwing it to them. How do I know this? My scraps were strewn at my feet by the kid in front of me. Unceremoniously, I may add. Well, I am the last person in my line so…
I don't think that those other three kids got their papers torn, but I definitely don't doubt that they got messed with in other ways. Creatures can get quite creative when they want to be mean.
Speak of the devil, the mean spirited old creature named Mojo seems to be talking smack about me to Rodrick and Misty. Surprising that she's no less than two meters from the imposing "Sir" Rodrick, though the longer she stands next to him the more she starts looking like a withered old tree.
The "Knight", the Sadist, and the tree glance at me every now and then while Rock continues to pass out slips of paper. They kind of look like gossip girls. Noticing the striking similarity sends a small sting surging through my chest, but I push it down with memories of the past. Specifically memories from the first time I ever summoned a familiar. I turn my mind back to little ten or eleven year old me, living in Upper Snows, the large icy North continent. Following the Southern Dominion's ancient tradition, I spent that year studying element based magics and refining my combat skills and not bounding myself in jackets and blankets till I looked like a puff with an extra, tiny, head. I was preparing to take my current job. The next location, thankfully, was the warmer nation of Fonsiphus Hisui. I couldn't wait!
Fuck it was cold! I even shiver a bit remembering how my North Master would douse my layers in cold water, forcing me to learn the active skill Thermal Change, which later upgraded into the passive skill, Fluctuate Thermal. That North Master's name was Zappedore, and he taught me many things. One of those things being how to summon a familiar.
"Familiars are powerful, and not your regular animal companion, or pet," he said in his regular cheery voice. "They are not some tool that you can just summon to do your job. It is a partnership. But as the Master, you'll be the one calling the shots. That doesn't mean that a familiar will blindly follow you though. They can screw you over almost as much as you can screw them, so they're not for the unlearned. Only people who have been deemed worthy, or ready, by their Master should gain a familiar. Ok now, let's get to summoning!"
Though it's a distant memory, I can practically see his chubby ghostly white face gleefully grinning, rosy pink spots on his cheeks given to him from the cold. His shaggy pale blond–almost white–hair whipping in the wind. He was a good master, and a fun one. Most of the time anyways.
Master Zappedor also went through a brief lesson called "The Stupidity of Relokwish." That's what he actually titled the lesson. No joke. It covered basic knowledge on the communications of magical creatures as well as a brief overview on related distinctions between Mana-Born and Mana-Generators. Magical creatures, like familiars, are Mana-Born and need mana to live. Humans on the other hand are Mana-Generators, and generate mana over time, not depending on it to live.
Almost all Mana-Born speak what Mana-Generators think is gibberish, so humans dubbed it Relokwish. But that's not true. Mana-Born just communicate aloud on a different phonetic layer that's encoded with magic. It only sounds like gibberish until you pick out this high pitched buzz hidden in the background. Once you do that, for some reason, you're just able to understand all Mana-Born creatures. Communicating with them is a little more difficult though.
"All right, does everyone have a charm?" Rodrick yells.
A unified, "Yeeesss," from the class is broken by my, "Nooo."
Rodrick's head snaps in my general direction. "Who said no?" he yells.
As I raise a hand, the guy in front of me pretends to trip and knocks both of us over.
"Ow! Oh, sorry!" Tenzo says with fake sympathy as he gradually stands. His eyes are sooo fierce, clearly intending to batter me with intimidation till I give up on getting a paper. They read, You better not say anything. Or else…
I am unaffected by his so called, "intimidation", so, with my eyes, I tell him, Fuck off.
Before I even finish standing up, I yell, "Me!" and Rodrick immediately begins walking toward us. His white cape flaps and flows beautifully as he strides, allowing its luxurious silver detailing to casually wink at us. Rodrick's aura never shifts, so Tenzo and C class feel it's important and prideful burn as he gets closer. The thin, almost non-existent, aura turns thick, probably pinning down class C. A strong expression of intimidation is, the final cherry on top of the cake? (You humans and your expressions.) I bet it makes the air feel quite heavy.
His aura does feel a bit weird, a bit different, upon closer inspection, but I don't focus on that. Why would I when Tenzo's beautifully frightened face is right in front of me. Out of everyone in class C, this brat deserves, as Varadeen would say, all the smoke, and I have a premium ticket to the show!
"What happened?" Rodrick asks. He's just about a meter away from us. I almost forget to answer I'm so focused on Tenzo's face! Hoho… I'm even battling my own face for control of my own mouth I'm… Hoooooo, I need some popcorn this show makin' me hungry! If I had a phone… Damn, if I had a PHONE!
But I don't revel in the delight of Tenzo's fright for too long. I need to maintain my character, so in this gray casual manner I say, "My charm was torn before I could get it. See."
Rodrick looks somewhat surprised as he takes in the circle of papery snow on dirt. "Yes, I see."
Then he looks back up at me, and stares. There's a curious glint in his eyes. It's like…horrified? Afraid of something?… Eerie wonder, partly. Almost like Mr. Tally.
"…What the hell is going on? Are y'all– no, you're probably just as lost in the dark as I am. Duded does look kinda creepy, staring at Amoretta's or T's, no I'll call her A– at A's eyes. Is he now seeing that whatever Mojo said was wrong or something, or he is just notic– or is he just noticing something about her face? Mojo did spew a lot of crap, though I wasn't paying too much attention. Hmm, what do y'all think? Let me know when you got something wait nevermind. One way communication and uh, that."
"I'll get you another charm immediately," Rodrick says, and he heads towards Rock who is a little over twelve meters away from the class.
As soon as Rodrick reaches Rock, and begins to say something I can't hear, class C loses their tension. Like puppets whose strings have been cut, they go limp. I personally stayed for the show's end credits and was promptly rewarded with seeing puppet Tenzo shiver then try to act like he didn't just shit himself in terror. Tenzo's like a 6,800 P, one of the stronger members of C class, but that pales in comparison to Rodrick's level.
"Listen," yells Rodrick, startling me, "the bullying of other students is something I will not tolerate. Anyone who continues to do so will answer to me."
« …Okay? You wanna cookie? »
Rodrick then locks eyes with me. A strong dead-lock, out of place in my opinion. Like, what did I do to him? But as he walks his aura does the strangest thing. It sputters, shrinks, then expands over and over. But Rodrick still is dead-locking me, and I see no indication that he's doing whatever he's doing on purpose.
By the time he gets back to me his aura is no more than thirty centimeters in width, likely it's normal state of being.
"Here you go," he says, handing me a slip of paper with several symbols on it.
"Thanks."
Rodrick nods once, then walks back, aura blank.
This little interaction brings Python's request back to the forefront of my mind. Rodrick is definitely at level 5, power level 50,000 P, and likely has access to even more power via a contract with a spirit or something, which would explain the whole aura glitch thing. But if that's the case, Python must either be five levels or more above Rodrick or have an insanely powerful or useful prowess. Why else would he work with her when he, again, likely has a contract with a spirit, a being of iron will and pure mana? So even when they demonstrate their power, they won't rea–
"Now," yells Rodrick, breaking my train of thought. Again. "A quick demonstration before you all get to try your hand at summoning your own familiars."
Oh wow! Exactly what I wanted to see.
Python, who'd been resting in a little coil, starts slithering towards Rodrick. "Python's ability is based on illusions. He can form his body into anything I require. For example, Python, please form a sniper."
<< He? >> I think as Python slithers into a tight U shape and suddenly morphs into a meter long sniper with an intimidating looking barrel.
"Woooow!" the class exclaims in unison. I'm quite impressed as well. The amount of detail is out of this world, but my mind is still mainly focused on the fact that Rodrick called Python a he instead of a she or a they. I make a mental note of it, resolving to ask Python about it later. Though it can come after we talk about her demonstration.
"The land is an artist's canvas, the rhet their paint. To be molded, to be formed by saintly hands. To recreate the gods' creations. Model Terra!" Four human-like dummies made of rhet spring up directly after Rodrick finishes chanting. "Model Terra is an Advanced Upper tier spell. It allows one to mold rhet into countless forms, and to manipulate it as they please."
Another shout goes up from the class as Rodrick walks towards us, Python in tow. "Rhet, to sediment, to stone, to gravel. Formations." Four small grainy looking pebbles form in his hand, which he shows to everyone. Afterwards, he asks, "Now, can anyone tell me the rank and tier of Formations?"
Everyone tries to hastily recall Formations's rank and tier, while I try to guess who will remember first. (Why should I bother with trying to remember some stupid spell I'll never use.) I scan the faces of C class. Their determination is quite the show. Some people have even adopted cool anime looking poses. Other's make weird faces.
« Her, » I think as I catch the slight movements of a girl who's straight auburn hair is braided into two giant cornrows.
But I am proven wrong when a girl with ombré'd blond hair shouts, "I know!" She raised her hand into the air with such conviction that it looked like her arm was about to pop off.
Rodrick turns towards her. "What is your name?"
"Chrysantha! Sir!"
I raise an eyebrow. Why the, "Sir!" ?
"Lady Chrysantha, what is your answer?"
"Formations is a Low Beginner ranked spell, with a cost of 700 MP, Sir!"
Is she military?
"Correct!" says Rodrick. Then he picks Python off the ground and walks a little ways away from us. "Python is not an actual sniper, so he doesn't have actual bullets, but he can essentially emulate a sniper to the point where I can put bullet-like objects into his barrel, and fire them like I would with a real sniper."
Then Rodrick stuffs one of the pebbles down the sniper's barrel. "Python and I then work together to fire the bullets at our enemy, or enemies. Attaching a bit of my mana to the projectile reinforces the weak spell in addition to acting like something called gunpowder and another thing called primer. Around the age of our first King, Sun Lanzane Chrysoros ne Luxgera, the combustible substance known as gunpowder was loaded into bullets. About three-thousand years ago, we started replacing gunpowder with our own mana, following the design of a Bayonet…"
Bayonet…
"… Primer is the substance on the end of a bullet that ignites the gunpowder, creating tremendous force and noise. Python acts as what's called the firing pin, hitting the projectile within his barrel with such speed that it causes the primer to explode. That is what allows a little pebble like this," rodrick holds up a pebble, "to travel at around one-thousand-six-hundred-forty meters per second."
« That's faster than I am! » I think as the class oohs.
"But today," Rodrick continues, "We'll only be sending one at about half that speed."
He raises the gun till one of his eyes aligns with the scope. His right hand guides Python till the barrel looks to be aimed at one of the rhet dummies. His left hand pulls the trigger and all of the sudden there's a hole in the dummy's forehead.
The thing that surprised me the most was that it was completely silent. I heard nothing, and my eyes could barely keep up with the thing. Dangerous, was the only word that came to mind as my eyes narrowed on Rodrick.
« Rodrick…Enz Vissel Wandera Caballero, I think? I'll remember that. And you too, Python. »
Rodrick loads another pebble into the barrel and fires at another dummy. Then the other one. Then the other one. Every shot is an insta-kill–a master assassin. All the projectiles either hit their marks dead center or just slightly off.
« Just how much power is he outputting per projectile though? » I wonder. The thought comes too late though. Sir Rodrick has finished his demonstration and we are all clapping. But even if it was still going on I still wouldn't check. Checking would expose one of my prowess. Not an option. I could ask Python, but they may not give me an answer, or at least an answer I can trust. Sir Rodrick's prowess could also be formidable, or it could be garbage. That could be why he has a familiar, and a possible contract with a spirit. He could be trouble, but it's not like I haven't put trouble two meters under before. I have my training, my weapons, and my abilities to fall back on.
He can remain as long as he doesn't set his sights on mother's subjects.
Fenrir demonstrated after Python. First was his prowess, Cheirago's Voice. It allows him to manipulate his voice in any way he wants, which includes speaking in any language. So Fenrir, unlike most familiars, can communicate with any and all beings telepathically or out loud. I remember that Master Zappedore said Cheirago's Voice was given to Fenrir so that he may help communicate with and guide souls to Hel's domain, where Hel then provided them a place to live until they passed on. Cheirago's Voice was also said to have been a gift from Hel's lover, an elf. Before he died, he used a spell to transfer his prowess to her. Hel felt as if she didn't deserve the ability, which is why, once she created Fenrir, she gave it to him.
For Fenrir's demonstration of his prowess, he just talked to the class, answered questions, and manipulated his voice whenever someone asked him to. Even though the demonstration was far less showy than Sir Rodrick's and Python's, it was still just as cool to class C.
Next, Fenrir demonstrated his given ability of flame control. When Hel created Fenrir she took a part of herself, a wolf corpse, and some other things I can't remember to form his body, which imbued him with part of her ability, the prowess Denigrata Solis, which, according to human adventurer rankings, is a Divine class ability.
C class was told to stay still and not to panic, before Fenrir encased us in a wall of black flames. The flames weren't hot to the touch, but comforting. It was a soothing heat. So, after a short lived panic, C class just basked in them. But in order to demonstrate the amount of power those flames could have, Misty conjured a large boulder and had Fenrir hit it with a tiny ball of powerful condensed black fire. As soon as the ball hit the boulder, it enveloped then incinerated it.
When Fenrir finished his demonstration, and the applause for Sir Rodrick, Python, Misty, and Fenrir ended, Rock walked in front of the four and muttered something. His neck glowed a light green after.
"I will now hand you all papers with the chant for Summon Familiar written on them."
« Oh. Magical amplification. »
Rock begins walking towards us. "Please do not recite the chant until we tell you to. An A class kid accidentally teleported two of their classmates to Reverse Rheta. Though the circle was incomplete, it could still function as a portal, so keep that in mind when I hand you a dynamo. …Oh, and those kids are ok. Those charms in your hands held off the inevitable just long enough for us to save them. Don't read and you'll be fine."
The casual nature of his voice eerily combines with the quick summary of a semi-terrifying event. A random teleportation to a place that you likely couldn't breath in, where the air tried to smoosh your body like you were a soda can. And everyone knows this. There's not a soul alive that doesn't know of the dangers of vitura, so the story almost comes off as some sort of threat. Actually it is a threat. But that threat does the trick. When Rock hands a student a paper, instead of looking at it all excited, they hold it by their thigh and blankly stare at whatever's ahead. All the joy their eyes held leached out and into the paper.
Again, I wish I had a phone. I could possibly get a sizable chunk of money out of what I'd call, Embodiment of the Fear of Death, or something else ostentatious.
"Yeah, that sounds about accurate. Face of Death's Only a Step Away, or in this case, a paragraph. Though I don't know how much money you could get off of it without some serious marketing. …Oh, uh, before I go, I should probably explain to you vitura. Vitura is what's known as natural mana, or life energy. It's called anima in most of the southern, western, and eastern countries. Bye!"
Posing much like my class I stand stiff, arms at my sides, dead eyes dead ahead, and mouth set in a worried line, all so I could call Python without the chance of anyone noticing. Thankfully, she left our telepathic link intact.
« "Hey." »
« "Hello," » greets Python, « "What is your verdict?" »
Straight to the point I see. « "I was very impressed. Your demonstration was excellent. Ten outta ten." »
I feel Python bow her head. « "Thank you for saying so Master Amoretta." »
« "No prob, but I do have a couple of questions for you." »
« "Throw." »
« "Huh? Oh– So, first question: How much power are you and Sir Rodrick outputting to fire each projectile?" »
She doesn't answer me immediately, like how I thought she would. But as Python thinks, they hum a singular, enchanting, note.
« "If I were to round numbers to an agreeable point, I'd say that for each projectile fired, Rodrick and I combo an output of 2,065 MP. Rodrick's power output is 1,243 MP, and mine is 823 MP." »
\ Blink.\ « But that's…never-mind. "Ok," I say. "Second question: Was Sir Rodrick ever a Platinum grade adventurer?" »
« "Yes he was. Platinum rank 4 I believe, though he did not call on me oft. He's fought many great beasts with or with not my help. He's fought many mighty humans as well, making him well deserved of the honorific Sun." »
« Sun? »
Still I mentally nod my agreement. Rock's been individually passing out papers so he's just three columns away from me. There's still time to ask a couple more questions, but the questions I want to ask sound too obvious to me. Python dangled a carrot that I'm finding hard to resist. (Though I did kind of ask for it.) I want to ask if Sir Rodrick's fought any of mother's people, but that may tell her something about me that I would rather her not know. I also don't know if Rodrick can communicate with…
That's it! I wanted to ask this question but it might also answer my previous thought!
« "Ok, third question: Are you ok with Sir Rodrick calling you a he?" »
« "Tis quite alright. Male pronouns, female pronouns, it's all the same to me." »
I blink in confusion. « "Pronouns? Like proper name?" »
« "Non. Pronouns are words like he, she, him, her, it, and they. They describe a creature by their sex or preferred sex." »
In my sixteen years how have I never learned this? And Python explained it with this succinct emotionlessness. It makes me feel less stupid, and I appreciate that.
« "Thank you for educating me," » I say with a mental bow.
« "Do you have any other questions?" »
« "I do…" » Rock's now one person away from reaching my line. « "…but I promise this'll be the last one." »
« "Oh pish, I do not mind. Ask and you shall receive." »
\ Blink. \ « "Ok so… When did you and Sir Rodrick partner?"»
« "Hmm?" » There's that melodic hum again. « "I believe when the lad was twenty-three years of age, which would make the length of our partnership going on twenty-four suns. Do you have any more Rodrick centered inquiries?" «
Damn! Do I lack that much subtlety? …If you can't beat 'em, join 'em, right? Better Python assume what I think they might be assuming rather than my actual goal, right?
« "Yeah actually. So when did Sir Rodrick join the Royal Guard?" »
I feel the snake smile, « "Three years before your friends. That would make the date Initial year 13,016. Rodrick was actually the one who appealed to your friends' pure principles and to recommend they join on account of their power. You all command such grand aura's." »
« "Grand?" »
« "Yes, grand. They radiate such inspiring power, quite like a miniature star." »
« "You can see my aura!?" » No one should be able to see or sense my real aura. It's securely hidden behind– or I guess was securely hidden behind six layers in the spell Aura False.
Aura False:
Aura False is a spell that creates a false aura, and has the bonus effect of perpetuating a false level. One's true aura can be encrypted by up to ten protecting layers, none of which will deactivate unless the user deactivates the layers themselves. In terms of human spell rankings, Aura False is a rank Echelon tier Upper spell at 44,600 MP.
« "'Tis my natural given ability." » The snake explains. « "Mon species is of the Jacquard Roll, of the province Animalia Chordata. We are known as Python Molurus, or White-Tailed-Pythons. We are–" »
The sound of paper and a familiar human presence turns my attention to just slightly left of me. Rock. He's holding out a slip of paper face down. I grab it and he nods, then starts walking back to Misty and Sir Rodrick.
« Ok. »
I turn my attention back towards Python. « "Sorry. Please, continue." »
Python mentally nods their head. « "We are oft considered water spirits by humans, and are called Modus or Uruonca for our ability to perceive aura and human statuses. It makes our eyes worth a great deal of money unfortunately, therefore, our species was summoned mainly to be hunted. We have–" »
Rock then, unknowingly, interrupts, "Now that you…"
Class C–me included–winces. Rock still has that voice amplification spell on, while only about two meters away. Thought he was going back to Misty and Sir Rodrick but I guess I was wrong.
"Mmhgmm," Rock clears his throat, magical amplification now gone. "Now that you all have papers, spread out across the Coliseo. Stay three meters away from others. When we give you the go, you may recite the spell, Summon Familiar. Have any problems, just raise a hand."
We all start walking.
« Ok. »
Something fuzzes, like static, then snaps. My body instantly reacts to the stimuli, my head whipping around before my conscious can tell it to stop. I see Rock walking back towards the other Royal Guard. I see Fenrir's big self snuggled up against Misty. I see Sir Rodrick shaking a mentor's finger at them, likely giving Misty a mentor's lecture. Python is gone.
"…Huh." At least an exasperated sigh is in character.
I somehow feel even more antagonistic towards Sir Rodrick, not that he would have even known our conversation was happening. And though I didn't solidly get an answer on if he and Python could converse, the snake's eagerness in talking to me confirms what I had already thought. Nary a human learns, nary a one has the ability.
"Let's skip over thiiiss…"
I end up near the lovely stone wall of the Coliseo with only two other people near me. One is a commoner, and the other a noble kid, but not Tenzo. Either way, he's minding his own business.
I pivote counter-clockwise on my right leg and lean back.
Thud.
My back hits the stone wall and I slide down till I'm sitting, legs outstretched. A little dirt cloud springs up and dusts my uniform, which I hurriedly brush off once I notice. No grass, right. That makes sense, I think.
« I believe Kuzumo or Mizushi called that consumerism or commercialism, » I think.
« Despicable. »
Again, I can't help but to stare at Sir Rodrick, my one-aspect respect teetering. It's not like he's a bad person, I don't think. He's a complacent person. I don't know if he partnered with Python to try and "save" their species or because the terms of their contract were agreeable, and I don't care. Him, and all of these other mini humans, are ignominious.
I look up. Everyone else is standing, papers firmly gripped, haunted eyes skirting anywhere but their hands. A small giggle tries to escape my mouth the more I survey class C. Their fear is quite the delightful treat. Especially after what I just heard, their unease is like fine juice, crafted by the world's greatest…juice person, and I just can't get enough of it! Their misery eases my anger into addicting glee. I almost want to open a circle and push a brat in just for the hell of it, just to see what brilliant expressions they'll grace me with next.
But the minute that thought crosses my mind I frown.
« What? »
This is the second time I've caught myself thinking like that. The second time, in the last three or so months, that I've had this…I don't even want to say tendency but, tendency towards wanting to harm these humans to gratify myself. Unease blooms in my hands, especially my free right hand.
« No. »
I ball my fist, which spreads that thin uneasiness up my arm, to my chest, and down to my feet where it exits. A cold prickly feeling shadow follows just seconds behind.
Despite my loathing, I have never once thought about harming these creatures unprovoked. That is a mark of a beast who runs purely on instinct. I am a Sage, which makes such actions beneath me. We never sink down to these deplorable's levels. We do not harm others for our own pleasure. We fight only to protect our Rex's, their Dominions, and their subjects. Negative emotions like despair, anger, and betrayal are used to fuel our strength and reinforce our determination to protect our Dominions. They are never to be wielded for self gratification. Gratification as an occasional by-product is expected, and therefore mentioned during training. You see a lot of good and bad as a sage and must deal with it.
I've dealt with it just fine over the past three years, so why now do these feelings crop up? Humans must truly be some sort of infectious disease if after only ten months among them I've started to think like them. But why?
« What's happening to me? »
My hands are already rubbing my biceps when I realize that they are no longer by my sides.
« Shit! Oh please let no one have noticed, » I think as my eyes scan the Coliseo and I–despite knowing in my right mind that moving slower attracts more attention than it detracts–gradually move my hands back to my sides.
« Oooh! »
I spot two noble brats looking at me. Or in my general direction. I can't tell! That common kid's also looking at me for sure, judging me out of the corner of their eye. Some gremlins even all the way in the center noticed! I feel eyes on me from everywhere!!
« Turn your attention elsewhere, nothing to see here. »
Casually, I bring my now crinkled Summon Familiar chant to my eyes.
« THE FUCK!!? »
Before me is a whole-ass paragraph. Passage. Stanza. A fucking AP test exerpt! My discomfiture is quickly thrown to the wayside as I stare wide eyed at the paper.
« This ain't a fucking chant, it's a damned incantation! 'From the Reverse to the origin, I summon thee,' » I read. « 'Heed my call and send forth a sign. Hear my praise O great creature of mana. Being of mana. The purified beast of Michelle and Mael…' Who are they? '…Hear me my summon. Traverse from plane to plane. Find my signature, find my essence. Take my tithe of mana. I ask you to converse with me, O blessed being. Hear my offer and become my companion. My comrade. My partener. Walk with me on the gods' land. Fight with me in the gods' light. Sup with me from the gods' bounty's. Summon Familiar.'
« How many…one two three four five…seventeen damn lines for what? For what!? Even the North's Summon Familiar wasn't this… Why!? How?! What type of madness is THIS!! A Paragraph FOR WHA– »
"You may now begin!" yells Rodrick, startling me.
A chorus of teenaged voices–all out of sync–rises up. Everyone is reciting the incantation. I watch them. Magic circles spring up one after the other, and mini light shows dazzle my eyes. It's pretty, but not as flashy as when Rodrick and Misty summoned their familiars. Everything's all fun and good…till one circle breaks. Then another. Then another. I'm surrounded by the sounds of shattering glass, as all but two circles break. But the wonderful music falls on semi-deff ears.
Each confused little face and flare of worry calms my mind and slightly disturbs my soul. Don't get me wrong, it's still fun to watch class C grapple with their papers and furrow their eyebrows, but I don't get the same amount of joy I usually would from it. That thought from earlier bobs in the back of my mind. But the more I sit, the more it fades.
Dear little Tenzo, near the center, seems to be struggling. His hand raises for a couple of seconds and white shards of magic soon follow. He keeps trying and trying and trying, looking more and more delectably frustrated. This is a brat that has most definitely earned his misery. Too bad I can't clearly hear the melody he produces every ten seconds.
Then there's this girl called Wandrae, a perfect example of the popular mean valley girl archetype: The daughter of a noble from the west continent, Landachiss, with little brains and little power. The girl is seriously some one dimensional filler. Wandrae is so much like a cartoon supervillain that I find it hard to even think of her as real at times. She's a live reality tv show and it's time to watch her falter. (Though it's also strangely endearing to watch her succeed too.)
Brain, an I'm Not Like The Other Kids stan, provides the most entertainment. Watching him cements every reason I have for lacking sympathy towards these toothless monsters. Did I mention that he's also a Gentleman? He loves to help–especially–women, and guide them in the correct way of doing things.
Now is no different, as he's helping another kid summon a familiar. I can hear every word they exchange– sorry, that Brain lambastes this kid with.
"Why aren't you enunciating clearly? You can't answer a call if you can't hear it! I told you already, you want a wide stance so your mana can flow through you're body correctly. Didn't you read? It clearly says that a tithe of mana is required. Not enough mana equals diddly squat!"
« Diddly wha? »
"Ugh, look at me and copy." Brain spreads his legs just over shoulder width apart, knees slightly bent, back slightly bent, and right arm slightly bent. "See? Look at how I'm perfectly straight."
« Bent like a protractor. »
Misty also seems to be enjoying herself. She's wearing a sadistic little smirk and her eye's are full of mockery. Her whole being's a devil's sneer, which I have to try really hard not to warmly smile at. We are both holy devils discreetly surveilling an unchaste populous. But it's Misty who has her some premium tickets as the students of C class ask her for help or advice or whatever. It must be a lukewarm job with Sir Ass-hat watching over you. He's helping others too, and so is Fenrir. Rocks the only one sitting around doing nothing. He's likely taking on the same role he always has: a quick response observer.
Out of everyone, there are only three–
"Fast forward…"
"Why aren't you reciting the chant like all the others?…"
\ Blink Blink. \ "And that is why you fast forward slowly kids!"
"…Scared you won't be able to summon one?" Misty's face is now strangely blank.
"Something like that," I reply.
"Oooh! Well don't worry, just try! I'll be here to help you every step of the way!"
My drawl eyes slowly lower as I stand up, only refixing onto her face once I start to brush the dirt off my skirt. Another pair of bratty eyes is on us now. Just like with the other kids the Royal Guard helped, we're drawing a small audience. Kids who want to glean more information, kids who want to gawk, and kids who, like me, want to watch failure.
"So," says Misty, eyes filled with playful mockery, "having trouble reading the spell?"
I fight down a chuckle. « Stay in character, stay in character, » "No. It's just that I can't get over how long this damn spell is."
Misty puts on the most innocently blank look I've ever seen. "Can't read a paragraph?"
Soft ooo's spring up around us.
"Ah, you know what?" Misty continues, "Why don't you try it out for me. Just this once, then we can go get some water! It's real tough to look at words then repeat them outloud." She sighs, "Smart people have it easy. They can just keep on reading and reading, while dump people like us have to guzzle a gallon after just one paragraph! I haven't had a drink all day! I mean, I've improved enough to at least read two pages, but two pages is a lot ya know!"
My abs quiver with suppressed snickers. If I had a peachy complexion my face would most definitely be red. « Keep it together! Maintain character!! »
"Yeah."
Misty beams, then gestures for me to recite the incantation. When I raise my hand up, Misty moves just half a meter to my right, still giving me an encouraging smile. As I begin to read, she nods.
I do not falter. But as this is just a performance I do not let a lick of my mana flow. Words have no power if you prevent them from conjuring such. I have taught all my students as such, and heightened their senses in much the same way mine were when I was training in the west. So when I go to telepathically contact Misty I see that she has already called me.
« "Whatcha thinking?" » she asks when I enter the call.
« "That we need to talk. How long will it take for Sir Knightly to notice our absence?" »
I feel Misty add Rock to the call.
« "I crave candy?" » Misty says.
« "Ten to fifteen minutes," » Rock replies. « "I'll make a path with Aerase." »
« "Point it towards Sir Silver please. I want him to notice but not notice. That'll prolong our time right?" »
« "Mmm." »
« "Ok, how are you getting me out of here?" »
Misty grins like a child. « "Just follow my lead and trust." »
I feel Rock smirk.
« "Okay then! See ya in three!" »
"…gods' bounty's. Summon Familiar."
Our audiences' eyes smile and snicker at the lack of a light show or the sound of shattering glass. At the nothing. My chest stings with a tiny bout of embarrassment.
As I lower my hand I must remind myself that their reaction is the desired result. I chose to prime my class to expect such an outcome from me. I wanted to hide away my true powers. I chose to appear as a lackluster sun; but I am a sun nonetheless. I remind myself that I bear the name Crimson and the stellar core that comes with it.
"Well…uh? What's your name?"
I hesitate a little, just enough to perpetuate embarrassed frustration. "Amoretta," I reply.
"Well Amoretta, you did uuuuuh– Now let's go get ourselves some water! After all, muscles need their fuel after a nice workout!"
I ignore the rise of soft snickers as Misty jauntily turns around, hands in pockets, and starts walking. She hums a cheery sounding tune that I've never heard before. It's short and giddy until the last note, which sounds kinda off. It's the perfect theme for Misty, and C class seems to agree, as little flames of fear arise then dissipate with every kid we pass. I can't help but feel proud at each flame's emergence.
We've walked quite a ways through the Coliseo, growing ever closer to Sir Fabled. He hasn't truly noticed us yet. Probably thinks that Misty's just doing her job, helping a poor student.
She's still calm and cheery and I'm still blankly following her. My eyes face forward but my senses engulf the Coliseo, so I can plainly "see" that no one's had success in summoning a familiar yet. But there's still about thirty-five minutes left for class C.
Left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot, left–
A chill air envelops Misty and I. Time feels slowed and outside sounds muffled, yet the sound of my sneakers and the stomp of Misty's boots ring.
Aerase:
Aerase is a spell created by Rock that erases the presence of certain individuals in a given area. The targets of the spell can be seen, but not observed. It's like the brains of those around the targets are shut off for a time, omitting any scenes containing the spell's targets as long as the targets stay within the spell's area of effect. In terms of human spell rankings Aerase is a rank Advanced tier Low spell at 22,000 MP.
The passive sensory ability that I always have active gives me jumbled and confusing information. Skills nor spells will work in the field created by Aerase. It's a by-product of the spell's construction and low mana cost.
« "This when the fifteen minute timer starts?" » I ask Misty.
« "Nope!" » I can feel her defiant grin, her calm swagger, her cat-like attitude radiate from her as we continue to walk. « "Rock says that we're close to reaching the end of Aerase." »
« "But we're not all that close to Sir Sun-Sun." »
Tisk tisk tisk, Misty clicks her tongue. « "Walker," » she sings. « "You forget about Walker? The skill you touted as, Oh so important?" »
« "Heh." » Haven't used Walker since training them. Useful, but not really my style. I like to make an immediate impression and Walker is not always the best way to achieve that.
Walker:
Walker is a skill human ranked Intermediate tier Low, power level 13,000 P. For exactly one minute it makes the user practically undetectable.
As soon our feet exit Aerase we activate Walker. Our timing was perfect, the skill was not negated. Even though I know Misty's right in front of me it's hard to see her. I only know that she's there because of my sixth sense. I can feel minuscule amounts of false, unrestrained, aura flowing from her.
Past the Coliseo is barren un-surveilled land. But we're running up on our time. Once we're all together I start another call. Can't be too careful sometimes.
« "Timer starts now?" »
Rock answers, « "Started when you left Aerase." »
« "Gotcha." »
I snap. There are a few seconds of silence.
« "You still wanna watch your class?" » Misty asks.
As Walker deactivates, I turn toward her with a smile. "Don't wanna miss the show."
Misty and Rock look down. Below us is the Coliseo. We are fifty-five meters off the ground, fifteen meters above the Coliseo. No one can see or hear us, even if we were only two meters off the ground, thanks to my spell Cubical.
Cubical:
Cubical creates a three by three by three meter space made from densely packed air and mana. It has the ability to visually and audibly conceal those inside it. The spell requires 55 ,783 MP to perform.
It's existence is thanks to Kuzumo, who forced me to create an air based direct elemental manipulation spell. He wouldn't train me any further if I failed to do so within a week. I cursed his existence back when he gave me the task. I hated him for it, as my direct elemental control over air was weak, even weaker than shadow. But I somehow pulled it off. I had a little help from Master Sora, who gave me a little nudge in the right direction.
I was just barely able to pass Kuzumo's little test. Cubical isn't impervious, which, if made correctly, it should've been. It's highly condensed air being held together by a shit ton of mana, which is why sound doesn't escape the space. In all honesty, there's probably more mana holding the thing together than manipulated air, which is why it's able to conceal those inside it. It's imperfect. Because of this, the cube also shimmers when exposed to direct sunlight. It's not a lot, but it's enough to be noticeable in my opinion. Luckily, I pitched the spell as a way to observe others comfortably over a distance, or I likely would have failed and gone home early–a disgrace.
"So, you know who authorized," I gesture at the class, "this?"
Silence.
Neither of them moves. It makes me a bit worried. « Could Lysandros have something to do with it?… »
"We don't know."
I stand agape. There are so many thoughts running through my head that I think nothing. I can't formulate anything! The words, "We don't know," echo in my ears.
« They don't… »
Of all my friends, my students, Misty and Rock are the one's in the dark. They don't know.
Wow…
The person, or people, behind this must be masters of secrecy. Or they have a prowess or a skill that must be allowing them to slip past Misty and Rock. Misty and Rock…
"Ok," I say, breaking my long silence. But another expanse just opens up as I continue to grapple with the knowledge– no, with our lack of knowledge. We know it's so the brats have a greater chance of getting accepted into LAMS. We know the motive, but not it's holder. Or do we know the motive? Do we know the holder? It's possible… It's likely? It's connected to these kids? Are the kids a distraction? What about the brats having familiars, besides LAMS's entrance test, would give the mastermind any sort of power?
I take a deep breath. "Do either of you have any inkling as to who could be our target?" I let the deep breath out and take another one.
Misty steps up, "Possibly the adventurer Kaybon. His real name is Kullos Gran Rayez Blanca Durozess-Milla." She looks directly into my eyes "He is the child of Baron Uros Rayez Mar Blanco Milla and Baroness Victoria Joya Zae Amarilla Durozess of the region Benditaland. They're part of the new generation of nobles and their power and influence are on the rise. They've gained a lot of favor with the King and Queen recently, and agree with the meritization of society. But what they preach doesn't exactly match with how they act. They want to do right, but their upbringing tells them otherwise.
"Kaybon has tons of social connections to members of the Royal Guard and affiliated nobles. He has a girlfriend, Scarleth Beinen Ooi Renia Guerreralock, also of the region Benditaland. Scarleth has a half-sister that attends Monte, but I do not know which year or which class. She is quite vocal about her pro-aristocratic and anti-meritocratic views, and so is Kaybon it seems. With all that said, there's little chance or reason that Kaybon and the Guerreralock's planned this event. What's more likely is that they told someone about this event and those people meddled. The Guerreralock's are lower ranking Viscounts and have a weak court presence. That would be their only path to influence members of the Royal Guard. But that still is not likely.
"It is even less likely that Scarleth planned the event herself. She seldom appears in court, though I have heard that she does like to party. It's rumored that she goes under the alias Countess Rouge when attending high society gatherings without her family. That could make her the orchestrator, but it's highly unlikely."
I nod. "Ok."
"Could also be Juan Haven Meos Crux Grunadainia, also known as the former Platinum rank 5 adventurer, and current highest ranked member of the Vis Elision, Saints Arc. He is an advent follower of the Arcíris, or Six Saints Religion. Allexius worships The Green Saint, Triune Will, and had prayed to them quite often during our training. That's one of their gods. Jaun and his family are followers of The Orange Saint, Primos Fortify, and like the namesake they definitely want to fortify one thing: the status quo. Nothing meritocratic, just like the old days. And his family's region, Grunadainia–like this one–reflects that. Why he would choose to attack through these kids is beyond me.
"But it seems the majority of the students of Monte come from noble houses that tend to be opposed to meritocratic policies, and most look to be part of the older generation. This includes families from abroad. More so from Landachiss but also from the northwestern and southwestern nations of Midori Hiyake. Monte, like LAMS, is a historically acclaimed school, producing students who go on to become highly valued members of society. Most usually go on to become celebrated adventurers, court knights, or court mages. Again, Allexius. He went to and graduated from LAMS and look at him now. Given these facts, these kids attending these schools are sure to bring more future power to the aristocratic aligned. They are sure to gain heavy power and influence just from graduating Monte, and LAMS."
"Ok, makes sense." They may not have information on who set this half of the Prep Event up, but they do have valid theories. That's Misty and Rock for you. "How many kids from classes A and B successfully summoned and gained a contract with a familiar?"
"Eleven out of twenty-one A class students," starts Misty.
"And seven out of thirty B class students," finishes Rock.
I lean against one of Cubical's walls. "Not bad. I don't think more than four will gain one from C class. And none will summon a familiar in D or E class." I snort before turning my gaze to the show below.
I foolishly thought this situation no more complex than, Weeee! Boost our students' chances at LAMS, boost our already high reputation! No, there are actual stakes that could affect the Southern Dominion. Even in the hands of stupid children familiars can grow powerful. Mana-Born amass mana far quicker than Mana-Generators, and they're constantly taking in vitura… Eventually, they could grow strong enough to take on spirits or dragons.
« What exactly could the mastermind be up to? » I think as I watch C class become less and less galvanized. They're starting to give up, which gives me relief.
I don't know much about Almabillux's military or adventuring affairs. All I know is that they're less dragon genocidal than west humans. I know nothing of eithers interest in spirits. Spirits are even more unobserved than dragons, and Almabillux is not fond of over-hunting from what I've seen. But they could be planning something for the future. Is this why my parents sent me here?
"Did you ever learn the levels of the familiars summoned?"
Misty puts a hand to her chin before answering. "I believe the weakest was just above 7,000 P? And the strongest…was around 13,000 P?"
Rock nods his confirmation.
"Ok."
We all look down at the silver class. Tiny ants on a wide expanse of tan-brown. Seven white circles by less than a third of the insects. The pale beautifully carved stone of the Coliseo their brilliant cage. My eyes, fifty-five meters tall, tower over a hound and the insignificant.
So insignificant we were too. Even a god starts out a stripling. That is something I must never lose sight of. Just like how the strong will always trample the weak, a little seedling can always grow into a towering tree. I'm less than half-way grown but eventually I will reach Kuzumo, and mother, and potentially beyond. So could these kids, and so can their possible familiars. I must never forget.
"So we can see their levels," starts Rock, "if any familiars are summoned, I'll pull up Assassin's Mirror."
Both Misty and I nod.
Assassin's Mirror:
Assassin's Mirror is a human created spell that allows one to spy on a target from a maximum distance of eight-hundred meters. In terms of human spell rankings, Assassin's Mirror is a rank Intermediate tier Greater spell at 15,700 MP.
Jonathan's modified version can expand the view to multiple people from a maximum distance of two-hundred meters, and enables one to also hear an individual target from a maximum distance of eight-hundred meters. In terms of human spell rankings, Assassin's Mirror X is a rank Intermediate tier Middle spell at 16,310 MP.
Rock walks over to the wall on his left then sweeps his hand across before saying, "Assassin's Mirror X."
A large screen looking thing with a fancy bronze border glitches into existence. When it's solid Rock pinches at the screen, like it's an image on a phone, and the image in the mirror zooms out. A simple aerial view of the entire class is now on display.
« Ok great, » I think before activating one of my prowesses. It's name is Amber Eyes. As the name suggests, my eyes do indeed glow an amber color. As I continue to look at the screen I place a hand on my hip. A bunch of colors mingle against a thin pale pink background–weak ever present vitura. I see the light blue aura of Rodrick, and the lime green color of Tenzo. Five light gray circles now dot the Coliseo's dirt floor. Three white circles are interspersed with the gray, two of which have several thin wispy white tendrils rising out of them.
"Two students are close to summoning familiars. One of them is a dark lapis blue and the other is orangish yellow," I tell Misty and Rock. I didn't give them any direct directive, but I know they've activated the sensory type skill, Sensory.
Sensory:
Sensory is a skill that allows one to sense the aura of others within a hundred meter radius and perceive it as blobs of color. The larger the blob of aura sensed, the stronger the holder likely is. The skill is human ranked Experienced tier High, power level 10,000 P.
Both Amber Eyes and Sensory can perceive aura, but Sensory creates a picture for the mind's eye while Amber Eyes allows me to physically see the color of aura. Another difference is that Amber Eyes can also perceive mana, and it gives me both written and numerical information about mana and one's aura.
Both dark lapis and orangish yellow are below level 1, and their itty bitty auras reflect that. Both barely reach ten centimeters in… « Focus Amoretta. » Dark lapis looks to be closer to completing the summoning than the other, so I tell Rock to focus the mirror on only them.
« Power level 6,600 P. Summon ninety-eight percent complete. » "He's ninety-eight percent done, so will see the dudes possible familiar in less than a minute."
My eyes narrow on the steady face of the figure before us.
"Wait, isn't that Carlos's little brother?" Misty asks.
I fold my arms across my chest. "Yeah. Cuanto Bahestore so Quatuor na Evita-Vain I think his full name was."
"That's it!?"
"Yep."
Sixteen year old sword boy's name is one that I tried to memorize along with the rest of the immediate family. The father, Larsonymaize Rico Efar Venus ra Guerrero na Evita-Vain, the mother, Emilia Fae Momoso Efar na Evita-Vain-Heragin, the sister, Reina Krist Efar Veol sa Burrol na Evita-Vain, the eldest brother, Lysandros Granemar Efar Venio se Fortis na Evita-Vain, and the middle brother, Carlos Sebertio Efar Vero si Terpio na Evita-Vain.
The Evita-Vains' rule this region, Monte Carlo, named by their great ancestor Monte Carlo something something whatever na Evita-Vain. He's also the one who decided his capital city should be called Vanity. They are one of the oldest noble houses, being part of the four families that founded Almabillux. That's really what gives them their great authority and major–and I do seriously mean major–superiority complex.
They are the biggest proponents of the aristocracy, and are therefore the biggest and baddest fighters against meritocracy. They are staunch traditionalists. And, so I've been told, they not only wield grand social and political influence but also "awesome" power.
Every kid looks like the father: tall, silky light brown skin, beautiful curly black hair, and intelligent light brown eyes.
Cuanto is…jacked? Is that the– yeah, that's the verbiage you guys would use. He almost looks like a fully grown twenty something year old man, but the baby fat in his cheeks and lack of stubble or…five o'clock shadow (you humans and your fucking expressions) effectively halts those assumptions.
A drop of sweat drips from Cuanto's brow.
"It's here." I deactivate Amber Eyes.
A giant looking gust of wind pours forth from Cuanto's magic circle. No doubt that everyone's noticed, but it seems that the familiar doesn't want anyone else but Cuanto to see it, as little white balls float up from the circle and begin forming a barrier. The familiar barrier doesn't counteract Assassin's Mirror X, thankfully, but I'm not sure if it's because of the strength of the modifications or because the familiar doesn't know that we're watching.
Cuanto is enveloped in a sea of white that looks like it stretches on forever. The only other thing present is a now golden glowing magic circle. Cuanto looks to be in awe. He's breathing heavy, mouth agape, and eyes sparkling. Actually, mystified is a better word. And mystified we all were when fuzzy looking balls of golden light began floating out of Cuanto's magic circle.
"What the hell's happening?" Misty asks no one in particular.
« My thoughts exactly. »
I re-activate Amber Eyes. I've never seen this before, though I have only summoned the one familiar. Fenrir just came out of the circle with a Whoosh, no grand show, so I want to understand all of what's happening.
"I'll relay what I see with Amber Eyes."
« Those aren't just random golden orbs, » I think, intently staring at them. « 'Mana body.' So the fuzz is the familiar. And it's beginning to converge. »
"The fuzzy golden orbs are the familiar's body disassembled into particles of mana, though I don't know why."
« What the fuck is this? Is it due to… '150/30,000th'!? Level 3! How'd he even summon one that's so much stronger than him!? »
I purse my lips. The golden fuzzy particles somehow calmly rush together. I don't know how else to describe it. They quickly but purposefully combine? As the fuzz balls gather, they softly illuminate Cuanto. It's a scene straight out of some dramatic power ramping anime.
The creature is awash in a golden light, now fully formed. I can somewhat discern it's outline. It's small, I think. I can make out four legs, what looks to be wings, and two tiny horns.
« Oh, thank Fons it's not a wyvern!… » Wyverns don't have front legs but front wings, and they don't possess horns. They're the rarest type of familiar, as well as the strongest.
Poof! the little familiar pops into being and I shit bricks. « There's no way! No damn way he summoned a mystiger!! »
"Tch! He summoned what's known as a mystiger," I say, now glaring at the mirror. "They are the creations of ancient wind spirits, practically wind itself, able to create storms and even lightning. As you can see, they have the body of a tiger, the horns of a dragon, and the wings of a falcon. This one may be as old as five-hundred, which is pretty much their equivalent of being a five year old in human years. But hold onto your seats ladies and gentlemen, this one has the power of a baby dragon at its disposal!"
"How can you tell it's five-hundred years old?" Misty asks.
"Just a hunch. Based on it's aura and the fact that it's a mystiger it's definitely a child. The width of their aura displays how many familial years they've lived, and these guys live much longer compared to other familiars."
A familiar's aura is a coat that tells others whether or not they can mess with you. While the width displays their age, the intensity or opacity of the aura's color displays their power.
"Cuanto," says Cuanto. It half surprises, half startles me. Misty, Rock, and I all look at each other in confusion, then back at the mirror. Cuanto and the mystiger are just staring at each other.
"Ventorti huh? That's a nice name!"
« Huh!? » My thoughts are echoed aloud by my friends.
"Yes! I would love to hear the story," Cuanto exclaims as he wipes the sweat off his brow. His bright eyes follow Ventorti as the familiar excitedly zips around him. Whatever the familiar's saying, he's captivated.
Rock shifts his weight. "Think the familiar's talking out loud?"
"Well Fenrir can, maybe Ventorti's prowess allows them to talk out loud too?" Misty words don't hold much confidence and neither does her face. She seems to still be postulating the thought.
"Then I'll switch–"
"No, don't," I say. Their eyes fall on me while mine stay on Cuanto. His giddy face is fixed to the familiar. He's nervously smiling, but not out of fear. No, I sense no fear from him, even though we're fifty-five meters apart. His body language doesn't read fear but awkward happiness, something Cuanto display's often. "It's a possibility that either Ventorti or Cuanto have a prowess capable of allowing them to communicate, but that's not important. This kid is stunted and repeats everything like a little child. There's no need to switch to Ventorti."
"Wow!" exclaims Cuanto. "So your parents took Ventor from your grandfather to honor him? And added Ti to honor your great ancestors? That's so interesting!"
"Ugh!" Misty takes out her wallet then throws me a medium bronze coin. Once I pocket the cash in a small slightly translucent blue cube, I give Misty a shit eating grin.
"So ventus means wind. And you're a descendant of wind spirits. Pretty awesome your name means something like that! Almost like how a Contundengrues is blunt and thick. The sword is perfect for causing internal damage and breaking hard shells, like it's name suggests! Or a Coffin which is mainly used to stab hard to reach places because of how thin the blade is. A short sword–more like a dagger–that sends its opponents two meters under!"
I sigh.
"Kid knows his stuff," Rock comments.
There's silence as Ventorti likely responds. Their mouth doesn't move, so if they did have a translation centered prowess it likely allows others to understand their telepathic speech. Or Cuanto's the one with the ability. Or neither has a translation centered ability and Cuanto learned how to communicate with Mana-Born. Huh, what am I thinking? The latter is even less likely than the former.
"Oh, my name's nothing special like that. It's just because I'm kid number four. It's so boring compared to your name."
Silence.
"Yeah, I'm the fourth child. My older sister Reina came first, then my Lord Brother Lysandros, then Carlos!" Cuanto's eyes sparkle.
« Wait wha? »
"Carlos's so awesome! He's an adventurer, a court-man, and a comedian all in one! When I grow up, I want to be just like him! But with a sword instead of a spear. A Nimcha!" Cuanto begins to make fierce strikes with an imaginary blade. His stance is low and his swings are high, likely aiming at an imaginary head or neck. "It works best for the Lirgowheay Yawhathera or Full-body Lion style of fighting. It's a style all my Master's own, and is why she's an Espada Raíz!"
Silence.
"Oh! It just means that she's the creator of a fighting style. I've been learning under Master since I was four years old. She taught me everything I know! Well, almost everything. Carlos also teaches me things when I see him. He's even taught me how to control my mana better!"
« Hmm? »
"He told me to try and picture my mana like it's an invisible hand, and to move rocks fifteen centimeters to my left or fifteen centimeters up in the air. Says his own master taught him that, but not his spear master. He says he'll teach me even more the next time we see each other! I'm to keep practicing until then.
Silence… A long expanse of silence.
Ventorti seems to be telling their own little story now as Cuato excitedly nods his head in agreement every now and then.
"Yeah! We'll both surpass them one day! I'll get my brother to teach me more magic and fighting, and you'll get your Antistes to recognize your skills! We both better work hard. Hey! Actually, I have an idea! I'll just get my brother to introduce me to his other Master next time he comes around!"
« Hmm? »
"That way, we can both learn from her! Now, I think that…"
I withdraw my attention from the conversation, a tiny smile present on my lips. Despite how very annoying he can be at times, I think of Cuanto as being quite charismatic. His childlike innocence reminds me of my own little brother. I think that unconscious comparison is what partly endears me to him. Cuanto is obsessed with swords like how Lindor is obsessed with magic. And while Lindor lacks our fathers sheepish demeanor, they too are quite alike: intelligent, explorative, and clever.
Lindor's the outspoken speak your mind type, almost like Cuanto, though he's only eight. But Cuanto has the personality of an eight year old, so it all evens out. They'd likely become fast friends given Caunto's quick connection with Ventorti.
Wonder how Lindor's doing right now, how many new spells he's learned, how much trouble he's gotten in, how many stories he'd have for me.
My tiny smile turns melancholic. My eyes take in a view beyond the bronze bordered mirror. I see the gargantuan cave room where my father's scrolls and files and tubes and tools are. I see my little brother sneaking in and messing with them. I remember that strange pink bubble he produced, how he morphed it with his mana, and how he created his first spell, Automata.
Automata:
Automata is a spell that can program any small inanimate object. Once the pink substance produced by the spell absorbs into the target, the caster can code simple commands for said object to perform until said object disintegrates. In terms of human spell rankings, Automata is a rank Experienced tier Upper spell at 9,560 MP.
That was about three years ago, around the time I met my friends. I would not even be using that word to describe our relationship if not for Lindor. Rambunctiousness is the killer of many things but not a good time. A necessary element for pulling us eight into a family. I would have never grown to trust and love them if not for Lindor's meddling. Innocence and naivety do have their mo–
My ears pick up the next thing that Cuanto utters against my will. If my consciousness had any say on what my brain decided to let my ears hear, I would've blocked it out. I don't know what those two were planning to end up where they did, but Cuanto's response is a cheery, "Naw. 'Bastard children don't have any worth, their only value is in the skills they cultivate for their family.' That's what my Lady Mother and Lord Brother Lysandros say."
\ …Blink… \
"It's why, 'one should never strive for higher than their pedigree,' as my father would tell me. Everyone knows that! So we should stick to the plan: practice our magic and combat until we can take down one low ranking Attacking class WAS beast. That'll prove that we are ready!"
My friends and I stand static as the tune of monotonous silence plays. Our senses are stunned. We can't react.
"You think so? Well that's just normal in our world. That's why I'm a swordsman." Cuanto's eyes hold a dark conviction, and for once he says no more.
Ventorti emphatically zips around, letting out angry mews every so often. Their possible argument is brief for soon they are resting on Cuanto's head.
"Well that's just how it is little guy. Why else would nobles be in charge? They work hard to protect us from monsters and WAS beast and ourselves." Cuanto strokes Ventorti's head reassuringly. "They create laws and things that keep us safe. Nobles are just born with the intelligence and responsibility that commoners don't have and never will get. Where would they be without my Lord Father and my Lady Mother? I love being a swordsman, and my Lord Father put me on this path. And it is my duty as a bastard to protect my family and their region! What's your duty?"
The little mystiger ponders the question. They think and think and think and think and think. Their sea blue eyes close as they paw their little head in frustration. When Ventorti's eyes open, they leap into the air and glide down to Cuanto's eye level.
Silence.
Cuanto's light brown eyes are soft as the familiar answers his query. But hidden in their depths are the remnants of something.
Cold determination, I recognize, risking a glance at Misty.
Her face is a steely mask. Her hands remain at her sides, no longer cheerfully in her pockets. She's as blank as a statue.
And Rock's arms are folded. The warm tones in his face have been replaced with stark white. His dead expression is now corpse-like.
"I think we've heard enough. Can you switch it to orangish yellow?" I ask Rock.
It takes him a second to hear me. He glances down in disbelief when the words finally reach his ears.
"Hmm." He swipes his hand across the screen and the image switches back to the class. In the upper left corner, near Rodrick, is that girl with the two long auburn plaits.
"Her," I point, Amber Eyes now active.
The image zooms in on her.
"Power level 7,000 P, summon ninety-nine perce–" All the sudden her circle turns a desaturated sky blue and the air above the circle glimmers.
I shut my mouth, Amber Eye's still active. But a small three headed green snake emerges with a Woosh, instead of materializing via mana-bodies.
"Power level, level 1. MP 10,000, SdP 10,000, DP 10,700, and SP 23,100…"
"Mana points, Speed points, Defense Points, and Stamina points." Finger-guns.
"…Aura is a dull sky blue, likely twenty-five meters."
The snake slithers towards the girl who's expression never shifts. She's flat, gray. Her brown eyes are joyless. They pier down her nose at the snake. Then they swivel right and finally smile. The edges of silver gauntlets hail her. The girl's eyes fill with dull pride, taking in the praise and jealousy that likely now surrounds her.
But, when they finally turn back to the tiny familiar, they are, again, joyless and drab. Disappointment clouds over as she picks up the snake. "Do I impress you?"
All three of the snake's heads nod yes.
The girl smiles. "Would you like to become my familiar?"
All three of the snake's heads nod yes and the air in front of the girl glimmers. A bright ball of silver light shines into existence, soon after, unfurling into what looks like long sheets of rough parchment.
The girl takes the papers. Her eyes scan it uninterestedly, "…Familiar Bonding…Signature here…Frey Schatz Gift…Animalia Chordata, Animalia…Recitals…Partners decide to bond for Purpose A, Purpose B, Purpose C… six months and six days…"
The girl starts skimming faster. She pours over a page in less than thirty seconds until, "Contractor's pen."
Silence.
Her eyebrows shoot up in confusion. She turns to her right again. "How do I get the Contractor's Pen?"
An answer prompts her to push on the paper like a button. "Contractor's pen," she commands.
A glowing white, blue, and gold ballpoint pen appears.
The girl's eyes fill with awe. She grabs the pen then swiftly turns to her right.
Silence.
She nods once.
Silence.
She nods twice, then turns back to the parchment in her hands. The girl, probably, flips back to the first page and begins to write.
"Skip."
Roelle finishes her last sentence, Article 5 now filled with an additional four clauses, the contract now filled with a total of fourteen changes.
"Time to go," announces Rock.
I look up at him, still able to recognize death. I don't know what to say to it. I don't know how to make it vanish. Misty too is still statuesque, stiff like a robot and blank like a white cloud. I can see it. I can see it so clearly, so why can't I dispel it?
Thump, my chest goes. Flitter, my heart dances. « What? » my mind questions.
My body comes up with the answer.
"See ya when I see ya?" my mouth utters. My arms open an invite.
Misty and Rock turn to me as the mirror fizzles out, and they smile. We dawn depressing smiles and embrace. We pass our feelings onto the person next to us, sit with them, understand them, then pass them on. They commiserate. I sympathize. We hold onto each other, and we bastion each other.
None of us lose those feelings of resentment, woe, animosity, or dismay. They are still very much present, but now they are fuel. We accept them, but now we will utilize them to further our goals.
My goal: Study the nobles of Almabillux, their capabilities and their weapons, and reap their future plans.