"Everyone got to say their goodbyes?" The man asked in an uninterested tone. "Alright, good." He continued without giving them a chance to answer.
Finishing his sentence, he turned around and started sauntering down one of the walkways beside the road. Before the others could react both Jack and the purple boy started jogging after him. Seeing them take the lead helped the others grasp what was happening, so they were able to catch up. All five of them followed behind the man as he started taking a series of turns down the alleyways.
The man made a couple more turns before suddenly walking through an inconspicuous door at the back of a jewelry store. Surprisingly, instead of going inside the building the door led downwards into a tunnel system. Something none of them even knew existed.
After what felt like a forever underground they suddenly started climbing a flight of stairs. At the top of the stairs they went through another seemingly normal door only to emerge from the "closet" of a cheap bar and inn. "The local enforcements have tunnels like these set up in every city, but only the royal enforcers are allowed access to the maps of all of them." The man said to himself, "accidentally" letting the group behind him in on classified information.
As they exited the building they noticed they were on the outskirts of the city near the railway, an intercity method of transportation reliant on mana fueled carriages that move across the tracks. They were an incredible invention, greatly cutting down on travel time to the capital, as without the need to maintain your horses you could travel for much longer periods of time. Not to mention that they were simply much faster than typical horse drawn carriages.
Without explaining what was happening the man walked up to the tracks and stood in a seemingly random location next to it. As the group caught up to him they saw a massive machine roaring down the tracks as if to pass them. Only to come to a screeching halt directly in front of the man.
Once the metal beast stopped, the conductor, sitting in a small compartment towards the front, leaned back and around the outside of the "carriage" to open the door. After it opened he gave a slight nod before straightening up and preparing to start the "engine" again.
Having the door opened for him the man ignored the bottom steps and jumped straight into the compartment designated for passengers. The group clamored in after him; afraid they would leave them behind.
Sitting inside of the carriage Jack was shocked to find how quiet it was while moving. In fact, If it wasn't for the slight swaying he felt every now and then he wouldn't even know he was in a moving vehicle at all.
Ultimately, he decided to purge any unnecessary thoughts and instead focus on his surroundings. The first thing he looked at was the "middle aged" man that he and the others followed all the way here. He had strong features, and medium length brown hair.
Despite his impeccably tidy clothing his hair was messy and laid wherever it wanted. He was growing a little stubble on his face. As if transitioning from a playboy look to a rugged one.
His eyes were a dark reddish brown, they likely started brown but changed after he got farther in his pathway. Thinking to himself he started guessing the man's pathway, "He's likely part of a-"
"Hey, little mister lookie-loo. It's rude to stare." Interrupted the man.
"I wanted to leave you all to simmer a bit longer, but I'm probably hating the silence more than any of you, so let's move on to introductions. I'll go first, then you can just follow the format afterwards."
"My name given by the king is Conri Brand, but I'd prefer it if you'd just call me Mr. Brand.
I'm thirty two.
I have the right to be here because of my meritorious acts and unique Pathay.
My pathway doesn't have a proper name, but it allows me to transform into a wolf-like monster and gives me exceptional flame control.
Then if you have anything else you would like to say just say it at the end." as he spoke he held out his hand as his nails grew longer and the muscles on his hands became more defined. Hovering above his palm was a pointer arrow made of fire directed at Jack.
"Alright mister lookie-loo your turn." He said in a clearly mocking tone.
"My name is Jackson Orwell, call me Jack.
I'm ten years old and will turn eleven in two months.
I was told to be here because of my talents and potential in Flesh Scribing.
Flesh Scribes are a rare subset of the Rune Pathways that basically makes me an Artificer for humans.
I've already taken my first couple of steps as a Flesh Scribe, but I can only make the most basic codes at the moment.
I am short, not weak." He added in a half joking manner. Ignoring stares of the group he pointed at the tall boy and, in his best impression, said "Alright mister muscle mountain your turn."
"I am Angus Varon. Angus alone is fine." He spoke in a slow loud voice.
"I am eleven.
I can become powerful.
I am a Behemoth, we are large, and we are strong." After explaining his pathway, he added "I am slow, not stupid." stating his piece he pointed towards the boy dressed in purple and spoke, "Blonde one is next."
"It's Baird Gosa. I go by Gull, if you call me by my birth name, I will ignore you.
I'll be turning twelve in a couple of weeks, I forgot when exactly, but it's around then.
I have a good mix of talents that if developed properly could lead to a strong unique pathway.
I nicknamed my pathway elemental rapier as a mixture between my weapon of choice and what makes it unique. I'm fast, skilled, and have the talents to manipulate elemental energies, but have absolutely no resistance against them nor a talent in spell script.
My parents were real pissed, when they found out I didn't have the talents for the bard pathway."
He spoke quickly. Treating the task of talking like a chore he had to get through as fast as possible. He barely mustered the energy to lift his wrist, not even the full arm, and pointed at the girl with gray eyes. "You're next."
"Awww, and here I was waiting for a funny nickname." she spoke with a pout.
"I'm Elisabeth Rayn, you may call me Elisa.
I am twelve years of age.
I follow a rare pathway, same as young Orwell.
The pathway is referred to as Shaman. It allows me to perform magic rituals, create potions, and allows me to converse with the flora and fauna. Though at the moment I have only been able to perform some rituals in the storm domain."
Finishing her sentence she pointed her dainty finger forward making a thin stream of lightning flow from it. The "lightning" looked, and felt, more akin to static than anything, but then again it would have been shocking for someone her age to be able to materialize lighting out of nowhere.
In the direction of where she had pointed her finger, sat a teenager with dull black hair, a slouched posture, and baggy clothes that, on closer inspection, bulged at odd places. Tucking their hair back and revealing their dark brown eyes they sat up, exposing far more bulges in their clothing. They then flipped open a hidden flap revealing a truly baffling amount of weapons.
In a surprisingly light hearted manner for someone carrying an entire arsenal they spoke,
"Hi, I'm Bertrand. I don't have a last name so don't worry about it.
I don't actually know how old I am, but it should be around your guys' ages so let's just say 13.
I'm here by mandate of the local enforcers to make sure I don't do anything unsavory.
My pathway is a bit of a unique one. It's called Arms Dealer; a mixture of the cafter and rune pathways. Basically anything to do with weapons I have the capability to make."
"Oh and the hard to focus on me thing is also because of that. Where it makes warriors more intimidating and mages more mysterious, the mutations brought about by 'Underground' Pathways make you harder to be noticed. Plays into the whole 'secret manipulator from the shadows' trope."
Giving a resounding *CLAP* Mr. Brand leaned forward and said, "What a good one to end on; gave me a great segue to my next topic. As I've already stated I hate silence, it eats away at my mind, so let's get the basics out of the way."
"You're all going to make a team. Normally we have to swap in and out some people, but this group is pretty well balanced. Front line fighter and defender, main attacker for both physical and elemental damage, magic supporter/crafter/healer, a fucking Flesh Scribe, and a crafter/assassin."
"Even teams that we specifically make aren't guaranteed to be this well rounded and I'm absolutely not just making excuses to not do my job."
"I was told we don't form teams until our second year." Angus spoke at an almost normal speed, showing just how startled he was.
"Yes and you would be right if you were a normal student, but you're not. As members of unique and rare pathways there's no single instructor you can go to or tutor who can help you along the way. Your schedules will be fluid and constantly changing, and you will be put in and taken out of classes."
"The reason students only form teams in their second year is to get them used to interacting with lots of different people before settling into a suitable group, but you all will be following the opposite pattern. Your new team members and me, as your handler, are going to be the only constants in your life from now on. So do try to get along."
"And to end this little ramble rant I would like to take some time for everyone to ask questions for each other. Like I said, it would be best if everyone got along, so I'll start."
"Bertrand if your pathway helps you hide. How were you caught by some low level enforcers?" He asked that last part half heartedly as he already knew the answer.
"My business got a little too profitable, and the local smithys started losing customers. They were like 'what the fuck, all those people we sell shitty products to then overcharge to fix aren't coming back anymore.' Discovered that their customers were getting superior products that don't break every other week and ultimately got the police involved."
"Plus, it's kinda hard to hide the market getting flooded with unmarked and untraceable weapons without any serious form of backing. But that's not really how I got caught. My orphanages manager Ms. Wilkens found out I was the one responsible and turned me in."
"I was super pissed, but that woman practically raised me; I'm not gonna hold a grudge against her for too long. What I want to know is how that little lightning finger trick worked. I don't know jack shit about ritualistic magic, and want to learn a little more."
"Well I would be delighted to oblige. That 'little lightning trick' isn't actually done through ritualistic magic, or at least not directly. One of the things that makes Shaman's so powerful is that they can interact with, and derive power from concepts. Similar to Warlocks, except more spiritual than knowledge based."
"For example, I made a ritual sacrificing the mana infused blood of a powerful Electromancer, my father, and in return I get magic in the storm domain. Simple right?" Everyone inwardly shook their heads no.
"But instead of giving me spells or a temporary lightning affinity, it instead gave me a 'magic battery' with preset spells. I won't go into detail on what all I can do but let's just say it's limited."
" Then when the 'battery' runs out I can sacrifice more blood to refill it, but with me not able to use father's blood while at the Academy I'll need to create a new ritual."
"If that was informative enough I would like to learn more about this 'Behemoth' pathway. It seems to hold quite the intrigue."
"Behemoth's mutations make us big, and strong. The pathway has us hold Vitality in our body then perform sets of movements. Matriarch says only her descendents hold potential to become Behemoths."
***
"...and then he fell face first, right onto his own dagger!" Bertrand continued laughing uproariously as he finished his story, "It was absolutely hilarious." Getting, surprisingly, genuine laughter from everyone except Angus, his was more of a suffocated chuckle.
"Ha ha huh huh ha," trying, and failing, to catch his breath Mr. Brand was about to start the next story when he heard three hard knocks from the front compartment. "Alright, looks like we're already there. I'll show you all to your room and get you settled for the night.
"Sir, you mean rooms, right? Not room?" Eliza asked cautiously.
"No, I mean room. You don't have to worry; they're set up to accommodate seven. Two bathrooms, six bedrooms, a sizable kitchen, two living spaces, home gym, and enough storage space to get lost in."
Bringing them through another winding set of pathways they appeared out on one of the main streets. Though it was empty as it was already past curfew.
Their journey to the Academy was largely uneventful from there. Ignoring one encounter with the night patrol taken care of by Mr. Brand by flashing his Academy instructors badge. They arrived in front of a massive set of gates, surrounded by two massive walls.
"Welcome to your new home!" Mr. Brand exclaimed with far too much energy for how long of a day it had been.