"I think I'm going to die," Bonnlyn whined as she sank onto a chair with all the grace of a jellyfish beaching itself.
"Don't be so dramatic," Olzenya grunted half-heartedly as she took her own seat.
Despite her words, the sweaty-high elf didn't look much better than the dwarf, who was even now sprawled out across the cool wooden surface of the common room table.
A move William had to fight not to emulate as he took his own seat. His… everything hurt as he sagged into his chair.
Because he'd underestimated the academy.
Oh, he'd certainly made preparations. He'd studied. He'd exercised. But at the end of the day, part of him had envisioned Blicland as more of a political prop than an actual place of learning.
He'd been wrong. He could admit that.
The last two weeks had been a constant deluge of lessons and physical exercise.
Politics. Obstacle Courses. Kit maintenance. Laps. Geography. Close combat practice. Magical theory. Magic practice. Advanced mathematics. Sit ups. Aether theory. Laps again. Logistics…
The list went on and on.
Wasn't this supposed to be a school for spoiled nobles? William thought blearily.
Apparently, someone had forgotten to inform the instructors of that. Griffith in particular. The damn woman was more machine than flesh.
…And how he wished that made her less attractive.
The sight of the dark elf in a sports bra and shorts did things for him, even as she lashed lagging cadets with criticisms – and occasionally her lash - as she effortlessly followed them around the training field.
His head met the cool wood of the table as his willpower finally gave out.
"I'm grabbing a wet cloth," Marline's voice called out from the communal bathroom. "Anyone else want one?"
A trio of 'ayes' rang out from around the room.
Well, William thought as he levered his back upright. One bright side of all this suffering is that it's bringing the team closer together.
Which he was entirely sure was by design.
"Someone poke the orc. Make sure she's still alive."
"I'm alive." Verity grunted in response to Olzenya's words. "Just… fried."
She'd foregone a chair entirely, choosing instead to sprawl out on the floor. A move that would have drawn criticism from either of the team's two elves just a week earlier.
Nowadays they just kind of… accepted it as one of the green skinned woman's odd quirks.
Eying the orc, William would admit that she certainly looked 'fried'.
While the rest of them were physically exhausted with a hint of mental exhaustion added in, Verity had the opposite issue. The tall girl was a demon on the obstacle course, arena floor and exercise field, but she suffered horribly in any kind of classroom environment.
As did most of the former peasants in their year.
Fortunately, the academy did provide a solution to that issue.
"Do you have remedial lessons tonight?" Bonnlyn asked.
"No," Verity's voice was muffled by the fact that her face was against the – admittedly quite clean – wooden floorboard. "I can do my own… stuff."
They'd gotten into the habit of trading out the job of getting Verity's room ready for inspection on those nights where the orc needed to attend remedial lessons. Even Olzenya.
I suppose it helps that if we didn't, we'd all be punished rather than just her, William thought.
Which again, was likely by design.
The team either succeeded together or they suffered together. There was no inbetween.
Or at least, that was the case for most things, he thought as a series of wet thuds announced the arrival of a trio of wet towelettes.
"You're a lifesaver, Marline." Olzenya sighed dreamily as she pressed the cool piece of fabric to the back of her neck.
"I agree," Bonnlyn added. "Even if I'm still pretty sure you're some kind of voice creature pretending to be an elf."
"Because I'm not sprawled out on the table?" The dark elf said dryly as she finished rubbing her own cloth across her face.
"Because you're not sprawled out on the table," the dwarf confirmed without a second's hesitation.
Marline just scoffed. "Some of us just had a more… focused childhood than others. So this isn't all that different from what I'm used to."
Bonnlyn made a noise that may charitably have been called a murmur of disagreement.
"Well try not to get too nostalgic for your frankly hellish home life," William said as he stood up on aching legs. "The instructors probably won't be riding us like this for much longer."
Even if his research had missed out on some of the nuance of the academy where intensity was concerned, the broad strokes would still hold true.
"They've spent the last two weeks breaking us down and bringing us together as a team, but now that's done they should back off," he finished. "I mean, they'll probably continue the inspections and stuff, but they won't be on our asses at all hours like they have been."
He deliberately ignored the way both Olzenya and Marline wrinkled their noses at his 'uncouth' language. Mostly because Bonnlyn chose that moment to provide a more convenient target for their indignation.
"Thank fuck for that," the redhead cheered.
----------------------------------------------
"How's that?" William asked as he finished strapping the last belt of Bonnlyn's maneuver suit tight.
He was still sore from yesterday, but he was also feeling a lot better after a good night's sleep and some breakfast. Say what you would about Blicland, they didn't skimp on the food. And a hearty meal of bacon, eggs and toast had done a lot to energize him for the day ahead.
The dwarf said nothing though, a complicated expression on her face as she stared at the far wall. Just outside the entrance to her personal quarters, the pair could hear quiet conversation from the team's communal area.
Mostly it was Marline walking Verity through the fairly complicated process of mounting the suit's flight gear. With Ozlenya occasionally chipping in with a slightly clipped, but ultimately helpful comment.
For William and Bonnlyn's part, her aether-tank and collection of slightly worn looking thrusters were still piled high on her bed.
"Bonnlyn?" he reiterated.
Eventually, the dwarf just sighed. "You know, for an outwardly flirty guy, you sure know how to leave a girl feeling distinctly unsexy."
"Unsexy?" He raised an eyebrow.
"It really did feel like it was my dad helping me get changed just now." She gazed down at him accusingly. "You didn't even blink when you walked in with that updated jacket – even though I was in my underwear. My sexiest underwear."
"Oh, uh, sorry? I guess?" He shook his head.
"Ugh, right in the feminine ego." The dwarf grunted as she fastened the top button of her gambeson-like flight jacket. "You didn't even sneak a glance at my tits - and they're my best asset!"
He could only bemusedly shrugged, reclining on the bed he'd been sitting on while helping the dwarf get changed.
She wasn't wrong though.
Ignoring the fact that Bonnlyn's 'assets' would never fool anyone into thinking she was anything less than her full eighteen years, her somewhat diminutive size had made him slip into the same mindset he'd used to have while babysitting his nieces and nephews a lifetime ago.
…Back when they'd been at an age where it wasn't weird for an older relative to help them get changed, of course.
Something the dwarf had apparently picked up on.
"Right." He coughed. "Is it better though?"
The dwarf glared at him for a few more seconds before reluctantly sighing. "Yeah, it's better. I can actually breathe now, so you do good work." She glanced toward the door. "Almost good enough to make putting up with the elf worth it."
He stood up, patting himself down. "Good to hear."
Even if he was deliberately ignoring the second statement. It was early days yet.
"Because now we're moving onto the more difficult part." He gestured to the bed, where enough paraphernalia to make a firefighter blush waited to be attached to what was really just the undersuit.
The dwarf rolled her eyes. "Do what you must."
He chuckled, grabbing the first manoeuvring thruster. "Alright, but please do try to pay attention. You'll be helping me next. More to the point, I imagine there'll definitely be tests on how fast you can get all this crap on in the future."
After all, in the event of an attack, the speed at which a marine-knight could get all their gear on would literally be a matter of life and death.
The dwarf grunted dismissively, but did actually pay attention as he started latching the first thruster into place – making sure to point out how to tell if it was the right way up as he did.
He'd made that mistake all of once growing up, and he had no desire to see it repeated with any member of his team.