Unlike the other two balkanized states of the former Elven Imperium, Lindholm still retained the old Imperial Navy approach to warfare.
An approach that emphasized redundancy.
Captains needed to be able to fight in a maneuver suit. Pilots needed to be able to command airships. Marines needed to be able to pilot shards.
Admittedly, that last item was an aberration, given that Shards weren't a thing back when the Elven Imperium spanned two continents, but the general thought process remained the same.
People could be more easily replaced than equipment. At least where mithril was concerned.
If a ship's captain was killed, the ship's marine-defender needed to be able to take over immediately. If a pilot was killed before they could launch their shard, a marine-saboteur needed to be able to pilot that shard. If a ship's marine-defender was killed, the captain needed to be able to personally defend their ship.
It was a large part of the reason why Lindholm's academic training period was so long relative to its continental cousins. The need for cadets to be trained in multiple fields. It was also part of the reason why the first year of that academic training period was so preoccupied with maneuver-suit training. It served as a decent basis for the other more advanced specialties.
"The beach," Olzenya deadpanned as she clambered out of her team's wagon and onto a patch of dirt, just short of a long bank of soft sand terminated by open ocean. "All that money. All those facilities. And Lindholm spends half a day shipping us out to the beach."
"It's efficient," the short-stack grunted as she jumped out. "Why bother building some massive structure for initial flight training when there's a perfectly good environment for it just down the road."
"I'd also point out that a structure of any kind would have walls and a ceiling," Marline pointed out as she and William helped Verity climb down. "Not ideal for flight training."
The reason the orc needed help was her choice of armour. While specialization wouldn't actually occur until the fourth year of the academy, it was still suggested that recruits start preparing for what their preferred roles might be as soon as possible.
The orc wanted to be a marine defender. Or at least, she did once the concept was explained to her. As such, she was wearing the heaviest variant of maneuver-suit possible.
Marline was wearing a medium, suggesting that she was aiming for the marine-saboteur role.
The rest of them? Ultra-light. Which meant pilot. Still perfectly serviceable in any of the other roles of course, but it was the weight class of choice for pilots for a reason.
Captains could wear whatever they damn well pleased – and none of them were in a position to be one anyway, so it was redundant. Nobles who were attending with a retinue might have had that option, but as general intake, they were never going to have that opportunity.
Not unless six of my sisters happen to drop dead, Olzenya thought.
Feeling a little guilty about how wistful that thought sounded, she settled for sending a betrayed look Marline's way.
"Form up," Instructor Griffith called as the other teams from House Royal clambered out of their own wagons.
They moved promptly, each team quickly aligning itself by height as they moved to stand at attention.
"You are here to learn one of the most basic functions of the marine-knight." Instructor Griffith began, glasses gleaming in the mid-morning sun as she strode up and down the line of cadets. "Limited flight. The same ability that allows a marine-saboteur to board an enemy craft in the heat of battle, or a marine-defender to reinforce an ally in the same instance."
She gestured out to the water. "As you can see, a number of rafts have been set up for you. On top of each is a pole with a hoop attached. By the end of today, we expect you to be able to fly from here, through each of those hoops, before landing on the raft."
A hand went up from a young man in defender armour. "Uh ma'am, I don't think I can swim in this."
Griffith's gaze was utterly dispassionate. "Then I suppose you should learn how to fly quickly. Or failing that, how to use aether to escape the water."
To the side, Olzenya could – predictably – hear William coddling the orc. "Don't worry, it's easier than it sounds. And Griffith's got her own flight suit on. I bet she's got it so she can fish cadets out if they run into trouble."
The human wasn't wrong. Sure, being waterlogged added weight to a suit, but being submerged in water gave you something to 'push off' with your aether-thrusters. Even if you lacked the strength to regain flight, you could still power through the water like a pre-occupation human ram-ship.
"You've done this before," Verity whispered in realization.
"I doubt there's a former-noble here who hasn't." The short-stack said. "It's probably why blondie is so pissy. She was probably expecting something a little more fancy from the fabled Blicland academy."
Olzenya coloured a little as the dwarf perfectly guessed her sentiments.
"Ha, I bet she was hoping we'd be going to the Skeleton today," William chimed in.
She didn't deny it. And it pained her that that was probably what the other houses were currently doing instead of this.
Once more she lamented being placed into House Royal rather than another noble's retinue. And once more she cursed her sister for her vindictiveness.
"Ma'am?" A cadet from another team asked politely. "Will we be taking turns to attempt the course?"
Rather than nod, the Instructor surprised them all by shaking her head. "No, you may all go as often as you wish. You merely need to return to the beach between attempts." She eyed them all. "Other participants will act as an added complication to your flight paths – and I assure you, they will be much easier to dodge than incoming bolts, arrows, spells or shards."
The crowd went silent at that, no doubt ruminating on that thought.
The Instructor nodded, satisfied there were no more questions incoming. "With that, you are all dismissed. You may begin your attempts when ready. I will be watching and recording your results."
With that said, she pulled out a clip-board and moved to stand in the shade of a nearby tree.
As the cadets once more turned into huddled groups, Olzenya saw that William was already explaining the basics to Verity and Bonnlyn.
"You use your time here on the beach to build up pressure in your tank. Thereafter that's going to be your primary propulsion. It's limited, but you can extend that by continuing to refill it in the air as you expend it. Though that'll mean cutting down on how much you maneuver."
As he spoke, he demonstrated by lifting one leg and pushing aether out of both his elbow and his foot, using the specially placed holes and thruster add-ons positioned there. Though he had to stop after a moment, as the action nearly unbalanced him.
"I know." Bonnlyn crossed her arms. "We've had entire lessons on this. The next thing you're going to say is that as you empty your tank, you'll get heavier. Because aether is unnaturally buoyant in air. And while we'll never be lighter than air, because that would impede flight speed, at max capacity the suit should be pretty close to neutrally buoyant."
William was utterly unphased by her tone though – which was a point in his favour. Strange as the human might have been, Olzenya could admit that his distinctly un-aristocratic attitude towards most things meant little rattled or offended him.
Though she pitied his future fiancée. Their confrontation in the cafeteria was still making the rounds of the school nearly two weeks later.
…With that said, it wasn't as if she didn't understand some of the points he'd raised either. She didn't necessarily agree with them all, but she understood them.
"And I'm repeating it now," William continued. "The more aether you expel to propel yourself, the less buoyant you'll become. And the more you'll need to continue to expel to keep yourself in the air. So don't try to 'fly'. Use quick burns and think of it more like a series of jumps with each thrust being a push off point."