Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School

Ten minutes had passed since the start of this journey, and the forest was already starting to thin out into something that more resembled quiet, peaceful, rural farmlands.

Although this whole ride was anything but peaceful.

My mind had been preoccupied with my unexpected displacement in time, but more concerningly, the impact it had on the whole crate predicament and the timer that ticked closer and closer towards an inevitable oblivion.

Though thankfully, I still had options open to me, which meant I could do more than just sit around worrying. I was doing everything I could to make up for lost time, to make sure I would have all the intel necessary to carry out the final leg of this operation the instant I stepped foot into town.

My drones were helping me in that venture; all three of them. My eyes were glued to each and every one of their flight-patterns as they zipped across open skies, through a disconcertingly empty airspace.

It was wild to see just how empty everything was here. Whereas every square inch of Earth’s airspace across every imaginable altitude was sectioned off into hundreds of thousands of partitions… nothing like that existed here. It was just empty skies, save for the occasional flock of birds or strange magical artifice that whizzed by every minute or so.

This made making a mad-dash towards the town relatively simple, as the flight of drones kept at their full speed, destined to triangulate the signal to a precise location and tasked with mapping out the local area as best as they could. This would give me a local map and rudimentary directions when I reached the town, expediting my rush towards wherever the heck the crate currently was.

But why’d it have to be in the fucking town of all places? I thought to myself, quietly hoping that it wasn’t in any central or residential location. Because if it did go off… in the middle of night at that…

I didn’t even want to imagine the collateral or the fallout that would result from that disaster.

I was practically glued to my HUD before a series of successive dings coming from my cabin door completely derailed my train of thought. This was followed abruptly by a soft, skittish voice belonging to that of Lord Lartia’s aide. “Excuse the intrusion, Cadet Emma Booker, but Lord Lartia requests your presence in the main parlor.”

It still boggled my mind how this whole… traincar was arranged. Because it literally was just that, a train car, complete with individual cabins, and a large parlor where the main entrance was located.

I took a moment to compose myself with an inward sigh, before getting up and out of my seat, and towards that folding door.

There was nothing else I could do with the drones anyways. They were more or less on their own now, and any attempt at trying to play Reconnaissance Drone Operator would inevitably lead to a worse result than what the smart adaptive systems (SAS) were capable of when left to their own devices. Besides, the battlefield management system would ping me if any urgent orders were needed, and it wasn’t like I needed an excuse to shut myself off from the world to address those issues if it came to it.

Opening that folding door, I was met with the sight of the short, hooded elf; who stood about a head shorter than my out of suit height. She looked at me pleasantly enough, not showing any signs of being bothered by the hulking mass of metal nor the two unwavering lenses that stared down at her.

“Are the accommodations to your liking, Cadet Emma Booker?” The young woman spoke in what could only be described as a more genuine version of your typical customer service tone of voice.

“Yeah, thank you. I don’t really see the need for it considering this whole ride is supposed to take a half hour, but I appreciate the gesture, and the privacy.” I acknowledged with a single nod.

“It’s our pleasure, my lady. We pride ourselves in a strict adherence to social decorum. Now, if you’ll follow me.” She began ‘leading the way’ towards the parlor… which was again, excessive and completely unnecessary given it was just 20 feet away from the narrow corridors flanked on both sides by rooms and cabins.

Entering the parlor, I still felt the same strange offness I felt the moment I entered the carriage.

And it wasn’t the fact that the interior space was giving the EVI another non-euclidean error-ridden panic attack.

Nor was it because of the small gaggle of bards in the corner of the traincar-sized space that serenaded us with music befitting a Castles and Wyverns session.

It wasn’t even because of the impossible smoothness of the ride that stood in stark contrast to the bumpy ups and downs clearly seen through the windows.

It was because-

“Ah! Where are my manners! Would you care for some tea, Cadet Emma Booker? Perhaps some twilight tonic? I must apologize for the limited offerings I have on stock. The royal warrant for this venture came as an unexpected and abrupt urgent request; we scarcely had enough time to reorganize our stores for this impromptu journey!”

It was because everyone, from the aide to the Lord himself, was playing nice.

“No, no, I’m fine, thanks. I can’t really drink, let alone eat in this thing, so I’m afraid I’m going to have to pass on all of that, thanks.” I managed out as best I could given the weight of the world bearing down on me.

“Ah, I see! Apologies if I have transgressed in any way, Cadet Emma Booker! I did not realize you were under a vow of seclusion, or an oath of knightly resolve.”

“Excuse me, a what-now?”

“A vow of seclusion or an oath of knightly resolve.” He reiterated with a smile. “I assume the reason why you refuse the hostly courtesies of expectant decorum to be due to your commitments to higher values overruling the appropriate responses of a guest.” The elf continued before suddenly, and abruptly, shifting his course in the conversation once more. “However if both of my assumptions are incorrect, I must apologize for any infractions incurred to your personal honor, Cadet Emma Booker. It would seem as if my transgressions know no bounds on this fair night! Your culture is completely unknown to me, so I wish to be as accommodating as possible in order to best represent the courtesy of a host. Even if my extension of courtesy is indeed bound to just this small jaunt from the forest to the village, it is still in my honor and within the bounds of expectant decorum to be civil in such exchanges.”

“I…” I stuttered out, before halting halfway. Part of me was just too thrown off by the complete tonal whiplash to really continue. Another part of me was just too tired to come up with any witty banter given the newfound pressures of the shortened countdown timer taking up the majority of my headspace.

“Have I spoken something to warrant a vow of silence, Cadet Emma Booker?” The man continued, as I still struggled to find words to appropriately respond with.

He was supposed to be a noble… right?

“Cadet Emma Booker?” The man’s aide interjected, snapping me out of my reverie and back into reality once more.

“Oh, erm, sorry. I apologize. It’s just… it’s been quite a long day.”

“I imagine it must have been, the dispatching of a beast of unknown origin, and one which eludes even the town’s adventurers, must have been quite draining!”

“Yeah, it was, which reminds me… do you mind if I ask you a few things about it?”

“Of course! By all means!”

“Right, well, just before you arrived, the thing was actually talking to me. Though, talking is probably not the best word for this. Its eyes glowed this sort of yellow color, and it sounded like something was speaking through it. I was wondering if you knew what that was all about?”

“Ah. The forest. I must beg your pardon on behalf of the Nexus, Cadet Emma Booker. It is not often that it chooses to directly interact with an outsider. But when it does, it usually does so through an intermediary. It would seem as if that beast just so happened to be one of its intermediaries.” The man explained simply, but also in a manner that made it clear he didn’t want to touch on the topic any further. “But let’s let bygones be bygones, are you sure you are not at all injured by that beast, Cadet Emma Booker?”

“Eh, the beast wasn’t really the thing that shook me up. It’s the whole portal situation to be quite honest” paused, before snickering. “It’s not everyday I fall headfirst into a portal that spits me out the other side a full day in the future.”

“Ah, that’s quite understandable Cadet Emma Booker. Once more, I must apologize if my insistence on maintaining polite conversation is at all at odds with your current physical disposition.” The man responded with a polite smile, before leaning back into the thick plush seats that reminded me of those overly ornate leather lounge chairs from the Victorian era. “Spatial dislocation and chronological displacement are both elements of the magical arts that can disorient even the most seasoned of apprentices. The fact that you remain so well put together, literally and figuratively, to the point where you managed to dispatch with that beast speaks volumes to the tenacity of your spirit and the constitution of your kind.” He continued on, speaking with what I could only describe as a genuine tone of approval and appreciation. “Both are qualities which I can most confidently say are self-evident by the dedication in the craftsmanship of your newrealmer attire.”

“Thank you.” I managed out, taking a moment to crane my head around the carriage, just to buy me some time to come up with something to say. “You’re right by the way.” I began, causing the elf in front of me to perk a brow up in response. “You could say I’m under something of a vow, to not remove the armor I mean. It’s… a very complicated affair that I can’t get into right now. But suffice it to say, you have my thanks for being understanding about it and for not digging into it further.”

“Oh but of course! It would be in poor taste for people of our standing to be at each other’s throats instead of extending as much courtesy to one another as possible.” The man spoke as if he was referring to some unspoken comradery that existed between us, which just threw me off even further.

“Our standing, Lord Lartia?” I shot back almost immediately.

“Indeed. If you will entertain my presumptuous tenacity, I take it that you are a member of something analogous to what we refer to as the Entrusted Nobility.”

“I’m not quite sure what that actually implies.”

A slight pause soon followed, as the man took a moment to look me up and down, his warm eyes complementing his polite complexion. Yet I couldn’t shake the feeling of something being off about him.

“I’m going to tread into dangerous waters by making this assumption, Emma Booker, but I assume that your experience at the Academy thus far has been… less than stellar?”

“You could say that there’s a certain level of inconsistency in how certain individuals interpret their noble decorum around me, yes.” I replied diplomatically.

“Hmm. Typical.” The man responded in an uncharacteristically snappy tone of voice. Something I hadn’t at all expected given his verboseness so far. “This is very much typical, to no fault of your own, of course.” He took a moment to reach for a piping hot liquid held up by a precarious looking glass stem, taking a slow calculating sip, before continuing. “You must forgive the rest of these… otherrealmer scum, Cadet Emma Booker.” The intensity in his voice hitched up without warning, the tonal whiplash he was giving off was honestly reaching peak levels. “They merely mime and mimic what they see, and boast and bluster beyond their capacity. They resent those not of landed standing, such as you or I, Cadet Emma Booker. Which is why your presence here, if my presumptions are correct, is utterly fascinating. For you see it is quite unusual for an adjacent realm, and a newrealm at that, to send over a candidate not of some landed status. The fact your realm sent you of all people speaks volumes to the type of civilization we might expect from you, candidate.”

A small silence interrupted his speech, as he took that time to take yet another sip from that glass, as if he was expecting a response to validate his claims.

I took a few moments to fully consider everything he was saying so far, a lot of it which had serious repercussions on the political landscape of the Nexus. The existence of more than one type of noble, and what seemed to be clearly defined sociocultural lines between said types of nobles, was huge in and of itself. But it was the terminology being used that really pointed at what these differences could be, and what the guy could be assuming about me.

Landed versus Entrusted.

I looked around me, at the interior of the carriage, at the man’s aide, even at the gaggle of bards in the far corner of the room… before it hit me.

“You said you were under a royal warrant.” I spoke out loud.

“Correct, Cadet Emma Booker.”

“And that you’re heading to the town because of a courier mission.”

“Correct, again.” The elf spoke affirmatively, nodding with a warm smile.

“I’m going to assume that your definition of Entrusted Nobility, has something to do with members of the nobility, whose noble status aren’t bound to land like the Landed Nobility, but are instead bound to some Royal commission or an appointed role, status, or something like that?”

This caused the elf to perk a brow up in excitement. “Close enough, Cadet Emma Booker. The Entrusted Nobility are those of noble birth whose families have no claim to lands significant enough to constitute the establishment of landed holdings such as Duchies, Kingdoms, and so on and so forth. Instead, our titles are granted to us by our Entrusted holdings, holdings which range from anything from manufactoriums, through to unique family-held services.”

This added a layer of complexity to the Nexus that I didn’t need right now, but that I knew the EVI was hurriedly storing away for our intelligence reports.

That still doesn’t address the elephant in the room though…

“And you’re under the assumption that I hold that equivalent title back home?”

“Well yes.”

“Why?”

“It is obvious is it not?” The man shot back with a hint of incredulity, coupled with a slight chuckle.

It was only when I refused to elaborate further that he finally gave me a solid, reasonable answer.

“It is everything about you, Cadet Emma Booker, starting from your armor.” He raised both hands in front of me, gesturing to every possible angle of my armor. “No commoner would be able to afford such fineries, and no landed noble would be caught dead wearing it lest it is a punishment enforced upon them. Secondly, it is the manner by which you carry yourself, more specifically your title. No commoner would dare use titles preceding their name in interactions with a high-born, and no landed noble would be caught using merited titles, let alone in a first interaction. Thirdly, is your propensity to put merit first. You did not boast, nor did you point to the dispatched beast as a justification of your character. You merely let such things speak for themselves. Finally, and perhaps most telling of all, is your oath of knightly resolve. Such acts of humility are impossible to find within the ranks of the landed nobility, but are gestures of great fortitude befitting of the Entrusted Nobility.” The man ended off his whole tirade with an overly confident grin on his face. “So tell me, how accurate were my assertions, Lady Emma Booker?”

I felt as if my very soul had been grappled and ripped from my core as the elf chose to attach that honorific to my name. It just felt wrong on so, so many levels.

Especially with the baggage that title carried here in the Nexus.

I had to take a moment to steady myself before responding.

“I’m… actually not a noble, Lord Lartia.” I responded plainly, but as politely as I could.

To say that his facial features completely changed the moment those words left my mouth would’ve been an understatement, as that formerly chipper and polite demeanor was completely thrown out. There was still politeness there, sure, but the genuine kindness that had colored his light brown cheeks had departed so quickly that he looked as if he’d become a completely different person altogether.

“Ah.” Was his first response, and even with just that, I could tell the man’s mood had completely changed. “Well, my apologies then, Cadet Emma Booker.” He started correcting his course, even taking the time to clear his throat as the tint of kindness in his eyes started following the same trend as the rest of his face.

A guard quickly approached from behind him, coming out from one of the many doors recessed into the walls, on a direct trajectory towards me.

Before he could do anything though, Lartia raised a single hand, lazily, and without much effort. The life seemingly gone from even his physical gestures. “No, that won’t be necessary.” He spoke with a tired sigh.

“But my lord, the commoner is sitting on upholstery intended for highborns-”

“I said, that won’t be necessary, Fabian.” Lartia reiterated now with a soft hiss.

“Yes my lord.” The guard quickly left without a fuss, leaving just me and the elf alone yet again.

“It is no fault of your own that you sit there, in a space designated for highborns, Cadet Emma Booker. It is also of no fault of your own that you have been given highborn accommodations. It would be unbecoming of me to punish you for my own lack of foresight, and my own foolishness. I should’ve inquired first with regards to your heritage. However, considering you are a student of the Transgracian Academy, I nominally assumed you were of some noble heritage.” The man shrugged, speaking to me in what could only be described as a dismissive, almost disappointed tone of voice.

“With that being said, I believe it is best that we cut our conversation short. I have nothing further to discuss with you, and I permit you to retire to the quarters set aside for you. You will not be relegated to the commoner’s section, do not worry. I am a man of my word, and a man standing steadfast by my decisions, even if this particular decision has led me to a horrible social faux pas. I apologize if I treated you as an equal, Cadet Emma Booker. I did not wish to infer such violations of Noble Decorum.” He began pinching the bridge of his nose, taking a moment to openly sigh, before turning towards me once more. “Do you have something else to discuss, Cadet Emma Booker?”

“…no, I think we’re done here.” Was all I said as I got up and left for my cabin.

I knew there was something to the whole act, and my gut finally got something right this time around.

There was just under ten minutes left before we arrived, and I figured now was as good a time as any to check up on the drones. Just before I could settle back into my cabin however, I was once again interrupted by a series of soft taps on the door. Not the same dings as before, but quiet, almost imperceptible taps.

I stared at the door, my eyes narrowing as I saw the lock unlatching, before I saw the shy, nervous eyes of the aide staring up at me.

I sighed outwardly, and loudly, making an effort to actually emote through the layers of composites and nanoweave. “What is it now? Has my great host decided to change his mind on that offer? Does he want me to walk the rest of the way to town, or-”

“I… I’m actually here against the Lord’s wishes, my lady.” The elf interjected meekly.

“You don’t have to call me that you know.” I quickly corrected the aide. “It’s not like there’s any need any more now that the cat’s out of the bag.”

This seemed to prompt the elf to begin bowing in apologetics, her eyes quickly averting from my two lenses as she did so. “If it pleases my lady for me to stop, then it shall be done. Is there a title you would have me use in its place?”

“Forget titles, I don’t even know your name.” I responded, cocking my head to the side. “Maybe we should start with that?” I tried tempering my voice down somewhat, giving the young elf a chance, even if her boss had more or less thrown polite dialogue out the window just a few moments ago.

“My name?” The elf parotted back with a twinge of disbelief. “Of course. I am Trade-Apprentice Lartia-siv, serving under the masterful tutelage of my Lord Lartia.”

“You’re Lord Lartia’s daughter?” I responded with yet another head cock.

“Ah, sorry! I had assumed you knew of our customs, but I had forgotten that you are a newrealmer. My humblest of apologies.” The elf once more bowed apologetically. “I am not Lord Lartia’s daughter, Cadet Emma Booker. I am but a common apprentice. I understand my name might cause some confusion, but it is expected practice for Trade-Apprentices to relinquish their own name for the duration of their apprenticeship, instead taking on the name of our masters, and adding a suffix to denote our rank within the apprenticeship.” The young elf explained succinctly. However, despite speaking with a clear tone of certainty, I could still hear some reluctance and disdain in her voice. As if she had something else to say, but just didn’t want to say it.

“So, what about your name before all of this?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Your name, prior to this whole apprenticeship thing. What did you call yourself then?”

“I don’t think the master would approve of-”

“I don’t care what he would approve or disapprove of. Your name is your own, now it’s your choice if you want to reveal it to me or not. I’m just asking after all.”

“Erm… my name was Rila.”

“Okay, so, what would you rather me call you then?”

The elf took the time to actually pause and think about this, her eyes showing signs of internal turmoil, as seconds, then an entire minute passed before she responded with a quiet whisper.

“Rila. I… I want you to call me Rila, if that’s alright with you, Cadet Emma Booker.”

I took a deep breath and nodded. “Rila it is then. So, Rila, what did you want to talk to me about?”

That question seemed to send the elf into a bit of a nervous frenzy, as she looked all around her before entering the small cabin, and closing the door shut behind her. “I… I just wanted to ask, as a commoner… from one commoner to another… how… how are you able to be so confident in the presence of a noble? I… I understand that you may be in some manner of armed force, given your rank and your armor, but even the most seasoned of warriors buckle under the pressure of a one on one audience with a noble. I cannot for the life of me comprehend just how you were able to hold your own without once relinquishing a single inch of your own pride and honor. I have been in Lord Lartia’s service for just under 15 years now, and even after nearly two decades, I still find it difficult to maintain eye contact with a highborn for longer than I am permitted to. How do you do it, Cadet Emma Booker? How do you act as if you are equals? How-”

“Simple. It’s because we are equals, Rila.” I stopped the elf before she could even continue, as I spoke without a hint of hesitation, as if it was something that needed to be said before anything else. “Everything else just stems from that.”

“But… you’re not equals. You’re a commoner, like me-”

“Where I come from, the distinctions you get are all earned. If you’re military? That’s rank. If you’re an academic? That’s also rank. If you’re a civil servant? Rank again. And all ranks are earned. Even then, outside of your profession and or command structure, everyone’s equal. Respect between people is something that’s earned, it’s not something you’re born with. That’s just how I was raised, and those are the values I hold.”

The hooded elf remained standing in place for a few solid seconds after that, her eyes shifting from disbelief, then as she listened on, mellowing out into a curious intrigue, before she finally landed on a look I wasn’t expecting.

A look of pining for something better than the world she knew.

“That… sounds like an impossible place.” She admitted. “But it sounds like a really nice place as well.” I could sense that the elf was still skeptical, not fully grasping the nature of my world as truth like just about every other inhabitant of the Nexus. But unlike my other encounters, something was different about this one, as her gaze seemed to drift into a daydreaming state of reverie; letting out a longing sigh that ended with a soft laugh. “I would like to visit such a world some day.” She spoke with gratitude in her voice as she held up the sides of her hood, draping it over her face a moment after. “Thank you, Cadet Emma Booker.” Rila spoke confidently, following it up with a respectful bow. “Thank you for letting me know the existence of such a fantastical place.”

It was at that point that I knew I had to do something, and so with a few minutes left on the clock before we reached the town, I got up from my seat to place both of my hands on her shoulders. “It’s only fantastical because this place makes it seem that way.” I managed out with a smile. “And hey, who knows, maybe one day right? We’ll see how things go.” The elf looked up at me with an expectant gaze, before suddenly, the cart came to a halt, as the both of us looked out the cabin window to see the town’s guard houses looming over us. “I guess this is my stop. But, hey, this doesn’t mean this is our last talk, right?”

The elf looked up quizzically, before nodding with enthusiasm. “The master comes through the town at least once a month. So perhaps this can be the first of many conversations. I would love to hear more of this world of yours Cadet Emma Booker, even if it is more of a fantastical tale than an actual place. I am eager to mayhaps learn the ways of your resolve through these parables.” The elf managed out, still flip flopping from belief to disbelief. She’d need more time to process this, and time was something I was quickly running out of.

“I’ll be looking forward to it.” I spoke, but before I was able to leave the cabin, I felt the elf grabbing my hand tightly.

“Wait, before you go, take this.” She reached to grab what looked to be a small pearl affixed to a leather bracelet, before placing it in my hands. “It’ll let you know when I’m in town, or in close proximity.”

“Are you sure you want to give me something like this? This looks expensive and I wouldn't want to-”

“I have plenty to spare. It’s relatively inexpensive, all things considered. I mean, not really, but it’s something that I’m willing to part with for another sure-fire chance of meeting you, Cadet Emma Booker.”

With one final exchange of smiles, my own hidden beneath a thick layer of metal, I promptly left the cabin. Walking through the now-empty parlor, Lord Lartia nowhere in sight, I landed with no fanfare on the streets of the town.

“EVI, time?”

“25 Minutes and 47 Seconds remaining, Cadet Emma Booker.”

“Alright then.” I spoke with a fiery determination, quickly pocketing the leather bracelet into one of my pouches. “Let’s finish this.”