Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School

Dragon’s Heart Tower, Level 23, Residence 30. Local Time: 0230 Hours.

2 Hours and 30 Minutes After Emma’s Disappearance

Thacea

“It’ll be alright.” The earthrealmer spoke with that confidence-inspiring bravado. “I’ll be back before you know it. Promise you won’t blow anything up while I’m gone alright?” Rounding off the sentiment with a jab at humor at that.

Perhaps it was her armor hiding any and all physical cues that could be read. Perhaps it was the unknown mechanisms aiding in the translation of her speech that was preventing any sign of distress from surfacing.

Because not a thing, not a single thing, ever once broke her cavalier spirit.

“Remember what I told you over dinner: calm is the ally of the victor, panic is the flatterer of the defeated.” I spoke firmly, maintaining that signature sharp stare befitting of an Avinor of Royal heritage, despite the obvious handicaps present in such an effort. The armor’s tinted lenses made every attempt at this gesture a challenge, as without irises to fixate upon or pupils to peer into, I was left with only my imagination to fill in the empty void that was the earthrealmer’s eyes.

Yet despite that obstacle, I could still feel our gazes connecting through those tinted lenses.

What happened next however, was something I did not expect. As perhaps in making up for her handicaps in the physical space we all took for granted, the earthrealmer without any warning or hint of hesitation, reached for my hands with her own gloved fingers. Those alien digits coated in an equally bizarre material - rubbery, and inlaid with strangely textured bumps and patterns, tightened around my sensitive talons in what most onlookers would call an uncouth gesture of unkempt barbarism, but one that I personally could only describe as an unsolicited gesture of brazen solidarity. A gesture that for all intents and purposes, made the Earthrealmer but one of only a handful of people to have been brave enough to bridge the gap, to not hesitate in making contact with the tainted body belonging to a tainted soul. “Trust me, I’ll be fine.” She reaffirmed with that same strangely textured voice, all the while maintaining an undeniable overture of boldness.

There were… so many more things I wished to say in that instance. A thousand decisions were running through my head, my whole body wishing to react as a fledgling does in flight, to delay and defer… but circumstances demanded an answer. A response had to be given, and only one of several hundred that came to mind felt appropriate despite being the most inappropriate to any other self-respecting member of nobility.

“I will count that as a promise, Emma. Know that knights do not break their word.” I returned with a confident, reassuring tone of voice. Mimicking the strange jocular sense of bravado the human had championed in every single challenging encounter thus far.

That entire exchange happened just a scant few hours ago, a little over midnight.

It was now 2:30 in the midst of night, and the Earthrealmer had yet to have returned.

Tick tick tick.

I watched as the seconds turned into minutes.

Tick tick tick.

Then minutes into hours.

Tick tick tick.

Hours spent on edge.

Tick tick tick.

Hours spent with my heart racing.

Tick tick tick.

Hours spent without a moment of reprieve from my most intrusive of thoughts, and my most flighty of macabre fantasies.

Hours spent desperately trying to curtail the ever encroaching, insidious march of vexing turmoil in any way I could, but finding that none worked.

The warmth of the baths did not help.

Neither did the soothing teas or herbal essences, not that any were known to be of any use before regardless.

Any effort made to assuage the strain of the mental by means of pampering and manipulating the physical, were futile.

Perhaps I subconsciously believed that this time would be different.

Perhaps I was hoping for a complete dissociative detachment through the repetitive rituals associated with the preparation of tea itself, rather than the impalpable effects granted by its consumption.

Perhaps I was just hoping to busy my body and my mind with something, anything to halt that gnawing anxiety associated with being relegated to a flightress-in-waiting.

Because all I could do… the only thing I could do now, was wait.

Wait as the resonance of time tightens towards an ultimate end.

Wait as the impossible results of an unlikely confrontation are revealed.

Wait, as I tried my best to dampen my hopes, for the sake of maintaining realistic expectations.

But I could not.

For dampening my hopes in this particular situation, would imply the mitigation of another’s fate.

And whilst I could always resign myself to a more tempered expectation of my own fate and destiny… I inexplicably found myself incapable of doing so for the fate of someone else.

Someone who had been an actor in my life for scantily a week.

Someone who was by all means a disruption to the passive stability I longed for.

Someone who threatened to upend the tentative circumstances of my place.

Someone who had time and time again demonstrated the fallibility of it all.

A commoner who I saw as my equal.

Perhaps even more than an equal, because for the first time in so long, I found myself in a position where I cared more for the fate of another rather than my own; spitting in the face of everything I was taught to feel about commoners.

I wasn’t supposed to feel anything toward those of muddied lineages and lesser blood, yet I couldn’t stop myself from it even if I wanted to.

I found that every moment spent trying to force myself to relax, was another moment I felt useless.

It was a feeling that was foreign to me, as foreign as the earthrealmer I found myself worrying over.

I found myself unable to sleep, unable to think without a dark overbearing miasma blanketing each and every one of my thoughts.

So I decided on the next logical course of action: a change of pace.

Taking my time in yet again another series of slow, methodical rituals, I blanketed myself in twenty different pieces of silken fabrics, and a robe to top it off for good measure, before walking silently into the shared living area that was our dormitory’s living room.

The mana-fueled fireplace roared as soon as I got near, as it reacted to my presence in the same way it did with everyone, the Earthrealmer being the sole exception to this pattern.

The same went for the windows, as I could feel the push and pull, the ever gentle tugs of the mana-streams connecting with my own mana-field. The windows themselves were capable of changing tint, color, and shade, or even acting as a magnifier to view places so far down below in exquisite breathtaking detail.

Most if not all adjacent realmers would flock to these sorts of novelties like children to toys. All would find it more than intuitive to use.

All, with the sole exception of the Earthrealmer, who lacked even the ability to sense that these latent accouterments even existed.

And while she spoke of being unable to sense the mana-streams, it was not until it was evidenced to me by her inability to even make use of the washrooms without aid from myself, that I finally started to understand.

Emma was for all intents and purposes, blind to more than half of the world around her.

This inability to manipulate the world around her, to even see what is in effect the commonalities of the everyday and the mundane, was something that both worried me and baffled me in equal measures. On one hand, her inability to see and interact made her seem so childlike, and in the eyes of most she more than likely would’ve looked entirely helpless. This was a fact that Qiv and his clique made obvious during our thankfully short-lived encounter. Yet, as Emma had demonstrated time and time again, she made up for this with the mana-less tools and methods that not only compensated for this handicap, but surpassed it by leagues and bounds.

This passing, fleeting thought, was once more tempered by the overbearing reality of the situation. As despite Emma’s capabilities, despite all that she’d demonstrated, if push came to shove and she was faced with the wrath of a black-robed professor-

“Can’t sleep, princess?” A gravely, baritone voice broke me out of my all-consuming reverie, one that was distracting enough to override my typically cautious sensibilities that would’ve otherwise sensed the lupinor prince from half a room away.

Though returning to my typical sensibilities was thankfully, still something I mustered without a moment of delay.

“If I were to be so brazen, I believe that makes two of us, pri-” I paused, catching myself mid-way as I saw the lupinor’s eyes narrowing at that little misstep made in Emma’s absence. “-Thalmin.”

The lupinor prince nodded approvingly of that self-correction, as he joined me next to the large floor to ceiling windows that lined the outward-facing walls.

“You’d be half right there, Princess.” The lupinor prince began, pausing to let out a sigh for good measure, before shuffling his half-open robe somewhat, revealing the half-groomed gray fur underneath. “I’m also taking this opportunity as an excuse to let the Vunerian tucker himself out. It’s far easier to sleep when he’s not his rambunctious self. Or rather, when he’s fast asleep and lacking the conscious ability to hold a conversation.”

“The Vunerian is that talkative in private?” I shot back curiously.

“Quite.” Thalmin spoke with a resonant growl. “Let it be known that my choice of sharing my quarters with that lizard was a sacrifice, and continues to be a sacrifice for as long as he draws breath.” The prince shot back half jokingly, as I simply nodded once in response.

The prince took this sudden bout of silence to carry the conversation forward on his own terms, cocking his head before continuing. “I’m assuming since it’s not the little blue thing that’s keeping you up, it must be something else. Perhaps something to do with our resident newrealmer?”

“Perceptive as always, Thalmin.” I retorted, before I quickly corrected myself. “I apologize, I did not intend for that to sound as defensive as it might have sounded.”

“Oh please, you Aetheronrealmers observe Lingua Regalia, Expectant Decorum, and a thousand other oral cues to such a degree that I find it difficult to see what even constitutes an offense anymore.” The mercenary prince shot back with a hearty laugh. “Suffice it to say, no offense is taken princess, you did not sully my honor with a scant few words. It’ll take a lot more than that to break through this thick skull.” He reached up lazily to his head, making a point to knock on it in a manner that more befitted the mannerisms of a commoner than a noble of Royal standing. “If you sincerely do not wish to talk about what bothers you, I am more than happy to-”

“No, no. It’s alright.” I interjected with a sharp chirp. “I am indeed worried, and frighteningly concerned about this whole situation. In most other instances, in fact in any other context, matters of dispute such as these are relatively simple and straightforward. Indeed, no matter how convoluted the interpersonal drama or political context, there was always a sense of predictability in the manner in which conflicts played out. The uniformity of the Pax Nexica, the standardization of the Nexian Reformations, the unspoken and unwritten systems of Expectant Decorum and the Ties that Bind, all of them can be studied, broken down to their simplest components, and applied to any circumstance. The irony that such a complex and convoluted system had led to this sense of predictability is quite palpable, yes. Yet this… this entire turn of events? Every aspect of it is unprecedented. From the players involved, through to the interests they represent, down to the fundamentals of what they are.” I took a moment to pause, taking in and releasing a series of sharp breaths. “These past five days have been nothing but a consistent series of axiomatic disruptions in not just the status quo, but the very reality we assumed was self-evident. Which means I cannot predict what will happen with any degree of certainty.”

“The system you use to predict these sorts of things all rely on one indispensable factor to always be true, princess.” Thalmin spoke, pausing for effect, clearly waiting for me to shoot back a questioning remark.

“It relies on all actors acting rationally, or at the very least, acting in the best interests of their own stations.” I completed the lupinor’s thought for him, which he responded with a sly, toothy grin.

“Exactly, and the Earthrealmer is the very definition of an actor that does not conform to this fundamental assumption, thus throwing any and all potential for traditional political analysis out the window; the same way we threw the old ruling family out of their windows. Or, should I say our windows.” The prince added with a certain dark cackle at the end of that sentiment.

I didn’t immediately respond following that, as all I could do was to gently nod in affirmation, allowing Thalmin’s words to linger in the air.

The silence continued for just a little while longer, but as the lupinor was prone to do, he wasn’t one to leave things up in the air. His Havenbrockian heritage was quick to reassert itself, although this time, it was clear it was warranted. “I understand where your concern comes from, princess, because I can’t deny that that’s part of why I’m out here in the dead of night after all.” He began, in as sympathetic of a tone as he could, a slight bump in his voice demonstrating that despite the warrior-fueled confidence befitting of a mercenary prince, there was clearly some hints of worry and concern there sweltering underneath it all. “Despite all the Earthrealmer has shown us, there’s always that concern that the cruel and unforgiving world that is the Nexus will just swallow her whole, novel artifices and all. That concern is real, and it’s reasonable enough to have. However, I think that by allowing these concerns to flourish, we would be doing a disservice to the Earthrealmer’s capabilities.” Thalmin concluded. “So what I propose we do is rest. So that we can give the Earthrealmer a hero’s welcome when she returns.” He continued, planting both hands to his hips in a triumphant pose.

The lupinor’s eyes met my own throughout that brief spiel, and in doing so, I couldn't help but to be at least somewhat affected by that havenbrockian zeal. “You have a point, Thalmin. However, whether or not I will be able to temper my resolve to that of a warrior’s stalwart spirit, remains to be seen.”

“You give yourself too little credit, princess. If anything, by surviving the gauntlet that has become the grace period, you’ve demonstrated more resolve than the typical adjacent royal, and I mean that in the most respectful way of course.”

We locked eyes for a moment, before turning both of our gazes back towards the scenery that would’ve been all but incredible for the likes of the plains-dwelling Thalmin, but incredibly banal to any Aetheronrealmer worth their flight feathers.

“I’m sure she’ll return sooner than we expect, princess.” Thalmin reasserted, which when coupled with the Havenbrockian zeal, was enough to give me pause for thought. “I’m sure of it.”

Dragon’s Heart Tower, Level 23, Residence 30. Local Time: 0730 Hours.

7 Hours and 30 Minutes After Emma’s Disappearance

Thalmin

Hope was always a mixed bag. When utilized appropriately and sparingly, it was a frighteningly effective tool to shore up morale, a means by which to rally the banners for one last hoorah where time and patience were the only things separating victory from a complete route. When implemented incorrectly and with external factors complicating the mix, it not only proved to be ineffective, but a compounding factor contributing to the loss of trust, faith, and morale that would turn a simple route into an all out collapse of whatever force you commanded.

But this wasn’t a war.

Nor was it a situation where the martial could be applied across the board.

Still, the effects of a falsified hope were universal.

At least, it was universal enough to prompt me to feel an overwhelming sense of guilt as I made my way out of the bedroom with groggy eyes and stuffy ears, to find the princess almost exactly where she was the night before.

And with a distinct lack of any signs of the earthrealmer, a pit slowly but surely began to form within my iron stomach.

That runt inside my mind wanted nothing more than to remain silent, to keep my mouth shut, to stop myself from hurting the situation anymore than I had already done.

It… hurt to speak, to address one’s failures. To face oneself head on felt like I was back in the proving dens, trying to speak with an iron muzzle affixed to my face.

Though metaphorical, the weight felt real, as I internally struggled to find the strength to move my maw for what should have been a simple act.

“I take it Emma has not returned.” I stated a matter-of-factly, with that voice that wasn’t my own, with a forced confidence that bordered on the ludicrous. The gnawing desire to simply scurry off still very much there, but tempered by the resolve imbued from years of training and months in the proving grounds.

“No.” The avinor princess responded with that same, decidedly cautious tone of voice. Never dipping too far into outright defeatism, but never once stepping into the realm of the optimistic either.

That response tore into me harder than a flight of arrows ever could. If there ever was an avatar of the diplomatic warrior, then it would be this avinor. For it was clear that a lifetime of living with a social handicap that was taint, had sharpened even her most passive of words into daggers capable of slicing through even the toughest of barriers.

“We shouldn’t give up hope just yet princess-”

“I’m not giving up hope.” The princess interjected, killing my hastily formed response before it even had a chance to walk. “But the time for waiting is over.” She quickly added, her determined gaze not once flinching, not once faltering despite the obvious hours of sleep that she’d missed up to this point. “The time has come for us to take the initiative.”

“What do you suggest we do?” I shot back.

“We find her, through official channels and self-directed means, we have to make the effort.”

A sense of renewed direction filled me at that proclamation, as I couldn’t help but to unsheathe a toothy smile at that. “That is a sentiment I can reciprocate, princess. Where do you suggest we head first?”

“Breakfast.”

“Well, I can’t deny that a hearty meal before a long day is what will-”

“I don’t intend on focusing on sustenance, Thalmin. I intend on seeing exactly who appears on the Professors’ table, and if we are able to gain an audience with them through the rights of personal privilege, this is the best place to start.”

The Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts, Grand Dining Hall. Local Time: 1045 Hours.

10 Hours and 45 Minutes After Emma’s Disappearance

Thacea

I’ve had more than my fair share of meals wherein the threats to my life and legacy sat across from me with all the pretenses and properness of a cordial acquaintance. This breakfast was no different. As my eyes were squarely locked onto the Professor’s table, all the while my ears continued to dull out the Vunerian’s incessant ramblings.

Every member of the faculty was present, with the sole exception of the black robed professor, along with a certain apprentice.

It took nearly three hours for the charade to be over, and by that time I’d positioned myself outside of the halls, in between the blue-robed professor and his intended destination. “Professor Vanavan.” I spoke softly, bowing with my head held slightly angled to my heart, and my arm placed across my chest, my talons gripping my shoulder tight, a practiced motion that was appropriate for the man’s standing. “I humbly wish to invoke my right of personal privilege, on the grounds a violation of collective integrity incurred upon my peer group.”

The surprisingly young male nodded once in reply, his facial features reading as genuinely perplexed, as I counted five seconds before rising from my bowed posture. “We haven’t yet solidified houses yet and you’re already claiming violations of your collective integrity, young lady?”

“I humbly defer my grievances to the exceptional circumstances stemming from the unique disposition of the members of my peer group, Professor Vanavan.” I shot back, eliciting a questioning raise of a brow, but not much more.

“Inferring from this, I assume this has something to do with the newrealmer?”

“Yes Professor.” I stated curtly, which seemed to elicit a genuine look of concern from the man. Something I was not expecting from any Nexian, let alone an elf of high standing such as the Assistant Dean.

“Walk with me, if you would please.” The man responded just as abruptly, as I found myself accompanying the professor to his office, Thalmin trailing close behind as Ilunor had once more vanished from sight.

The Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts, Faculty Tower, The Offices of the Assistant Dean Offices. Local Time: 1445 Hours.

14 Hours and 45 Minutes After Emma’s Disappearance

Thacea

Pleasantries were exchanged for the most part, and after we’d arrived at the man’s office, we were forced to wait a solid two hours before he’d see us. Though considering our place within the social sphere, the wait was more than reasonable, at least by Nexian standards.

What was not reasonable was the wishy-washy back and forths between myself and the blue-robed Professor, as the unpleasant, and rather rude presumptions on his office was revealed to me one conversation at a time.

The man was nothing but a pliable placeholder. Inhabiting a role that exists solely to facilitate the whims of the office he was second to, and acting nothing more than a figurehead to lay out one’s grievances, perhaps tricking a few lesser adjacent realmers into believing progress was in fact made due to his title and that alone.

But it quickly became clear to me that the man was nothing more than a Chancellor to a Duke, or a Prime Minister to a King. The title was there, but the authority was not.

Still, I spent those two hours committed. Like a hawk having sunken its talons into its prey, I did not relent. Until finally, the man was freed from his duties by yet another of the faculty, the red-robed Belnor interrupted our conversation, prying the man from my talons and into the waiting embrace of some meaningless meeting.

We ended up outside the professor’s office with what felt like progress made, but that I knew was little progress at all.

“He… was far more forthcoming than I’d initially assumed would be possible Thacea.” Thalmin spoke, as I put up a privacy screen whilst staring blankly at the town below. “You did exceptional work with-”

“Four hours and not one step closer towards our goal, Thalmin.” I muttered out in defeat. “The man’s nothing more than a seat warmer atop a throne.”

“Surely four hours with an assistant dean is enough to warrant some manner of faculty response?”

“Potentially, possibly. I could sense some personal agenda there, but considering the man’s fortitude, I doubt he will actually act on it.”

“So what now?”

“We need to pursue other avenues of discourse, perhaps narrow down the whereabouts of Apprentice Larial. Emma did mention that she holds a life debt to her, did she not? We may be able to utilize that as adjacent benefactors of Emma’s debts owing to her absence.” I managed out, garnering a look of introspective thought from the likes of Thalmin.

“We’d be running around the castle trying to track down one individual then.”

“Considering the alternative, which is sitting around for fate to hand us our peer, I do not see an issue with this.”

Thalmin took a few moments to consider those words carefully, before pressing on. “We were able to evade detection to see the Earthrealmer’s arrival were we not?”

“Yes, that was decidedly a rather brash decision on your part and a challenge that you likewise imposed upon the Vunerian, but I was genuinely surprised we were able to get as far as we did then.”

“Let’s do that again, except this time, we’ll peer into as many areas of the castle as we can.”

“Are you certain that’s wise?”

“Wise? Perhaps not. But is it a necessary step in ascertaining the whereabouts of our friend? Absolutely.”

With two plans in motion, with a similar trajectory, it was clear we had a path ahead for the rest of the day.

“So we both have our own assignments for the day?”

Thalmin nodded, maintaining that ever confident grin of his all the while.

“We meet for dinner in the grand hall, then we continue our efforts through the night.”

The Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts, Grand Dining Hall. Local Time: 1945 Hours.

19 Hours and 45 Minutes After Emma’s Disappearance

Thalmin

Exhaustion threatened to give away my afternoon’s antics. I was thankful then, that my training in the proving grounds made it so that the masking of such obvious signs of physical strain was very much second nature. Though that was nothing to say of the mental exhaustion that had begun taking its toll.

Arriving at our table, and seeing Thacea’s visage still piercing and determined, her eyes squarely focused on the professor’s table once more… it was clear none of us were getting any closer to our goal.

The weight of the pressures started growing increasingly unbearable with each and every passing hour.

Though from the outside, I doubted anyone could’ve told that was the case, given the facades we held in the midst of a hundred other facades.

“Any progress?” I muttered out after deploying a privacy screen.

“No.”

“Then we’ll keep searching until curfew hits.”

“That’s the plan, Thalmin.”

Dragon’s Heart Tower, Level 23, Residence 30. Local Time: 0300 Hours.

27 Hours After Emma’s Disappearance

Thacea

An entire day. It had been an entire day and a good part of a night that Emma had gone missing.

We’d tried everything we were capable of, from physical scouting to magical surveys, Thalmin and I did everything we could think of. Yet there was no sign of the earthrealmer.

Exhaustion threatened to take me, but fear and anxiety were powerful wards against the ever encroaching specter of fatigue.

“We will resume the search in the morning, Thacea.” Thalmin spoke, approaching me as he did the night prior, gilded robes and all.

“I can only hope that this sunrise will be shared between all of us.” I replied without much in the way of emotive effect, as my eyes remained fixated on the only point of interest this late into the night.

No sooner did I say that, did my benign point of fixation suddenly change. It was bizarre, almost imperceptible to most in the day save for avinors gifted with sharp sight, but in the dead of night… This sudden display of brilliant light was obvious to even those who lacked the sight of an avinor or lupinor.

“Thalmin, did you see that? From the town?”

The lupinor hadn’t yet found the words, before an earth-shaking rumble suddenly made its presence known through the epochs-old stones of the castle. This was subsequently followed by a sizable rumble, audible throughout the previously dead and silent air.

None of us spoke, not a single one of us dared to vocalize anything at all as we eventually saw evidence that would prove that neither of us were suffering from exhaustion-derived delusions… as smoke and wisps of vibrant light began billowing out slowly from the far side of the town.

Dragon’s Heart Tower, Level 23, Residence 30. Local Time: 0340 Hours.

27 Hours and 40 Minutes After Emma’s Disappearance

Thacea

Neither of us moved from the spot, even as we heard the tell-tale signs of a crowd forming at the far end of the hall, more than likely concentrating near the small lounge that nobody to this point had bothered to occupy.

Unbridled fear permeated the both of us, as rich, turbulent streams of mana emanated from the source of the explosion, followed by the appearance of a beast that had only appeared a handful of times in tomes back home.

We were glued to the glass, our eyes witnessing what our minds could not process, before finally, we heard the sudden thwack of the front door slamming open.

There, with light from the halls casting a wide shadow of the figure occupying its frame, was the armored earthrealmer.

We looked at each other from across the wide gap that was the room.

Neither of us moved, neither of us spoke, but as the door behind the human slammed shut, so too did the world suddenly feel as if it’d caved in on itself.

It was there that my talons began to move on their own, as I walked forward, wordlessly, towards the armored human who remained as still as the statues that flanked the grand halls.

There, I found myself staring up into the human’s eyes through her opaque lenses.

I couldn't say anything, words refused to come to neither mind nor beak as my breath hitched up higher and higher, until finally, I felt that strangely textured glove on my back, and the weight of an entire world lifted off my shoulders along with it.

“Knights don’t break their word, right?” I heard the strangely textured voice that was distinctly Emma come through, and with it, a warmth that threatened to swallow me whole.