Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School

This was one of those times where my helmet was doing me a disservice, because the expressions currently forming beneath it were more than enough to convey all of my feelings on the Vunerian’s accusations.

I had to compensate for my helmet’s encumbrance by just slightly over exaggerating what little emotive ability I had left. Namely, through my use of words, tone of voice, and most underappreciated and overlooked of all… body language.

“Because of me?” I responded indignantly, leaning my upper body forward, whilst gripping both armrests tight. “You’re telling me that this was somehow my fault?” I paused, cocking my head to the side before letting out a loud chuff. “Alright then. I’ll bite.” I leaned back just a bit, alleviating, but not fully releasing the tension in the air. “I’m going to assume you have some damn good reasons behind that leap in logic. Or at least, what sounds like it. Because if you’re just spouting nonsense for nonsense’s sakes then you’re a heck of a lot more foolish than what I took you for.”

I let that hang in the air for a while, before shifting forward again to reapply the pressure. “Now, I know you have your personal reservations against me, and I know I probably stand against a lot of what you inherently believe in by virtue of my mere existence. But I also know you consider yourself a player in the greater game. And no player worth their mettle or gilded titles is going to be spouting out rehashed rhetoric at a time where their very fate is on the line. Because I highly doubt you’re the type to double down on the crap you’ve been spouting when all the chips are down. You seem smarter than that, Ilunor. So tell me then. Explain to me how and why you were ordered to go full Fahrenheit 451 because of me.”

To Ilunor’s credit, he didn’t budge an inch as I brought my full weight to bear. In fact, he seemed as composed as he was when he effortlessly flipped his persona back at the armory. There was a hint of fear in his eyes, though I couldn’t tell if that was because of me, or because of this whole mess he was now embroiled in.

Regardless, after giving my tirade its deserved airtime in silence, he eventually did respond. “You are correct in distinguishing rhetoric from the practical concerns of the greater game, newrealmer.” His eyes sharpened further, trying his best to maintain eye contact through my opaque lenses. “This is an important distinction to make, and one that even those amongst our ranks seem to struggle with at times.”

There it was again.

Another glimpse at Ilunor’s courteous side.

Or at least, the closest thing to courtesy that I’d experienced from him so far, alongside the help with the chair.

“Suffice it to say, newrealmer, my benefactor was under a similar pretense when considering his options with you. For rhetoric would dictate that you have nothing to offer and thus nothing to fear from, at least, as it pertains to your interactions with the library.” He paused, before gesturing correctly to the pouch I had my card stored in. “Yet reality says otherwise.”

The Vunerian paused, taking a deep breath as he leaned back against his chair with a satisfying plumpf.

“In short, my benefactor acted in the way he did out of a universal motivator even you would understand. A motivator so primitive, so primal, that even the most stalwart of souls will find it difficult to act any differently under its vice grip.” Ilunor leveled his eyes my way once more, his gaze remaining nothing short of heavy and severe. “Simply put, my benefactor acted out of fear, newrealmer. He was terrified of the threat you posed, and mortified of what you could do if given the opportunity.”

I opened my mouth to respond, if only to ask about where exactly this fear stemmed from, but it only took me a few seconds to realize just where Ilunor was going with this.

“For you hold within your hands an information disparity the likes of which has never been seen in untold eons. You hold within your arsenal a weapon far greater than any magical tome, artifact, or crafted omens. You hold an information advantage, newrealmer. One that has the potential to incur a deficit never before seen with the library. A deficit which could be used to exchange for secrets the Nexus believes no adjacent realm has the potential to trade for, let alone a newrealm. For this is the first instance in history where another power poses the potential to upend the Nexus’ stranglehold on the information deficit within the library. And whilst not all the information traded with the library is sensitive enough to pose a threat if learned, there are some which have the potential to. It was these highly specific pieces of information that I was tasked with burning, to prevent the potential of you trading highly sensitive information of your own, to learn of them. Because ultimately, my benefactor believed that you hold within your helmeted head information of equivalent enough weight and category to secure transactions which could not be tolerated.”

So that’s what it was… fear. A fear of a new, completely alien force, upending an established order that had no equals or peers to speak of. It was the first time the Nexus had truly experienced something that even the UN truly lacked…

A contemporary of comparable parity.

Another, truly foreign power, that could rival its primacy.

Mal’tory was clearly smart enough to see that, and smart enough to act upon it. Yet he still maintained that impregnable facade even when pressed with the truth.

There was a lot more going on underneath the surface than I could’ve ever imagined.

“So what exactly did you burn-”

“I don’t remember.”

“What?”

“The contract has… protections afforded to certain actions, clauses on discretion. I wish not to dwell on this matter, newrealmer.”

Ilunor let out a long sigh, one laden with specks and a bit of soot that blackend the table in front of us. His eyes languished on it, as it did on everything else he’s spoken of thus far.

Strangely enough, the Vunerian’s sooty breath triggered yet another lightbulb in my head to light up, and another question that sorely needed answering.

“I gotta ask, Ilunor. How’d you do it?” I finally managed out. “It’s the library we’re talking about here. Fire couldn’t have just burned away-”

“It’s not just fire, newrealmer.” The Vunerian interrupted indignantly, as if he was offended by the fact I’d called his dragon’s breath mere fire. “It’s dragon’s breath.”

There it was.

“What’s more, it wasn’t just dragon’s breath that did the killing blow.”

Wait what?

“I was just as curious as you were about the mechanics of this, newrealmer. I was also under the impression that the library was something more than it was. As such I made my curiosities known to my benefactor. And considering just how highly specialized my role was for this mission, he granted me a small glimpse into just how this attack was possible. To my knowledge, dragon’s breath is known to the library, and thus, the library has the appropriate means of countering its effects. That much is obvious. The library however, is vulnerable to what it doesn’t know. And the Nexus has within its arsenal secrets that can, and clearly did, take advantage of this weakness. As such it wasn’t just my flame that struck the blow. I was given an unknown substance I was instructed to consume. It changed my fire, turning into something even I don’t recognize.” Ilunor clenched up at that, flinching as he mentioned this mystery substance, grimacing all the while. “What’s more, the books you see aren’t simply books. The library, the entire construct, is an entity. The books are the physical manifestations of this ethereal entity’s memories, ones that we can interact with. What I’m trying to say here is that even the library is fallible, newrealmer-”

“-just as the Nexus is fallible.” I interrupted with a snide remark.

“That point is a matter of contention.” Ilunor, diplomatically, shot back, as we remained locked in a surprise staring match for a few tentative seconds.

“Right.” I managed out with a sigh, breaking the tension in the air. “So who was it then? Who’s this mystery benefactor behind all of this drama?”

“The same man that has seemingly become our peer group’s collective enemy, newrealmer.” Ilunor shot back with a semi-sarcastic chuff.

It didn’t take me long to realize just who it was Ilunor was referring to.

“Mal’tory?” I offered.

But instead of a conciliatory nod, all I received was a slow, sarcastic clap in response.

“Very good, newrealmer. Very good.”

I ignored that dismissive jab, pressing on as if it never happened at all, but not before shooting back a similar jab of my own. “Well at least I wasn’t the one dumb enough to sign a contract with the guy.”

Ilunor, surprisingly, had nothing to say in response to that. But his disgruntled face was clearly against that bit of truth.

“Our black robed professor really has been working overtime over the past few days, huh?” I continued.

“He has been focused squarely on you, newrealmer. Perhaps you should be honored for garnering the undivided attention of a mouthpiece of the privy council.” Ilunor continued, once more in that darkly sarcastic tone of voice.

These brief dives into sarcasm, as annoying and passive as aggressive as they were, felt more real than any of the interactions I’d had with the Vunerian thus far.

It genuinely felt that this was the real Ilunor, underneath all those layers of pomp, circumstance, and projected lackadaisical indifference.

It almost felt as if this sort of passive aggressive back and forth was just typical to what he expected of a conversation.

“I’d be flattered if I wasn’t the center of his attention, to be honest.” I sighed back, garnering a single, barely distinguishable dismissive snicker from the blue thing. “But that’s beside the point. I have more questions, and I’m expecting you to keep answering, Ilunor.”

“By all means.”

“The blanket, is it-”

“A one-of-a-kind magical artifact capable of completely hiding its user’s presence? Why yes.”

“Who gave it to you?”

“Mal’tory.”

“And what was it for?”

“To keep an eye on you and your misadventures. Or rather, that was the intent before the library debacle, it was very much useful for that whole escapade as well, given the information on its existence and function are likewise unknown to the library; on the count of being withheld.”

“Okay.” I managed out, and not wishing to disrupt the unexpected free-flow of information, pressed onward to take advantage of the Vunerian’s surprising compliance. “And the debacle at the armory?”

“Mal’tory’s attempt at making sure you demonstrated the capabilities of your weapon in full force, without purposely holding back.” Ilunor responded succinctly, almost too succinctly. “The potential of inciting a major social faux-pas that could later be taken advantage of was also something of a secondary goal.”

“And the null?” I pressed further.

“I learned of its significance to you from the black-robed professor himself.”

“But why choose it over anything else?” I narrowed my eyes further.

“Isn’t it obvious? It was meant to trigger a response. And out of all the creatures I could’ve projected, it was the most likely to do so.”

The fact that he’d be so open about inciting a response from a very recent trauma was equal parts infuriating as much as it was a breath of fresh air in frankness.

“Right.” I sighed loudly in response. “So, what’s with the burnt letters?”

“As much as I hate to admit it, this was purely the result of frustration. Frustration over my circumstances, and a means of venting that frustration in the most candid way possible.”

I narrowed my eyes at that. And whilst I could understand that explanation for the assembly letter, the mystery charred out letter underneath the Vunerian’s snuggle pile was a different matter entirely.

“For both letters?”

“Both.”

“The second letter was one addressed to all students regarding the library, but I couldn’t make out what the first one was. What was-”

“That is a matter not up for discussion, newrealmer.” The Vunerian put his foot down. Which made the contents of that mystery letter all the more intriguing, considering how he’d been weirdly open with everything else so far. “It is a personal matter. I hope you can respect that, as I am under the impression that we are currently discussing matters pertaining directly to the current circumstances plaguing our peer group. The letter… is decidedly not one of those matters.”

“So it wasn’t your contract with Mal’tory or anything?”

“No. The holder of an agreement is the one in possession of such things.”

“So how’d you know you were free from it?”

“It’s an inherent feeling… I can’t expect you to understand these sorts of things given your… your…” Ilunor turned around, and for the first time in the entire conversation, he finally broke eye contact to gaze at the air in indignant disbelief. “... your self-purported and self-supposed mana-less status.”

“And on the topic of Mal’tory, tell me why you did it. Why’d you sign a pact with that sleazeball?”

This question garnered a visceral reaction from the Vunerian, as he sighed, sinking deeper into his seat, claws running to the back of the armrests. “I believe I’d alluded to that enough, but if I need to spell it out, newrealmer, then I shall for the sake of this forthright exchange. To put it bluntly, the man played the oldest tactic in the book, he extorted me when the choices I had were to sign or to consign myself to oblivion. I’ll let you guess which choice I made, newrealmer.”

Another silence suddenly fell upon the both of us, as I let out a sigh of my own, gripping the bit of my helmet where my forehead should’ve been.

“Ilunor, I have to ask.”

“Yes?” The Vunerian perked up, seemingly happy to be moving forward from that recent tangent, but no less jaded.

“You’re not suddenly being open about all of this for no reason now are you? You’re not doing this all for free.”

“I believed that much was obvious from the start, yes.”

“So what do you want?” I spoke curtly, cutting straight through the fat.

To which the Vunerian seemed more than ecstatic to reciprocate. “... a guarantee, newrealmer.”

“What sort of a guarantee?”

“A guarantee to defend the honor and integrity of this peer group.”

I leaned forward once more, making it known that I wasn’t about to take his wishy-washy attempts at noble legalese. “And by peer group, you mean yourself.” I quickly clarified.

“The two are inseparable.” The Vunerian spoke with a sly grin. “As the protections afforded to one extend to all within its ranks.” He paused, before making a final play. “And isn’t group cohesion what we need to survive the hostile conditions we find ourselves ensnared in?”

It was at that point that I decided to push even further, calling the blue thing’s bluff as I laid my cards down. “What’s stopping me from simply letting you burn, Ilunor?” I stated plainly, and uncharacteristically coldly, causing the Vunerian’s cheeks to immediately drain of color. “What’s stopping me from letting this all play out the way that it should tomorrow?”

Ilunor didn’t respond for a few seconds, which only served to emphasize his answer when it did come. “Uncertainty.” He responded cryptically. “For if I…” He looked away, as if trying to physically hide from the very real possibility of his doomed fate. “... were to be forcibly removed from the ranks of the group, another would have to take my place. For a peer group must maintain its numbers, even if it must be inflated by drawing from alternative pools.”

The Vunerian’s ultimatum quickly became clear, as the prospects of getting someone new slotted into the group was… troubling.

For how difficult would it be for the Academy to simply shove someone like Uven Kroven into our group? Someone who was fully bound by the soulbinding ritual, reduced to just a literal puppet?

The Vunerian had his drawbacks, but at the very least, he wasn’t a mindless zombie. If this conversation showed me anything, it demonstrated his ability to at the very least, save his own skin.

Which brought me to a final talking point that I felt could serve to really dig into the blue thing’s psyche.

“What do you even want me to do about this situation, Ilunor?”

“I… I just assumed since you had a golden library card that-”

“That I could just talk to the library and sort this whole mess out?”

“Perhaps, I simply assumed-”

“But wouldn’t that go against the Nexus’ wishes?” I pushed further. “It looks to me that in order to rectify this situation in your favor, I’d have no choice but to go against the current Nexian agenda. And wouldn’t that be something that you, a Nexian loyalist, would absolutely loathe?”

“That is a highly reductive way of analyzing the situation, newrealmer.”

“My point still stands. Why would you have me subvert the institutions and the authorities of the Nexus-?”

“Because practical concerns over my well being trump any pretenses of loyalty-bound decorum, newrealmer.” Ilunor spouted out with frustrated vitriol. “I wish not to observe chivalry if it results in my demise. Especially if that demise was catalyzed by non-nexian actors, and propagated by flawed and failed representatives of the Nexian system.”

There it was.

What I expected to hear.

But it still wasn’t enough, at least not yet.

Especially since these were just the first cracks in the Vunerian’s indoctrinated worldview.

I let out a sigh, before deciding to end things off here, at least for now. “Right then.”

I was under no false pretenses over what this current dynamic was, and given the Vunerian’s track record so far, I wouldn’t just give in on the whims of his demands even after he’d revealed everything there was to know about his little escapades so far.

I needed to fact-check his claims before I proceeded.

And since I was in the driver’s seat of these negotiations, I had every right and ability to let the Vunerian sit and reflect on his actions for a while as I did so.

“That’ll be all.”

“What?” The Vunerian snapped back, seemingly blindsided by that answer.

“As I said, that’ll be all for now, Ilunor.” I repeated without a hint of hesitation.

“Is this a refutation of my request?” Ilunor managed out nervously, as it was clear that this was his turn to be asking for points of clarification.

“No, it’s me putting all of this on hold. At least for now. At least until I can get some second opinions on this whole thing.”

“But you have my word-”

“Your word doesn’t really mean much right now, Ilunor.” I stated bluntly. “You’ll find that humanity, at least as we are right now, values evidence-based practices and objective methodology when it comes to committing to deals and decisions such as this. I’m merely going to be… conducting independent cross-sectional studies in an attempt to corroborate your claims in order to make the best informed decision on this matter.”

I didn’t know why, but it felt natural to be using Bureau and Academo-Speak against Ilunor right now, especially after all the dense noble speech that had been thrown my way thus far. It never occurred to me until now, however, how it seemed to be an almost mirrored version of High Nexian’s Decorum-laden speech. Except whilst the latter was filled with fluff for fluff’s sake, the former was information dense and filled with eclectic jargon-speak for the sake of getting the point across as dryly as possible.

I began making my way out of the room, picking up the remnants of the burnt letters whilst doing so, as I left behind a dazed and confused Vunerian.

No sooner did I arrive at the door did I feel a tug on my hand however.

It was a forceful one, one that beckoned me to stay. “Newrealmer, please-” I craned my head, despite not needing to do so due to my rearview camera. “-I had no other choice. And now I have nowhere else and no one else to turn to. I understand full well the irony of the situation but please…”

I could hear the breakdown of his facade cracking in the form of the squeaky pained breaths that just barely held back a voice on the verge of tears.

I didn’t know whether I was looking at crocodile tears, but something told me that I wasn’t.

Still, I had to be smart about this.

I couldn’t just take everything at face value.

“Just stay put for now, Ilunor.” I managed out through another sigh. “I’ll be back. I can promise you that much for now.”

Dragon's Heart Tower, Level 23, Residence 30. Living Room. Local Time: 17:00 Hours.

Emma Booker

Relaying all that there was to be relayed to the likes of Thacea and Thalmin took a little while. Most of that time was taken up by Thalmin’s constant jabs at Ilunor’s moral character and his personal integrity, with a few moments punctuated by Thacea’s sharp and analytical questions.

In the end, while we couldn’t fully corroborate all that there was to corroborate regarding Ilunor’s story, certain elements that actually mattered were more or less confirmed as legitimate; most notably the peer group system.

Which is why we all came to the same, begrudging conclusion.

“The Academy will waste no time in replacing Ilunor with a far more agreeable agent to service their own ends. They will have learned from the lessons of the disgraced Mal’tory, and simply opt for a pliable duplicant, in the stead of any contract-bound free agent.” Thacea concluded, garnering a constant, dulcet growl from Thalmin all throughout her short yet informative analysis. “This works elegantly in their favor, utilizing the Vunerian as a convenient scapegoat, and replacing him with an unquestioning agent all in one fell swoop.”

“Which means the only means of preventing this outcome is to temporarily align our interests.” Thalmin begrudgingly spoke, practically shaking in place. “For the alternative would be unacceptable.”

“Okay.” I managed out with a sigh. “Alright then. We’ll see what we can do. But the Ilunor situation doesn't change our main objective. In fact, we might be able to kill two birds with-” I paused, my eyes immediately darting to Thacea as I corrected my course mid-way. “-I mean, save two birds with one net.” I managed out sheepishly, garnering a questioning glare from Thalmin and a look of incredulous confusion from Thacea.

…

“What I’m trying to say is that we should just get going to the library.” I managed out, looking to the two for confirmation.

Thacea was quick to nod, but Thalmin’s gaze strayed towards the corridor leading to his dorm.

“I think it would be prudent if I stayed behind, to keep an eye on the Vunerian.” He announced.

With a nod between the three of us, Thalmin began pacing towards his dorm, whilst Thacea and I finally resumed course for the library.

The Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts, En Route to the Library. Local Time: 17:15 Hours.

Emma Booker

We arrived at the checkpoint with quite a bit of attention, as a small crowd of students seemed to be loitering around the place either in an attempt to cross the bridge or simply to pass the time.

The latter group seemed to be waiting around for some juicy drama to occur, if their whispers were any indication.

“I count 25 attempts so far.”

“5 counts of ‘my father will hear about this!’ And 20 counts of throwing around worthless names in hopes of getting through.”

“I swear, the announcement of the library’s temporary closure has attracted all sorts of personalities who wouldn’t even consider coming here otherwise.”

“It’s all about faux-exclusivity. You make anything universally accessible and no one bats an eye. You close it, even temporarily, and the attention-seekers and egoists will flock to test their connections.”

“Oh, look! Another one!”

“Hmm? Oh that’s the first-year, the one in the armor. Quite the eccentric I heard. But what can you expect for an uppity newrealmer trying to make their mark.”

“Shh! They’re arriving!”

The peanut gallery finally shut up as I was stopped just around the checkpoint’s inspection booth. The same elf apprentice from before emerged, looking no worse for wear as he looked me up and down as if offended by the fact I’d returned a quarter of a day later.

“You lot again?” He managed out with what I could only describe as a snarky nondescript British drawl. “Not too bright are ya? Has the dean not made the situation clear enough for you?” He continued, as I allowed this to go on for just long enough before I pulled out my trump card.

Thacea clearly noticed this, and gave me the side-eye as if to tell me just to get it over with.

“The Dean has made the situation very clear to me, sir.” I responded snarkily, refusing to clarify further.

“Oh? Has he now?” The man chuckled, before leaning in uncomfortably close. “Then off with you lot then! Go on!” He shouted loudly, eliciting more murmurs from the gathered crowd still looking on from afar.

“I’m afraid I have no intention of leaving, sir. My intent is to cross this bridge.” I gestured politely to the gargoyle-filled pathway. “As I intend on using the library’s services today.”

This seemed to be enough to elicit an indignant huff from the man, as he turned around to raise his hand, signaling a gargoyle, only to crane his head back to be met with a face full of library card.

The gargoyle stopped in its tracks, and so too did the murmurs, as the collective attention of the entire open-air outcropping landed on me and the card between my fingers.

“As I said, the Dean has made the situation, and my inherent privilege as a patron of the library abundantly clear to me, sir.” I continued without skipping a single beat, causing the elf to all but lock up in complete and utter disbelief.

He slowly, and tentatively, began reaching out a finger to touch the card, which I promptly pulled away from him for obvious reasons. “Trust me.” I began. “You don’t want to do that.”

With a wordless look of understanding, the man silently gestured for the rest of the gargoyles to give way, as the veritable army of stone creatures that had occupied the first half of the bridge took flight, allowing me the freedom to cross.

“Access granted, Madam…”

“Booker.”

The man nodded once. “Madam Booker. Now, let us not cause a ruckus, and let this be over with.”

With no more words exchanged, I crossed the bridge without any issue. And after crossing the halfway point, the EVI once more started picking up chatter from around the checkpoint.

The crowds were going wild.

The Library.

Emma Booker

This wasn’t the same space I entered just a few days ago.

In fact, part of me thought I’d walked right into a trap, or some portal into an even darker dimension than the Nexus given the sheer whiplash of the change in internal design.

Gone was the wide expansive stadium-like space of the library’s reception.

And gone were the nondescript fake windows that allowed in an otherworldly bright white light.

In the place of solid blocks of white, and ornate panels of wood, were layers upon layers of cramped, tight, and claustrophobic cobblestone. The walls, the floors, even the roof were all entirely replaced by varying cuts of this lifeless gray facade, interspersed with the occasional dark accenting of obsidian and basalt.

The place looked and felt more like a dungeon, or some sort of a medieval castle or outpost.

That fact was further hammered home by the loud, shuffling of what I could only describe as pieces of platemail armor rattling against one another.

I was expecting the grand entrance of something akin to Sorecar or one of his autonomous knights. Or perhaps some sort of a renaissance-age automaton.

Instead, what emerged around the corner incited an opposite reaction to the fear and intimidation that everything was building up to.

In fact, all of that melted away as I felt my heart being practically tugged out of my chest.

And in a good way.

As the being that rounded the corner was indeed clad in platemail, complete with a helmet and visor.

But instead of standing at an intimidating 10 feet tall… he instead stood just over a foot in height.

“Halt!” A familiar, squeaky voice emerged from within the fun-sized suit of quadrupedal armor. “Who goes there?!” It continued, but stopped half way as a small black snoot emerged from the tip of the helmet, before pointing directly towards me.

“CADET EMMA BOOKER!”