Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School

You know that feeling you get when you walk out of the last exam of the school year? That weird light-chested feeling you get when you’re hit with the cool gust of autumn air and then realize… you’re done?

Where a flick of your eyeballs towards the once-seemingly never ending ‘to-do’ list courtesy of your AR-lenses reveals the completely foreign sight of an empty calendar in your weekly planner’s HUD?

Where you instinctively reach for your phone, unrolling it, only to reveal that your friend groups, chatrooms, servers, and forums once filled to the brim with a neverending flood of anxiety-ridden exam-related questions have suddenly and abruptly gone dark?

Well, that’s where I stood as I was finally escorted out of the faculty tower, and back into the Academy castle proper.

I couldn’t feel the cool autumn air, of course.

I also didn’t have an infosphere or extranet connection to check any servers, not that it would even matter here anyways.

But what I did have was my trusty to-do list, and the seemingly infinite collapsible and expandable lists of objectives to accomplish.

And what they revealed… was nothing short of euphoric.

Emptiness.

An empty, vacant vacuum for an entire day.

No crazy errands to run, no unexpected missions to accomplish, nothing but a big old nothing.

I couldn’t help but to audibly laugh inside of my suit, starting with a dry chuckle, then soon evolving into something just under a cry-laugh as I realized that it was all over.

All of it… from the null to the bomb to Mal’tory and to Ilunor’s trial… all of it was over.

And while the big objectives were still much apparent later down the to-do list, and while there was an objective at the very far end of the calendar, that being the ECS shard of impart dragon hunt, that was still a ways away.

Because today?

Today was finally a free day.

And I couldn’t help but to just… slump, activating the suit’s in-armor positional reorientation mode, and just standing there in a quiet part of the castle for a good few minutes.

I felt so light.

I felt so weightless.

I was free.

And now, it was time to enjoy that freedom while it lasted.

Before classes started up tomorrow.

Dragon’s Heart Tower, Level 23, Residence 30. Local Time: 1200 Hours.

Emma Booker

I arrived back at the dorms with a skip in my step. Or rather, as much of a skip as was possible inside my suit.

The room had never looked so inviting, what with the afternoon sun lighting it up in a bright yellow warmth that would’ve been perfect for Bim Bim to laze around in if she was here.

It was insane just how much your mindset could change the way you perceive the outside world. Because right now, I was seeing the place in an absolutely different light.

Gone were the anxieties related to setting up the tent and hoping everything worked, and gone was the constant stresses of dealing with the subterfuge-related crap the discount kobold was up to. Now, I could finally enjoy the room without anything else getting in the way of it.

What’s more, I finally had something to look forward to.

Actually talking to the friends and newfound allies I’d made under pressure, forged in the fires of adventure.

It was time to just talk for conversation’s sake, to begin the mundanities of college life, alongside the added bonus of potential inter-realm diplomacy.

The latter was definitely how I’d be framing it when I got to writing the weekly report I’d been putting off, at the very least.

“Note to self: classify any and all casual banter between me and the rest of the gang as quote: spontaneous interpersonal dialogue with the intent of furthering macropolitical transdimensional diplomacy via informal context-dependant topical discussions; fostering an environment of good-will and trust in line with SIOP recommendations.” I spoke with a faux-’official’ tone of voice, more or less channeling my inner Dr. Rosling, and imitating the way the sociology department’s scientists spoke to one another whenever they were going full academo-speak.

A full year of constant exposure to them was enough to imbue my brain with that manner of speech.

Which made me wonder… would a full year at the Academy do the same to me when it came to fancy noble-speak?

That line of thought was quickly, and thankfully, interrupted by the clack clack clack of the familiar sounds of bare talons against the wood and stone floors of the room. This was followed by the thump thump thumps of Thalmin’s battle-grade boots, and the surprisingly silent appearance of Ilunor, as I began to notice that he had a strange and almost uncanny ability to walk without generating any distinct audible footsteps.

All three soon found themselves facing me down in the living room. All three standing with varying levels of nervousness hidden underneath their own unique forms of social masking. Thacea with her resting regal-face, Thalmin with a more friendly expression of excitement and candor, and Ilunor… by looking eternally miffed. It was as if he was eternally stuck with an expression of mild inconvenience.

“So, how’d it go?” Thalmin was the first to break the silence, his two, almond-shaped, amber-yellow eyes giving off major friendly vibes despite the excitable open grin that placed his razor-sharp teeth on full display.

“Wellllll…” I began cryptically, exaggerating my syllables, pausing for effect, all with the intent of teasing the group more than anything.

“Out with it, newrealmer.” Ilunor interrupted abruptly. “Have you, or have you not succeeded in drawing out the man’s ire, all at my expense?”

The small thing was still very clearly on edge following the apprentice’s announcement over breakfast, an announcement made just prior to me defusing the whole investigation situation.

“I-”

THUMP THUMP THUMP

A series of three, distinct, rocky knocks rattled the room. As my conversation once more found itself derailed by an outside force.

I hitched up my breath, a sense of an all too-familiar nervousness suddenly overtaking me.

But just as suddenly as that gut-churning, pit-forming, sensation came, so too did my rational mind pierce through its vice grip.

There was no reason to panic, and even if there was, I’d end up going through the same motions anyways.

So with another breath, and with that realization in mind, I headed over to the door; much to Ilunor’s growing nervousness. But unlike his jitteriness, I both reached for, and swung open the door in one smooth motion.

This revealed not another faceless danger, or the return of a certain null, but a gargoyle and a familiar bandaged apprentice who greeted me with nothing less than a warm smile. “I apologize for any interruptions incurred by my unannounced intrusion, but I have a letter from the Dean himself. A letter, addressed to Dragon’s Heart Tower Level 23, Residence 30, to be delivered post-haste.” Larial spoke with an air of officialdom, still with a tired voice, but now without that overtone of annoyance that had colored our first interaction on that first night. I received the letter, opening it up to reveal something unexpected, but something that I should’ve expected given the magical shenanigans of the Academy.

On the paper was what looked to be a moving e-ink-like ‘video’ of the Dean. Except instead of addressing me outright, the message it first conveyed was bordering on being offensive.

“I’m sorry, but I must remind students that all messages must be opened by your own hands, and not the hands of your inanimate servile constructs.”

Larial couldn’t help but to give me a small twinge of an apologetic look upon overhearing this, as she quickly tapped the letter with a finger, prompting the now-static image of the Dean to reanimate to life.

This time with a less dismissive look on his recorded face.

“TO ALL STUDENTS. THE CULPRIT HAS BEEN APPREHENDED. THE SITUATION HAS BEEN RECTIFIED. ALL IS WELL. CARRY ON. AND REST WELL FOR THE START TO YOUR JOURNEY.”

“Thank you, Apprentice Larial.” I responded with a cheery chipperness in my voice. “Oh, and I hope you’re recovering alright.” I added sheepishly, reaching over to rub the back of my helmet, once more garnering a solid bonk.

“The pleasure is all mine, Emma Booker.” The apprentice responded with an equally polite response, before moving on to a more… personable tone of voice, delineating the next response as a personal one rather than one spoken in any official capacity. “And yes, the Master Healer states that my healing is progressing as expected. I should make a full recovery by the middle of next week.”

“Well that’s good to hear!” I announced excitedly, all but allowing my genuine sense of relief to color my words. It was just a few days ago when I saw her barely breathing and splayed out on the ground after all. So to see her here, back in the thick of her duties, with a clean bill of health, was something that was as jarring as it was a welcome change of pace. “And again, thank you for everything.” I added with a bright smile, subtly hinting at the help I received from her, before garnering yet another polite nod.

That was about as far as it went when it came to her acknowledgment of the role she played in the bomb drama however.

But that wasn’t the end of my overactive mind as a sudden, rather dark, intrusive but reasonable thought suddenly made itself known.

One that I just had to follow through with.

“Say… would you mind if I asked you as to how Professor Mal’tory is doing?” I asked suddenly and abruptly, prompting an equally abrupt shift in the apprentice’s features as it looked as if her internal threat levels had raised from zero to a hundred in a fraction of a second.

“I do not know.” She responded simply, and curtly, all the warmth from our interaction draining as she considered her next few words carefully. “Moreover, I am not at liberty to discuss the personal affairs of the faculty and staff, Emma Booker. So I must apologize for being unable to fulfill this point of personal privilege.”

“No no. It’s fine. I was just curious.” I replied amicably, ending the brief moment of tension, marked by a relieved exhale from the apprentice.

“Till we meet again, Emma Booker. And hopefully, on increasingly better and more cordial terms.” She spoke with a short bow, before stepping away from the door, and moving on just as quickly. I quickly peered out of the front door to see her all but repeating the same motions on our next door neighbor.

A neighbor that was, surprisingly, someone I immediately recognized from yesterday’s assembly.

ENTITY IFF CONFIRMED: A72 ETHOLIN ESILA - RONTALIS REALM [NEUTRAL]

It was the skittish, ferret-like, ‘merchant noble’.

He poked his head out after receiving a similar letter from the apprentice. Though even that benign motion was undeniably cute given his body morphology. His neck and torso being almost one and the same made it seem like he had a forever extendable upper body that just continued extending further and further into the hallway as he turned his slinky body towards my dorm. This was clearly done with a purpose in mind however, as with a nervous smile, he waved me down politely.

I managed to exchange a warm, polite smile, only to just as quickly realize that all he saw was a neutral, unflinching, featureless helmet that stared him down without much in the way of emotive nuance.

It was probably because of that, that he slowly, and cautiously, began inching his long, extended neck-torso back into his room, before gently closing the door behind him with a soft ka-thunk.

[Reminder: A72 Etholin Esila has requested a date and time for a meeting over an undisclosed subject matter.]

A small notification popped up in my right hand corner, prompting me to respond to it with an instinctive blink of acknowledgement. “Delay it for now, we’ll put that under secondary objectives for next week. Provided, of course, that primary objectives and studies don’t overwhelm me.”

[Acknowledged.]

With the interruptions dealt with, I finally closed the front door shut, and turned back to the rest of the group.

Ilunor, at this point, was once more absolutely fuming. His cheeks intermittently shifting between a ghostly-drained pale blue and a sickly vibrant turquoise, as if shifting back and forth between dread and utter fear.

“Newrealmer.” He uttered sternly.

To which I refused to reply, until he finally relented with a little stomp of his feet.

“Emma.”

“Yes, Ilunor?”

“The letter. What does it say?” He managed out under a smoke filled breath.

“Oh this?” I held up teasingly, before committing to a little tomfoolery as I folded it up in the form of one of humanity’s oldest viable designs for an unmanned, unpowered, monocoque flying machine.

A paper airplane.

“Catch!” I flung the thing with just enough force, and with the precision of an AI-assisted launch, that it began flying loops above the Vunerian’s head.

The little thing reached up, jumping as he did so, before another burst of mana radiation made itself known.

ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 150% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS

A small gust of wind suddenly appeared out of nowhere, sending the folded letter flying even higher as if it’d just picked up a jetstream.

The source of this second wave of tomfoolery was obvious enough if the toothy grin and the puffing of his chest didn’t already give it away, as Thalmin continued to huff out faint magical gusts for twenty or so seconds before finally relenting.

“You will pay for this.” Ilunor seethed from two very-smokey nostrils, as he finally leaped up just high enough to reach the letter, unfolding it, to reveal the hard-earned results of my work.

Coming in the form of that recorded message being replayed again for all to hear and see.

His hands soon began to tremble, as an honest-to-god smile began forming on his face.

A smiling, happy, and healthy looking Ilunor was definitely something I hadn’t yet seen.

But here it was, on full display, as he let out a long sharp exhale, before finally letting out a controlled burst of fire.

ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 300% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS

The red and orange flames immediately eviscerated the small piece of paper pinched between the Vunerian’s fingers, his hands seemingly impervious to the lapping of the flames, and the superheated object between them.

Though they didn’t have much time to continue holding onto it, as what was previously the letter fell through the Vunerian’s fingertips like sand, before landing on the floor in a heaping, smoking, pile of ashes.

“May I ask why you had to do that?” I asked through a questioning sigh.

“Satisfaction, newrealmer. I wouldn’t expect you to understand my draconic ways of course.” Ilunor responded with his expected pompous flair.

“Well, whatever the case is, that’s two things you owe me for now.” I suddenly chimed in, eliciting a befuddled expression from the Vunerian.

“What?!” The little thing retorted indignantly with an audible snap of his jaws.

“Well… judging from yesterday’s letters, I’m assuming you had trouble burning letters to a crisp.” I spoke nonchalantly, before pointing to the pile of ash and the small trail of smoke rising from it. “That seems to be a marked improvement from yesterday if you ask me… but hey, I’m not an expert on your draconic ways so who am I to cast judgment.”

“It is wise that you acknowledge your limitations, Emma Booker.” Ilunor responded, but instead of his usual jabs, this one was weirdly… positive coming from him. Sure it was acknowledging my self-deprecating statement, but it was done with a positive slant to it. Something that was already leagues beyond his blatantly antagonistic tendencies when we first met. This observation was quickly backed up by more of what he had to say. “But despite your lack of expertise, and your novice observations… you are indeed correct. My flame has well and truly returned to its draconic glory.” He announced proudly, placing both his hands against his hips with a little swing of his torso, timing that movement exactly to the swish of his mauve cape.

Whilst I was satisfied by this, it seemed as if Thalmin wasn’t happy with half-measures, as he let out a threatening dulcet growl, prompting the Vunerian to shudder instinctively in response, before letting out a sigh and an annoyed glare.

“Thank you, Emma Booker, for your aid in this aspect of my encumbrance as well.” He added reluctantly, prompting an approving nod from my end, which was enough to end the lupinor’s latent threats.

“You're welcome, Ilunor.” I responded curtly and with a tired sigh. “Just remember our agreement last night and let’s move on. Which… speaking of…” I turned to the rest of the group. “... I don’t think I’ve announced this properly yet, so here goes: I’m officially done for the day now.” I announced with glee.

“And your talk with the Dean, Emma? How did that go, exactly?” Thacea just as quickly chimed in, attempting to fill in the gap of my sudden and lackadaisical statement.

“The results speak for themselves, I think.” I casually pointed to the burnt letter on the floor. “But to clarify, it went surprisingly well all things considered.”

“How did he carry himself throughout the conversation? Were there any points in which you could infer hints at a parallel message being conveyed? In what manner did he start the conversation and in what fashion did he end it? And on what terms did you conclude these discussions? Were you able to-”

“You know what…” I interrupted Thacea right as she was in the thick of things. “I think it’ll be easier for me to just show you.”

…

It took just under an hour to review the footage, with about half of the time devoted to the gang pointing out key details practically every other second.

The first notable one, was something that I’d been meaning to ask the group since its sudden and abrupt revelation.

“So, just to clarify-” I began, pausing as I rewound the footage back to the hazy-eyed clerk that bumped into me in the dean’s office. “-what exactly is ‘navigation-by-stream’? Is it literally just like an extra sense you use to navigate with when your vision is preoccupied with something else? Using your mana-sense sort of like a natural LIDAR?”

Thacea, and the rest of the group, could only stare blankly at the end of that questioning statement. They were definitely following for the first half, but sort of just dropped off a sheer cliff by the end of it.

“Lie… Lie-darr?” Thalmin attempted to replicate what I’d just said.

“No, foolish prince. She clearly said Lee-Darr-ay.” Ilunor promptly chimed in with his signature smug grin.

“Erm, okay, bad analogy, let me rephrase. Is ‘navigation-by-stream’, literally just replacing your normal visual senses by using your ability to sense mana to sort of… visualize the world around you? Determining the placement of objects, obstacles, paths, and so on and so forth by how the mana-streams interact with objects within a given space?”

“Yes.” Thacea announced with a resounding, conclusive, yet somewhat perplexed tone of voice. As if she wasn’t expecting me to grasp it that quickly. “I am assuming your people have some sort of an equivalent, despite your mana-less nature? Perhaps this lie-dar, being an innate acoustic ability of sorts?”

“Close, princess.” I nodded. “We do have an equivalent, and indeed, multiple equivalents of this concept. Except we don’t naturally possess any of these abilities.”

Those latter words seemed to immediately set something off in the princess’ head, as her eyes once more entered that signature ‘lightbulb’ stare that had become increasingly more frequent with each passing day.

The same couldn’t be said for Ilunor, however.

“So no acoustic equivalent like those lesser-avinor.” Ilunor concluded with a narrowing of his eyes.

“I don’t know what a lesser-avinor is but, no, we don’t possess that naturally.”

“And no underwater equivalent of such an ability as well?” He continued, his curiosity starting to color his words.

“No, but we do have animals back at home that can do that.”

“And no other innate abilities other than basic sight and sound by which to navigate the world around you?”

“No, just regular old color vision and a decent hearing range.” I paused, before turning to Thalmin. “And probably way, way less of a range than what our mercenary prince friend here is capable of.”

“So your species is inherently deficient not just in the capacity of mana, but in the faculties of your natural forms as well?”

I let out a sigh, as Ilunor once more marched, whether by intention or not, straight into his mightier-than-thou territory of speech.

“Nope.” I responded bluntly.

“But it is clear that through the inherent lack of natural gifts, her people have been driven to create artificial means of bridging the gap. Perhaps even surpassing them.” Thacea spoke plainly, simply, matter-of-factly, as if once more coming upon another realization. “Being unsatisfied with their station in the natural order, they chose to dictate their fate through the purest form of sapient expression - innovation and creation.”

“I don’t see how you could come to that conclusion-”

“Her very presence here as a mana-less being necessitated the creation of an artificial means of overcoming those deficiencies inherent in her species.” Thacea shot back without even an ounce of hesitation. “She possesses artificial insects by which to act as her eyes and ears, extending her reach. She possesses devices that can bridge the gap between spaces in a similar fashion to a hearing-sense. Everything you can think of as a natural deficiency, her people have found a novel means of overcoming, if not outright surpassing them.”

“Thacea’s right, Ilunor.” I suddenly entered the fray, tag-teaming Thacea with a small nod of acknowledgement. “My species may lack natural acoustic mapping, the ability to track by scent, the ability to do this and that as seen across a multitude of species. But what we lack, we made up for in advanced tools. Tools that allow us to see even in the darkest of nights, tools that allow us to pierce through the seemingly impenetrable abyss of oceanic expanses, tools that allow us to pierce into the heavens themselves, and finally… tools that allow us to replicate navigation-by-stream.”

“This is why I assume you were able to grasp the concept quickly, despite being mana-less, and lacking any natural equivalent to the concept? This, lie-dar, being another tool which all but achieves the same ends?” Thacea added with a questioning gaze.

“Precisely, princess.”

Thacea took a moment to process that, before responding with an affirmative nod.

“If in doubt, just assume an Earthrealmer has a tool for that.” Thalmin added jokingly, though there was a clear undercurrent of unease from that statement as well, as if the lupinor understood that with all proverbial doors being open… if a line could even be drawn in terms of what was and what wasn’t possible. “But I digress. Are there any other topics you wanted to touch upon in this memory shard with the Dean?”

“Yeah, one actually. A pretty major one if you ask me…”

“Your foolhardy and unnecessarily risky plan to spy on the man using your mana-less insect?” Thacea all but lashed out.

“I know you have your gripes about that particular aspect of the mission, princess but… this was an opportunity I couldn’t just let slip by. Heck, it may even help in Ilunor’s case, or better… it may clue us in into where the man stands in this whole conspiracy. This is vital intel I wouldn’t have been able to come across otherwise.”

“The higher you fly, the greater the risks.” Thacea responded sharply. “But I see your points, even though I disagree with the cost-to-benefit ratio of this action.”

“High risk, high reward.” I shrugged. “Seems like our two cultures have some similar concepts in this regard. I guess I’m just a high risk type of girl. Anyways, my main gripe isn’t with the success potential of the drone. It’s about one thing the Dean hinted at… the implications that there exists more eyes, more ears, and most distressingly of all… more hands in the ever growing web of interests that is my candidacy.”

“That is to be expected, Emma.” Thacea responded matter of factly. “The candidacy has and always will be a tool by which to gauge and ascertain the worthiness of a realm for Nexian reformation.”

“You’re putting it in terms that are far too kind and in-line with the Nexian narrative, princess.” Thalmin swiftly interjected.

“But the avinor princess is correct, my dear mercenary prince. The candidacy is a means of gauging the potential of an adjacent realm. Which all but guarantees interest from a vast collection of individuals beyond the faculty and staff of the Academy. In the case of such a novel and unique case as the Earthrealmer’s… I hazard to guess that this number may be far more than typical.” Ilunor once more interrupted Thalmin’s wary remark, adding a surprisingly well composed and constructive addition to the flow of the conversation.

“Right, okay.” I acknowledged the inputs of the three, nodding along with their respective takes on the situation. “I guess we’ll cross that particular bridge if or when it comes. The Mal’tory situation probably put a massive red flag on my candidacy so, I guess this shouldn’t have come as a surprise. It’s just surprising that the Dean would openly admit it.”

“The man’s trying to appeal to your sensibilities, Booker.” Ilunor once more piped up, this time, treading into Thacea-territory. “He’s trying to single himself out as a potentially agreeable party, as a hand amidst hands. He’s trying to impose a narrative by which he isn’t your enemy, but rather, someone acting in the interests of his station rather than himself.”

I narrowed my eyes at that, quickly turning to Thacea to gauge her reactions.

“Ilunor’s point holds merit.” She acknowledged in a surprising display of solidarity with the Vunerian. “More to the point however, this marks the success of your attempts at assuring the man’s temperament through the social debt incurred by your actions with the library in addressing the Academy’s obligation in delivering the perpetrator of the great scarring. This is, in a sense, an extension of a truce through the acknowledgement of a fragment of the greater truth to you. It is a symbolic gesture in-line with the normalization of relations following the social faux pas at the assembly, and hinting at a potential future where both parties may coexist.”

“Coexisting is what I hoped to guarantee by the way I ended that conversation.” I quickly added. “Because as much as he is the Dean, I needed him to understand that I won’t just sit by and tolerate further blatant incursions.”

“A fitting gesture and one that I fully stand by.” Thalmin nodded.

“Once again, another… as you say, high risk high reward maneuver, Emma.” Thacea concluded, not adding any more to that than she needed to.

“With all of that being said.” Thalmin began up again, barely seconds after the tail end of that line of conversation had just ended. “We’ve already touched upon just how unique your sensibilities are despite your physical limitations. We’ve likewise almost broached the topic that was your realm the night prior. Would it be too much to ask if we could reach the logical conclusion of these discussions? Addressing and demonstrating the nature of your realm?”

A small smile crept up my face as I nodded affirmatively, but not before Thalmin raised a single finger in a small objection.

“But where are my manners… I can’t just blatantly address such a matter without a gesture of good faith from my own end. It isn’t the Havenbrock way. As such, I’m willing to take the first step, to start us off with a small brief glimpse into my own realm… provided you are alright with that, Emma?”

A glimmer of excitement suddenly made itself known stemming from the pit of my gut and just as quickly swallowing me whole. That childlike sense of wonder suddenly took over, as I nodded excitedly.

This was what I was here for.

“Yes please!” I beamed out, almost breaking that calmer more mature side of myself for a moment, before I turned to both Thacea and Ilunor. “So erm, considering we’re doing this now… would you care to also participate in this show and tell?”

Thacea, reluctantly, and wordlessly nodded.

Followed suit by a prideful, almost snarky grin from the likes of Ilunor.

“Oh Emma Booker, you should not have asked for a game of comparisons, for the results of this contest shall most certainly be in my favor.”

I looked on at the Vunerian, allowing him to continue as he began rattling off the great boons of his realm, prompting me to flip through my HUD, scrolling through the vast contents of the CED, and then finally landing on the schematics to the holoprojector that needed some setting up in my dorm.

“EVI.”

“Yes, Cadet Booker?”

“Let’s go through the library. There should be a lot we can work with depending on where Thalmin and the rest of the group takes this.”

“Affirmative, Cadet Booker. Accessing CULTURAL EXCHANGE DATABASE.”