Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School

The cultural exchange database was vast, expansive, and most importantly of all… it was dynamic. It was designed to be that way, such that the information conveyed within could be tailored and trimmed to fit the socio-cultural particularities of whatever entity, polity, or civilization existed on the other side of the portal.

I, along with the EVI’s very-specifically coded subroutines for this very eventuality, could effectively pick and choose from the compendium of all human knowledge, the cumulative sum total of all that had ever existed; barring of course a good chunk of specifics and details that would’ve otherwise taken up too much drive space.

Still, the condensed cumulative sum of all human experience was nothing to scoff at. What’s more, it was way more than what I needed for the purposes of this little demo.

I needed to be selective, gradual, and conservative in my approach in information dissemination after all. Because if Thacea’s experience was anything to go by, Fundamental Systemic Incongruency was something that I’d need to consistently consider; lest I show Earth Ring in the first five seconds of my demo, and the whole thing just ends up flying over everyone’s heads, killing not just the whole vibe and mood of the reveal but actively sabotaging one of the core tenets of my mission altogether. Ruining any meaningful capacity to understand by outright overloading them with knowledge they would have zero reference points for.

I needed to start simple.

Or more specifically, I’d have to start off with something they could relate to. Something that was topical in-the-moment. A jumping off point that the group could easily comprehend. A subject matter that was close to home for them, before eventually slowly zooming out, expanding outwards, and building brick by brick the progress humanity had made on matters they were familiar with.

It was metal foundries and forges in Thacea’s case, given how the conversation topic at the time trended towards my armor and the material sciences behind it, and even then I halted it at around the 21st to 22nd century Earth-bound forges.

“Alright then! It’s decided, I shall be going first.” Thalmin began with a wide eyed look of excitement, slamming his open paw down on the table in a display of emotive telegraphy.

“Well let's hear it!” I matched Thalmin’s excitement with beat for beat.

“Not just yet, Emma.” Thalmin responded cryptically, standing up to full height. “For I doubt mere words will be sufficient to convey the beauty and majesty that is Havenbrock. It would be far, far too common of me to simply resolve to oral descriptions to illustrate my home, my people, and my heritage. Not especially to an audience of peers.” He spoke with a certain swagger that matched his pace. A beam of excitement continued through each and every one of his steps as he marched his way towards his room.

This prompted me to begin preempting various topics whilst Thalmin was away.

My eyes continued to scroll across topic after topic, the seemingly endless library of information being more than familiar to me given the sociology department and diplomatic corps’ methodical lessons and constant drilling.

There was just so much to pick and choose from, and part of me simply wanted to just go for a complete timelapse of civilization, but I’d hold off on that for now.

At least until Thalmin comes back with the accompanying equipment he needed to start his own demo off with.

And return he did, now with an eclectic collection of objects cradled in his arms. Objects ranging from a book that looked more akin to a massive party-sized ancient tome that could literally be used as a bludgeoning weapon in a pinch, a metal bracket that looked like the love child between an ancient bear-trap and an archaic dentistry apparatus, along with a mysterious satin sack that rattled with each and every step he took.

The lupinor promptly, and proudly, placed this random assortment of items on the coffee table in front of us, and within the span of the next few minutes got to work assembling it all.

First by opening the book with a dull, table-rattling THUD, flipping the book several pages in. Then by attaching the gnarly metal bracket up and along the spine of the book, before clamping it down with a hair-raising clank! The clamp extended outward to reveal several ‘sockets’ extended on spindly arms above the pages of the book, clearly intended for something. The whole thing currently looked like an orrery had been fused into a book, with the different ‘sockets’ empty and awaiting some final addition. That something soon turned out to be the contents of the red and white velvety sack, which consisted of an array of crystals, rocks, and strangest of all - a small vial of iridescent liquid.

Thalmin soon began the careful and meticulous process of placing crystal after crystal in each of the sockets, before grabbing a few glass lenses, and pouring the mysterious liquid over them, causing them to glow a bright pink hue.

The ‘completed’ product turned out to literally just be a book caged in a metal clamp, with various crystals, rocks, and a vial of glowing liquid all suspended above it within the ‘jaws’ of the clamp. Again, like an orrery pulled straight from a heavy metal album cover.

“If you’ll excuse my ignorance, Thalmin… what the heck am I supposed to be looking at here?”

“Heh, now you know how it feels when you bring out another reality-defying artifice out of your pocket, Emma.” Thalmin replied with a cocky jab, complemented by a smile that more or less confirmed his friendly and facetious intent. “Right then, this here is-”

“-a common implement, one that has been seen by an untold realms’ worth of eyes, across an unimaginable length of eons. An implement that has been reproduced in innumerable quantities, with an equally lengthy number of design iterations. The commoners call it a pocket play. We call it the poor man’s transportium. For reasons that are very, very apparent of course.” Ilunor placed a single hand upon his frilly neckerchief at that, letting out an obnoxious laugh only a noble was capable of. This was however swiftly shut down by a growl from Thalmin as he not-so-subtly urged the Vunerian to move on. “Ahem, as I was saying, it is actually referred to by the proper-monicker of Sight-Seer.”

I blinked a few times at that name, cocking my head as I did so.

“Does… does that imply what I think it implies-?”

“Indeed, an ingenious name if I do say so myself. For you see, you see different sights through this seer. As if you were a sight-seer, a tourist, a visitor, an adventurer embarking on new realms.” Ilunor paused.

I didn’t really have anything to respond to that with, as I simply stared Ilunor down with a stone cold expression. “Okay, first off, I admit… I love the pun.”

Ilunor, completely flabbergasted and not expecting my response, responded with an incredulous retort. “It is not a common jape, Emma Booker, it is a thoughtful and well worded title for such a time-honored artifice. Even if it may have lost its novel luster over the generations, it is still prudent to respect the title given to it by its original artificer.”

“I’m not dissing it, Ilunor. I’m saying that I actually enjoy the humor in that title.”

“But there is no humor to be found! This is a serious matter befitting of your newrealmer respect-”

“And respect it I will.” I quickly interjected, halting what sounded like the start to an enthusiast’s defensive tirades. “Depending of course on how it stacks up to what I have packed away.” I quickly added with a wink. “And I’m gonna hold off on any comparisons with my holo-projector for now, at least until I see how well this thing works.” I quickly added, prompting Thalmin’s eyes to grow wide with concern over exactly what I meant, but doing nothing to either placate nor intimidate the Vunerian. I soon turned towards Thalmin with a nod. “Alrighty then, let’s see it.” I urged, attempting to cut off any further potential for interruptions from the Vunerian.

Thalmin didn’t waste any time as he turned his full attention towards the magical contraption, hovering both hands a few inches above the two lenses that flanked the twisted orrery.

ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 200% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS

A surge of mana radiation preceded what was in effect, a tightening of the clamp onto the pages of the book, the harsh metal at one point seemingly melting into the parchment-like paper, before releasing a sudden and abrupt whirr as the different extensions began flailing to and fro. The rocks and crystals glowing quickly after, before suddenly and abruptly, raising mana radiation levels even higher.

ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 250% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS

Though not by too much considering the other mana radiation blips I’d experienced so far.

Not a second later, the room was bathed in a piercing white light, followed by shades of black and sepia that began layering themselves one after the other, until finally, the a rainbow of colors flashed before my eyes in a blinding instant; revealing what looked to be a watercolor painting that surrounded us on all sides. My rear and side facing cameras revealed that there was now, in fact, a three dimensional projection being overlaid all around us; like an immersive holographic experience.

However, where holographic experiences generally took up more space and required a sparse, if not empty, room to operate optimally; this projection managed to more or less ignore our cluttered surroundings almost entirely.

Or more accurately, it actually managed to morph its surroundings for its own purposes, deconstructing and reconstituting it into whatever it was projecting. To the point where the world around us slowly melted into something new.

The large bookshelf near the dining room table had suddenly become part of the thick and impenetrable door of some guard house. The dining room table and chairs themselves had similarly been transformed into a series of rustic-looking equivalents, with the silverware and fine decor becoming little more than spare parts and equipment, alongside a few jugs of ale, and a whole load of dull weapons currently in the process of cleaning and sharpening.

Regaining my bearings, it felt like we’d just been thrust into a whole other world, with only the immediate epicenter of the book itself spared from this strange holographic projection.

We were now, in effect, a small bubble of our own reality - two sofas, a coffee table, and the cold granite floors beneath us, surrounded by a living, breathing, water-color painting of an idyllic medieval world that would’ve fit right at home with the Chronicles of Zelza series. More specifically, the most recent hit: the Cries of the Empire.

I looked up from my seated position to see the gates of some large medieval city in front of me, surrounded by a winding river with a single, large, white sandstone bridge whose design looked strangely roman-esque.

A large guard house and guard tower stood in our way between the river and the city walls proper, manned by a platoon’s worth of lupinor guardsmen of varying heights, sizes, builds, and even equipment. With some looking like they’d just walked out of spawn with starter-tier cloth armor, and others donning full plate with dings and dents.

Yet despite that, everything still had this toony, almost cell-shaded look to it. Which was, again, the hallmark of the Cries of the Empire series. Something that the sparse yet expansive stretches of farmland surrounding the city seemed to really add to as well.

“Ugh, this infernal artifice requires more fine tuning. Spare me a moment.” Thalmin interrupted abruptly, kneeling down to tweak and reseat some of the crystals, which for a moment caused the world to lose color, then outline, then fine shading, almost reverting it to what looked to be a flip-book like animation.

“I’m going to assume that it isn’t supposed to look like a watercolor painting at the start?”

“Yes, it’s supposed to be realistic, not some fairytale brought to life…” Thalmin growled out in annoyance, more towards his equipment more than anything.

“Have you tried hitting it?”

The lupinor paused, turning towards me with a befuddled expression.

“Trust me, it works.” I offered once more through a sheepish smile, prompting the mercenary prince to let out a sigh of frustration, before slamming the whole thing gently with his fist.

Things started to radically shift almost immediately, as that bout of percussive maintenance resulted in yet another burst of mana radiation, coupled with the scenery surrounding us suddenly clearing up. Going through layer after successive ‘layer’ of animation: from sketch, to linework, to flat colors, to shading, before suddenly turning photo-realistic. It was as if someone had just cycled through the different texture packs for Blick Block from the least to the most graphics intensive settings.

Needless to say, it finally worked, as we were now well and truly immersed in a photo-realistic holographic experience.

“Well then.” Thalmin blinked rapidly in response, before turning towards me with a bewildered expression. “I guess that works too.” He spoke with a bemused chuckle. “Alright then, I think it should be apparent enough what this is.” The lupinor turned to the rest of the group, garnering a few nods, before landing his eyes back on me. “For Emma’s sake, I will explain it. This particular sight-seer was made with the intention of recording my own personal experiences, for the purposes of demonstrating the current state of Havenbrock’s capital to those that may request it, or to those that I may wish to show of my own volition.” The lupinor paused, as if pondering his next few points carefully. “However, I would be remiss if I did not mention the alternate uses of this artifice, as it likewise acts as a reminder of home for those instances I may wish to escape the stuffy confines of the Academy for the familiar comforts of home. Furthermore, the court mages have likewise taken it upon themselves to translate everything from Havenbrock to High Nexian, so everything being spoken will be understandable to all of you. So with that out of the way, let us commence.”

The panoramic cinematic VR-esque experience around us quickly resumed, most obviously evidenced by everything around us moving again, but likewise by a second, rather unexpected addition that should’ve been obvious from the start.

“Welcome back, my prince.”

Sound.

Most notably in the form of the guards in front of the bridge speaking, before bowing each and every one of their heads low in greetings of the POV of this immersive experience - Thalmin himself.

It hadn’t yet occurred to me that there was a speaker system hidden within this ramshackled magical device.

But then again, it was magic, so I guess full Kolby Digital surround sound was to be expected.

“Glad to be back, I’m afraid I have to report that there remains nary a straggler corp’s worth of Greyfang Knights for you to hunt down now, Sir Rehlin.” What was undeniably Thalmin’s voice spoke from the perspective of the ‘camera’ recording the whole experience, prompting me to do a double take as I cocked my head at the man.

“It wouldn’t be a proper Royal Hunt if that wasn’t the case, my Prince.” The red-furred wolf responded with a proper predatory grin on her face, soon backed up by a chorus of howling cheers from the rest of the guard unit, who each picked up their weapons and began clanging them against their shields.

This act bothered the Vunerian to no end, as he hissed in response.

“With that being said, here’s a gift from old man Balnan himself.” The POV recording of Thalmin continued, pulling out a heavy leather satchel, before opening it to reveal a bloodied sword.

“Is that…”

“The coveted greatsword.” Thalmin responded with a confidence imbued with both authority and regality, the man carrying himself in a way that honestly fit his title.”Take it, it’s yours.”

“But I can’t-”

“Remember The Promise, Sir Rehlin. The spoils of victory shall go to those that carry the blade-”

“-loyal to the House that bears the Writ of the Call to Arms.” The red furred wolf completed Thalmin’s sentence for him, nodding to him respectfully before handing the sword off to an older looking wolf who began inspecting and cleaning it almost instantly.

The whole exchange felt as if I'd just been plonked into the middle of one of those multi-decade running fantasy shows, as whilst I got the context clues for it, I was now more or less just… lost for the greater context of the scene.

“That accounts for the last of the Balnan rebellion’s regular forces. It shouldn’t be long before they collapse under the pressure.” POV-Thalmin continued up again, now walking across the bridge with the red wolf in tow.

“Just in time for your departure to the Nexus, your Grace.” She responded, changing the manner in which she spoke and the titles she used for him just as they passed through the towering front gates.

What were effectively two, monolithic, turreted towers flanking a metal gate, with arrow slits and embrasures meticulously carved into the thick stone bricks. Some of them even looked too seamless to be done by hand, whilst others seemed to glow with a faint magical aura.

“A departure which I most graciously look forward to…” Thalmin responded in a sarcastic growl, before turning to the quickly-gathering crowd of onlookers - lupinors of varying shades and colors of fur, dressed in anything from shabby rags to colorful robes. Raising a hand, the crowd began cheering, but just as the festivities began, so too did it take a sudden shift. As a sudden, loud rattling emerged from behind the pair, belonging to a colorful and decked out carriage painted in scenes of battle. With streaks of crimson coating the side, unclear of whether they were part of the canvas itself, or actual blood from some recent battle.

The crowds really began gathering at this point, as another lupinor poked his head out from the carriage, before rising to the top like some sort of a 23rd century politician in a sunroof motorcade.

This wolf looked eerily familiar to Thalmin, prompting me to do a double take with the man in real life, just before the question of his identity was quickly addressed by the holographic recording as it continued playing.

“Make way! Make way for the return of the Crown Prince’s hunting party! Make way for His Royal Highness Crown Prince Krahmin!” A booming voice from the front of the carriage shouted, prompting both POV-Thalmin and Rehlin to step aside, as the long line of carriages, horsemen, pikemen, and a thousand other assorted melee-weapon carrying soldiers began marching down the large open paths of the main street, now truly drawing the cheers, hoots, and hollers of the gathered crowd.

There was a split second where POV-Thalmin’s eyes seemingly met what I assumed was his eldest brother, as the more decorated, lauded lupinor gave him a visible nod before just as quickly being driven off towards a castle in the far distance.

The pace of the recording seemed to slow down now, coinciding with the leisurely pace of the POV’s walking speed, as I now took the time to take a good look at the world around me.

All around me were what looked to be three to four story townhouse developments. With storefronts and open gutters leading to larger storm drains just beneath the roadside. Brick and mortar storefronts were practically cluttered and blanketed by a never-ending sea of informal and temporary-looking market stands that lined almost every inch of ‘raised’ sidewalk, forcing the pedestrians onto the streets, as they shared a large three-lane ‘road’ with the constant traffic. A traffic consisting of buggies, the occasional chariot, and the seemingly ubiquitous open-back wagons that carried anything from livestock, to hay, to sacks of grains, and barrels of ale.

It was around this point that all pretenses of Havenbrock to High Nexian translations ended, as I could now hear the unfiltered speech of a thousand different lupinors speaking in anything from casual speech to loud shouts. More of the latter as well, given how the street hawkers seemed to be absolutely dominating the local space, selling anything from cured meats and salted fish to leather sandals and handmade baskets. Some stores even sold both alongside one another, advertising a sign that looked to be fish sandals.

Looking further down the main road, which was notably constructed out of cobblestone and not paracrete, unisphalt, composalite, or a composite of the three, the path seemed to head straight through to an imposing castle that sat atop of what was ostensibly a plateau.

A distinction that needed to be made from a simple hill, as the large walled structure sat atop of a natural elevation significantly higher than the rest of the city. In fact, there seemed to be a winding path that needed to be taken to actually reach the castle itself from ground level, a path that was barricaded by yet another set of walls deeper still into the city.

Indeed, the more I looked, the more the city seemed more akin to a sort of fortress… a stronghold even. With layered defenses increasing the deeper and deeper you went, and structures rising in both height and grandeur the closer you got to the castle proper.

If it wasn’t for me knowing Thalmin personally, the whole city would’ve given me real evil empire capital vibes. With its propensity for darker color palettes, and its preference for martial traditions in the form of these excessive defenses, not to mention the villain-like lair atop of a plateau.

However, even if I didn’t know Thalmin, a few minutes worth of people watching would’ve been enough for me to tell that aesthetics alone couldn’t tell the whole story. As despite the seemingly bustling chaos, there was an order and respectfulness to everything. As younger working age lupinors aided the more elderly wherever they could, and storefronts despite always being seemingly on edge of violent altercations, seemed courteous enough to help set up shop where two sets of hands were needed as opposed to one.

Indeed, there was a strange sense of community here that wasn’t that far off from both my hometowns, a vibe that continued the further Thalmin and his guard went.

Low-rise developments soon gave rise to five, ten, and even twenty story structures occasionally interrupted by a Cathedral or other large public buildings; all of which seemed to be a cross between this mediterranean Roman-esque design what with the lupinor’s seemingly never ending obsession for pillars and colonnades, but crossed with a more medieval style of building with the wooden and stone construction, as well as facades adorned with wood and coarse plaster.

Thatched roofing also quickly gave rise to red and orange tile roofs, as well as increasingly cleaner and cleaner streets, larger open public spaces, and what seemed to be large buildings with steam coming out of all sides.

“Ugh, is that what I believe it is?” Ilunor piped up.

“What-” I spoke up, only to have Thalmin answer first.

“Public bathouses, yes.” The real-life Thalmin responded proudly.

“I cannot understand how you went through the Nexian reformations without reforming that specific aspect of your culture.”

“Hey, hygiene was one of the great innovations cited by the reformations, right? Well that’s hygiene right there, public hygiene at that, so why don’t you just reform your own tongue before going off on my people.” Thalmin growled in response, prompting the Vunerian to simply shrug as the video continued.

Throughout the whole walk, conversations over daily life clued me into how things were run in Havenbrock. With Thalmin more or less giving enough context clues through his back and forths with the guard to address the elephant in the room.

“You should’ve remained with your brother, your Grace. It would have been-”

“Are you suggesting, advising, or ordering me, Sir Rehlin?” POV-Thalmin cut her off before she could continue, prompting the red furred wolf to straighten up.

“A mere point of question and advisory wisdom, your Grace.”

The rest of that conversation seemed to devolve into a muted garbled mess, clearly on purpose, given how everything up to this point had been relatively clear so far.

However, by the end of it, the guard eventually dipped her head down in acknowledgement of whatever was said. This was just as they both now reached what looked to be a magical elevator, completely circumventing the long winding road that went a good thousand and a half feet up towards the castle.

It was clear now why Thalmin had chosen this particular memory to show, as the near-wordless elevator ride through what was effectively a glass elevator made for a spectacular bird’s eye view of the city below. A city that seemingly stretched on for tens of miles. Densely packed pre-industrial urban sprawl carefully separated through the strategic placement of walls, diverted canals, natural rivers, even incorporating natural barriers such as hills, cliff faces, and rocks. Beyond the city walls proper were large, open cultivated fields that extended for farther than the eye could see, before ending in what seemed to be a well kept forest just beyond the distant horizon.

The elevator soon stopped, the doors opening to the tune of trumpets and a herald announcing Thalmin’s return.

“All bow for the return of Prince Thalmin Havenbrock, Royal Bearer of the Spoils, Keeper of the Writ, Tracker of Traitors, and Royal Emissary for the Nexian Sacrifice.”

The hologram just as quickly and abruptly came to an end at the foot of this grand castle, what looked to be the cross between the acropolis and a high-walled star-fort. It was undeniably grand, going up a good twenty stories, with conical towers further raising that height by ten more stories. Altogether, the entire castle took up the entire square footage of the plateau, its dark cobblestone exterior and lack of apparent windows giving it an all-too appropriate vibe consistent with the mercenary prince monicker Thalmin held.

“Grand, truly grand.” Ilunor piped up once again, an annoyance flaring through his nostrils in the form of a few latent flames. “I find this whole show exceedingly distasteful and very much in poor taste.”

“Okay, seriously Ilunor, what is it now?” I finally took the bait, turning to the Vunerian in the same way I’d turn to someone constantly and incessantly nitpicking a good movie.

“All that you see here? It doesn’t belong to our mercenary prince’s family. It was taken, stolen from those who had the rightful claim to the throne.”

“What the hell are you even-”

“It’s alright, Emma.” Thalmin let out an annoyed growl, more towards Ilunor than me, as he abruptly brought the hologram to a stop with a flick of his wrist. “Since this matter seems to be a sore sticking point for a few of us-” He glared at the Vunerian for good measure. “-I may have to address it one way or another.” He took a breath in, before exhaling just as frustratingly. “I am known as a mercenary Prince for a reason. For what Ilunor says is true - my family were not the original incumbents of the throne of Havenbrock.”

“He took it.” Ilunor added abruptly with a dismissive hiss.

“Indeed we did.” Thalmin replied unapologetically, as if he was simply stating a fact set in stone with no reservations as to how it was taken by anyone else.

This seemed to take Ilunor by surprise, as if he was expecting something of a sheepish or a more remorseful acknowledgement.

“You took it.” He reiterated harshly.

“Yes.” Thalmin repeated himself. “We did. We took it all. The throne, the titles, the castle, the cities, and the entire realm.”

“How can you be so-”

“Because it’s the truth, Vunerian. We took it all, for it was what we were owed.”

The Vunerian, in a rare moment of shock, couldn’t find the works to retort with.

This prompted the lupinor to continue unabated, as he now expanded on this whole drama with me, filling me in on the context; and at the same time hammering home the point to Ilunor for good measure. “The former ruling family had outstanding debts in the form of unpaid and unsettled balances to the Mercenary Company of DeMott. A company that, owing to the unique laws carried over from prior to the Nexian reformations, placed my land-owning family in equal standing to that of the Entrusted Nobility through what is known as the Writ of the Call to Arms. As such, with debts refusing to be settled between the Royalty to the Nobility, we took it upon ourselves to resolve the outstanding debts on our terms. Requisitioning their royal assets, and placing ourselves in control to rectify this imbalance.” Thalmin stated in no uncertain terms, what amounted to a coup. “The standing army of Havenbrock was likewise, up to this point, unpaid for their services. Our first act as the House of Havenbrock was to clear up these debts, and in doing so, emptying the royal coffers to fill the coffers of those owed their dues.”

“Which makes the so-called mercenary family of Havenbrock the single poorest ruling family in the entirety of the Adjacent Realms.” Ilunor spat back with a degree of cockiness.

“The wealth of a family means nothing if the coffers of those upholding their rule goes unfilled.” Thalmin replied without hesitation, prompting me to finally chime in with a grin on my face.

“Thalmin?”

“Yes, Emma?”

“I think you and I are going to get along just fine.”

Thalmin, in response to this, gave me the cockiest smirk imaginable. “I am pleased to hear that, Emma of Earthrealm.”

A small pause punctuated the air after that, before Thalmin spoke up once again. “Now then, who’s next?”