After our talk, Opal thanked me and accompanied me to the cafeteria for a quick breakfast before the time came to rally the class for an unremarkable day in Zeff’s class. As was the day before, the topic was Mana Molding. And we sat and listened to Zeff over-enthusiastically explaining the theories behind the techniques for the first half of the day. Things I had little-to-no interest in. So I spent the time making a new ‘program’ in the Eternal Eye to compartmentalize all I knew about Classes in one easy-to-access, not-so-digital place.
Following lunch, I followed the same procedure but for the guild. Which was still nothing more than a vague concept that I hardly filled out during the length of the class. Instead, I focused on what I needed to design. In particular, the things outside the basics. Things like benefits, retirement pensions, pay, and anything else with the potential to bring others on board.
Naturally, I was more than excited to check off my to-do list once class ended and migrated to the cafeteria with my party. Unfortunately, though, I saw only Duke and Twig inside. They both ordered a relatively small bowl of food that they wolfed down within seconds before leaving without a word or wave. Looking back, I realized most of Team 1 spent their free time in the common room. Save Winston, who I assumed spent his days brooding in his room.
Surely as flies on shit, I found them scattered in various places upon returning to the dorms. The first of them was Rhody, leaning under the awning before the door as he watched the scattered crowd like a pervert at a high school sports game. He looked sleazy too. Like a weasel or a rat, complete with the thin frame and lithe fingers that moved almost constantly. He only gave a nod as I approached. Then watched me sit and roll a blunt from the corner of his eye.
“I knew it.” He muttered to himself.
“I’m surprised you haven’t seen me.” I passed it to him, laughing.
“You don’t exactly sit where you can be seen. But you wear this shit like perfume.” He coughed through a cloud of smoke. “That’s good.” He chimed after.
“Thanks.”
“I assume you’re making your rounds, then?” He coughed again, passing it back.
“That, and seeing what makes people tick.” I shrugged. “Seeing what Classes they want. What their dreams are. That sort of thing.”
“Sounds like you’re up to no good.” Rhody laughed.
“Or, maybe I’m looking to recruit.” I passed the blunt with a snort.
Squinting and with his brow raised, Rhody cautiously took the blunt and puffed it twice before speaking softly and slowly. “Recruiting for what?”
“The guild I'm forming.” I grinned. “But I’ll explain that to the party in due time. So, what have you got?”
“As thanks for this.” He held up the blunt and took two more tokes. “I’ll tell you that I’m from a shit hole near the coast. I had to do what I had to do to survive. I'm sure you understand.”
“I can respect that.”
“Yeah, I bet.” He snorted. “Anyway, I’m gonna be a Rogue. Thief or Assassin; don’t matter which. I’m gonna score it big and live a lavish life until my end of days. Can your guild give me that?”
“Most definitely.” I snorted this time. “But we can talk about that later. For now, I’m putting together team positions for everyone. Naturally, you’ll be put into a position that’ll let you put your Rogue skills to use. So, tell me about your magic.”
“Clay and Water, with a Ninth-Grade Ice Well,” he calmly said before attempting to pass it back.
“It's yours.” I shook my head and pried myself from the wall. “Good talk.”
Likewise,” I heard him say before I shuffled inside, looked around, and strode to Curious Twig sitting in her usual place.
“Hello, Amun.” She lowered her comparatively massive eyes.
“Hey.” I threw my head up.
“I have seen you are capable of many things.”
“I’m also curious about many things.” I chuckled. “Like you.”
“Twig has not done many things.” She shook her large head. “Twig has lived with her people and ventured to the human cities. Twig was accepted by humans, despite the Folk saying they would not. Now, Twig is here. To do more things.”
“And what kind of things would you like to do?” I asked. ‘Besides refer to yourself in the third person.'
“Twig is best suited to be a Ranger,” She said. “Through this, Twig would like to show the Folk that they too can be accepted; that they too can do great things.”
‘Interesting.’ I nodded, then turned back to Twig with a conclusive smile. “Well, you have my word that I’ll do what I can to help you do many great things while we're here.”
“Twig would be grateful.” She bowed her head, giving me the unyielding impulse to pat it. But sadly, I didn’t, for there were more bodies on my list seen just across the room.
“Hey, Duke.” I waved on approach. “How’s the team faring?”
“It fares well.” He stepped to the side to turn around, revealing a comparatively small girl sitting at the ‘bar’ with her head down. “Winston has been unsociable since your duel. But his behavior has improved. I was just assigning Toni, here, her position as Rook.”
“Nice to meet you. I'm Amun.” I held out my hand. Then watched her shoot up out of her seat and recoil her hand with wide eyes.
“Wow!” She shouted. “Your hands are fucking cold!”
“Yeah. A side effect of my sorcery.” I shrugged.
Toni, on the other hand, splayed her hands out to me and everyone else as she spun round and around in her chair. “Sorry, everyone!” She sheepishly turned back to me to first palm her chest and reach her hand back out. “Sorry. Uhm. I’m Toni Forester! Oh! Right.” She snapped her hand onto her lap and let out an ugly chuckle.
If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
‘This might be difficult.’ I groaned to myself. But sat next to Toni with a warm smile. She had fair skin, painted with a splattering of freckles, and almost bulbous yellow-green eyes matched with brown hair tied off in a single braid draped over her shoulder. A stark contrast from the klutzy display I was just privy to. “I’m doing my rounds,” I explained to them both. “Trying to get to know everyone on an individual basis in the hopes of efficiently leading the party. backgrounds, magics, goals. Things like that.” I smiled.
“Oh!” Toni perked up. “Well- Uhm, do you know Scarlett?”
“I do.”
“Oh!” She wiped her brow. “That makes this a lot easier! I’m from the Bombyx kingdom." She proudly smiled. "But I’m not a noble or a Druid. I’m from a family of Rangers, like Rebecca!”
“That’s fascinating.”
“Remarkable, I had no idea!”
“Aw! Thanks, you two.” She rubbed the back of her head. “I don’t really know what I wanna do, ya know? But I have Mud and Snow Magic with a 12th Grade Ice Well. What about you?”
‘Ah, fuck.’ I groaned. Then went through the tedious explanation of my cores and my upbringing before telling them of the Classes I was most interested in.
“With your intellect, I assumed you wished to become an Artificer. But a Monk surprises me.” Duke scratched his beak and lost himself in deep thought before eventually turning back to me. “If you wish to know, I too wish to become a Ranger. I am from a mountain peak found far from here. After leaving the nest, I traveled across the lands. I Visited many places. Eventually, however, I came to learn of this place.”
“And now you’re here,” I said. “What comes after?”
“I shall go wherever the wind takes me.”
“Fair enough.” I nodded. Then trailed off once my eyes landed on the stairs leading to our rooms. “On that note, I should go and speak to Winston.”
“He is in his room.” Duke remorsefully declared.
‘Noted.’ I nodded to myself. Then took a few steps away before halting and turning about to face Duke with an inquisitive gaze. “There’s something else I wanted to ask you.”
Duke spread his feathered hands and somehow gave off the aura of a gentle smile. “Ask me anything.”
“I’m curious about Tengu. How do they look? What are they like? Where and how do they live?”
“Ah.” He rocked back on his talons. “Tengu are divine creatures with a similar appearance to us Sapiavi. They have feet, like you all, and their skin is often red. They often have an unsettling expression, such as sadness or anger, and boast long protruding noses. Many believe them to be malevolent, but that is not true. They are simply mischievous and highly skilled in martial combat.; often mixing the two into a form of deadly play. Their willingness to 'play' with other creatures is what makes them evil in the eyes of others, but all Tengu are neutral. With that, I ask. What stems your curiosity?”
“Oh.” I gasped. “I’ve always been fascinated with birds of all kinds, especially owls.” And airplanes. “But any other creature than can fly as well. It’s the ultimate freedom, in my opinion- flying. And I was lucky enough to be given an affinity that lets me do it with ease.”
“So you wish to fly with Tengu?” Duke surmised.
“Or at the very least meet one. And, if possible, befriend one.” I nodded.
“Admirable!” He chirped. “I look forward to the day we fly together.”
“As do I.” I grinned. Then gave him and Toni a final nod before departing down the stairs.
While talking to the entire party didn’t take as long as I thought it would. I still only had the basics of what I wanted- which was everything. Personalities, temperaments, and dispositions. Habits and mannerisms. Internal and external conflicts. Strengths and flaws. Weaknesses and quirks. Any piece of information that I could use to both get them on my side and to give me another thing to do in this assumedly endless lifetime.
That said, I still hadn’t had another talk with Urshure. But it wasn’t too hard to surmise what he was after. His way of speaking made it clear that he had high regard for Tiamat, making it more than likely that he sought to gain power from her by becoming a Warlock. Aside from anything related to that, he wanted to follow his draconic nature by adding to his horde. Traits that were neither good nor bad in my eyes. But I couldn’t ignore that, out of everyone, Urshure had the highest potential of stabbing me in the back someday.
But then again, he’d prove to be a powerful undead if it ever came to that.
That said, I potentially had a way to prevent anyone from ever backstabbing me. So, in all, that left Winston, whom I’ve had little-to-no interaction with since our duel. It wasn't as if he was hateful or even fearful of me, though. He’s just been keeping to himself ever since his defeat. He'd apply himself in class, eat alongside his team in silence, and spend any other ounce of time in his room doing any number of things; there was no way to tell. But whatever it was, I was about to ruin it. Not for the sake of my character sheets or the team positions. Simply because the record needed to be set straight.
***
Winston Epeth.
***
“Mana Veil, Bolstering, Projection.” I let a frustrating sigh ring through my room. “There has to be more.”
Annoyed, I flung the book across the room to lie across my bed. Only to be annoyed even further once I habitually turned to stare at a window that was there and wasn’t all the same. Just an amber glow behind a glass pane that occasionally flashed blue with a blinding intensity. A stark contrast from the endless verdant hills of Epethia.
Letting out another sigh. I rolled into my pillow, muttering under my breath. “I hate this.” I hated living in a room that reminded me of things I’d rather forget. I hated stepping outside to feel shame and embarrassment. I hated not having Issac and Willard by my side. It was becoming too much to bear. But quitting wasn’t an option. All I could do was keep excelling, graduate at the top of the class, take hold of the Epethian Army, and reclaim the vast lands my forebearers threw away.
If only the teachers just told us how to use the techniques instead of explaining what they did before demanding we try them.
"You’ll never learn by laying here,” I muttered into my pillow. Then stood with a heavy sigh to return to my desk a moment later. But then a knock rapped on my door, halting my step for just a moment before another troubled sigh escaped my lungs.
“What do you want, Du-”
Ruefully, a gasp escaped my lips after seeing Amun standing before me with a warm smile that was somehow more off-putting than his impertinent stare. “I’d like to talk,” he said in that emotionlessly slow accent of his. “May I come in?”
Though I wanted to slam the door in his face, a bigger part of me knew it wouldn’t bring me closer to my goals. So I bit my tongue and led him inside without a word.
To little surprise, he entered without words also. His eyes, however, scanned my abode as his chest rose and fell in a deep sigh. Then he turned to me. “I don’t have anything against you, Winston. I just don’t like bullies.”
“So, you become a knight for the misfortunate?” I scoffed. “Don’t make me laugh.”
“I’ll remind you that you were the one who challenged me after I asked why you didn't like me.” Amun dryly chuckled. “Regardless, I don’t fight other people’s battles.” He paused as if there were something more he wanted to say, giving me a hard look until he eventually continued. “That said. The fact that you bully Peter because he used to be a slave bothers me. Deeply.”
“Why does it bother you?” I calmly sneered. “Why do you even care?”
“Because slavery bothers me. Deeply. People- lives are not property.” He said simply, then took a book he was holding under his arm and placed it on the table before he made his way to the door. “But I’m not here to lecture you, Winston. I don’t hate or even dislike you. And I don’t see you as an enemy either. I see us becoming friends, actually. So long as you change your ways. But, of course, whether you do or don’t is up to you.” He turned at the door to face me with that impertinent stare. “Outside of my duties as party leader, I won’t tell you anything. Except for this one thing: Around a week before I arrived off the coast of Rook Island, I paid gold to explore the Inner Sanctum of Epeth.
“I... hated what I saw.” He sneered. “Starved children in rags and chains- covered in scars while they cart people around or worse. Nobles and royals spitting on the very hands that grow their food produced their goods, and provide their wealth. An empire of takers, born from ego and sustained by pride. A culture that destroys and hordes without ever giving back, leaving nothing but ruin in their wake. That- the culture- is the only thing I hate.”
With that, he turned and left before I could even reply. Leaving me staring at the ghost of his visage still standing by the door; trying to come up with a retort and failing no matter how many times I tried.
Not that it mattered.
In an attempt to put him out of my mind, I sat before my desk and came face to face with what he’d left. And after taking one glance at the title, I ripped myself from the seat to throw myself over my bed.
“People are not property?” I scoffed into my pillow. “Tell that to my Mother.”