Rollo sometimes wished the strikers acted more like military force instead of a group of highly specialized criminals. If they did, his juniors wouldn't behave so familiar with him like these pair of newly trained strikers that sat in his office.
One was a boy named Dagfinn. His height and build were nothing special, but his noble features gave him an aura of superiority even if he rarely felt that way. With a neatly trimmed head of red hair and green eyes, he seemed more like a picture than a real person. However, that pretty face was currently sporting bruised skin and a split lip. The injuries didn’t dampen his mood though, as a striker in training that would have earned him more.
For Rollo’s students, being hurt was just another day. If the wound didn’t incapacitate, you were expected to not complain or receive more as punishment.
Rollo was glad to see the training was bearing fruit. Three years ago, Dagfinn would have been wallowing in a pit of misery if not crying. Now, he played with strings of mana wrapped around his fingers trying to make more complex designs, his bruises all forgotten.
The other student was a girl named Cora. She was a bit on the taller side with sun-kissed skin, light brown hair, and blue eyes. She was comely in her own way but could be a bit imposing with her muscular features, not that she minded.
Growing up around strikers her entire life seemed to have shaped her sense of what was normal. That would be a problem if Rollo ever meant for her to spy in a fanciful court of painted lies and grand duos posturing. As she was now, Cora was more suited to spilling blood or a mission like the one Rollo had in mind.
Unlike Dagfinn, she hadn't been wounded. They both just returned from fighting without magic, Cora making sure not to get hit in the face. She was now trying her best to sit prettily in a doomed attempt to gain Rollo’s attention. He wished she’d stop, but Rollo and his wife enjoyed his current attractive face, and he didn't feel like changing it, not for another few years at least.
Taking two rectangular mirrors from his desk, Rollo placed them in front of his students. “Congratulations. As of now you're both strikers and have been assigned a mission.”
“Are you fucking serious!” Dagfinn exclaimed.
Cora punched the excited boy in the arm. “This is an obvious test. Calm down.”
“No test,” Rollo reassured. “I’m pulling you out early. Both of you are already strong enough to go into the field and it doesn't matter if you can only write in four languages for where you’re going. By tonight, you’ll be sworn in.”
Dagfinn and Cora looked on in shock. They’d been told it would be at least a year before they were made real strikers. Both were ahead of most combat-wise, but they weren’t the best. Their training told them if Rollo wanted to use them early, there was a good reason.
“What’s the catch?” Dagfinn asked suspiciously.
“No catch Finny. In truth, many would kill for this kind of post, literally. But you’re the only ones young enough with the backgrounds needed for this to work. You’ll be enrolled in Prometheus Hall starting tomorrow in order to protect these two.”
Rollo pointed at the glass he on his table gesturing for his now-former student to pick up. When they did, an image appeared on both.
One was the image of a young man in what looked to be an arena. His age couldn’t be determined easily, but his skin was almost as dark as a drow’s and he was taller than most. The glass showed his arms holding a smaller man’s head in a suffocating lock while smiling despite the wounds across his body.
The other image showed a beast kin girl with dark black hair lined with blonde streaks. She was young, maybe 11 or 12, and wore a loose-fitting tunic without any shoes thanks to her beast-like feet. By her tail and ears, it was clear she was lion kin and for somehow favored by nobility by the training garb she wore.
After Dagfinn and Cora traded mirrors, Rollo continued. “The young man you see is two years your junior. He was supposed to join our ranks soon but was recruited by some foreign nobles that are also attending the Hall. His focus is unknown, but he is not without skill.”
“Didn’t know we had any Jabari in Vellia,” Cora stated.
"Or that they still exist," Dagfinn added. "Thought they went extinct."
"I did too until now," Rollo said eying the picture another time.
He almost didn't believe Makarov when he described the new recruit. Jabari were more of a myth than dryads, elves, and even dwarves. They were all real but in far off worlds beyond rifts in space but the Jabari didn't have a home on Vanaheim, Niflheim, or the lost Asgard. They were said to only be on Midgard, at least they used to be several hundred years past.
Rollo sighed and placed the glass image down. His job didn't include the boy's origin or where his people were, and, he had a more important charge to think about.
"As for the girl," Rollo continued. "She is the daughter of Elbert Bryer and will also be attending the Hall,” He spoke over the shocked expression in front of him. “This is the first time a beast kin will be allowed to enter the hall. The Bryer’s had to throw a lot of weight around to get it done. Some of that weight came from Dreyark so she’s partly our investment too. Her focus,” Rollo paused for dramatic effect. “Is summoning, like her father.”
“No wonder the old man’s interested,” Cora said. “Has any god tried to contact her?”
“We don’t know. It could be that as a beast kin she only interacts with gods not synonymous with war, at least that’s my hope. No one is encroaching on the King’s Road and there are plenty of summoners to defend it if there were. If she summoned one of the lesser gods, one that actually helped people, she could do lots of good for those off the road. Either way, she is an unknown the old man would like to observe. But where we want to observe, others might want to eliminate. She’s the first of her kind to be taught magic and is technically in line for the throne even if it would take around 50 deaths to make it hers.”
“50 deaths don’t sound too hard for us,” Cora said with a laugh.
“Forget any old war stories you’ve been told,” Rollo said in a serious tone. “the oath prevents even us from even thinking about harming royals.”
“Ok, ok,” Dagfinn said. “I get protecting the girl, but why this dark fellow.”
“He’s different,” Rollo answered with a shrug. “His attendance may help bring in more non-humans to the hall even if he is technically human.”
Rollo pulled two letters out of his pocket handing them over to Dagfinn and Cora. “Let me make this clear. This is an easy mission that many, many, strikers would want. But you two won’t be noticed by Brand, that’s the Jabari. He grew up in Saint Hilda's so we can't use most of our younger strikers. And with your parents in Dreyark’s employ, we can easily explain why you're being sent to the Hall.” Rollo looked over at Cora. “Cora, your gates will be sealed temporarily. Release them as needed.”
“Come on, really,” Cora complained tapping a well-toned bicep. “I’m about to open my fifth gate.”
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“Yes, they will be sealed,” Rollo answered. “Now read what is in the letter. It will help with your cover.”
****
Tanya wished her father allowed her to wear a hood. Too many eyes were on her. Whenever she looked up, several people looked away to hide their interest. Worst were her would-be teacher monks that didn’t bother to look away. They lived to discover new things and teaching a beast kin apparently was apparently an exciting new field of study.
With a long white robe brandishing a fiery red design, one of the monks walked past the rest confronting Tanya with a smile. “Hello Miss Tanya and welcome to the great hall,” the monk said. “May I offer my assistance.”
Tanya gave a small bow to the man. “Thank you, but I’ve already chosen my studies for the year.”
“What are your interests!” the monk practically begged. “My field is the uses of lighting for battle and practical applications, a subject few attest to being proficient in.”
Tanya was about to politely excuse herself when an angry voice caught everyone's attention.
“What the hells you mean basic combat!” the voice shouted.
“Must be some noble that thinks he’s too skilled to start with the basic combat mysteries,” Tanya thought to herself.
“Sure, I can't read rune script yet!” the voice continued. “But I kicked your ass easy enough! Why do you get to skip this class?”
Tanya got a good look at the voice’s owner mostly due to him towering over the rest of the crowd. The stranger had dark skin and yellow eyes that seemed to glow in the dimly lit hall. He stood by the monk in charge of assigning classes based on the written and magic examinations they all had taken before entering.
“One needs a foundation before building a home,” explained the monk.
Tanya decided to leave for her room. The odd-looking man was interesting, but she hated the crowd of monks mobbing him as they had her. Using the respite caused by his anger, she made her way to her room leaving for her first class soon after.
****
Brand walked into his first class in a foul mood. He’d just found out joining Azmina or even Rohaan in class was not possible.
After paying for their tuition, a monk of Prometheus gave them all a physical exam. It had just been one of the older monks looking them up and down with glowing eyes. When he finished staring at them, the monk declared whether they were to become magi or cultivators. With that done, they were then made to take a written test.
Brand thought the test was to show his current mastery of letters which was far better than most from the Nulls given Magan’s teachings, but to his dismay, the test was to measure someone’s knowledge of runes.
Brand naturally failed the test, him knowing only a handful of runes from a few days of study. Even so, he did not worry. He might not be able to study magics with Azmina, but he could join her in the combat classes the hall offered, or at least that’s what he thought.
Having no foundation in runes apparently meant he couldn’t take the first of many combat classes, or combat mysteries as the monks put it. Azmina and even Rohaan had been allowed, them at least knowing some even if not being able to use most basic runes. For Brand to ever take classes with the two siblings he’d need to not only pass a test to move onto higher-level courses, but he’d have to do it faster than Azmina passed her own.
The worst part was that Brand already knew he could defeat both Akram siblings. He bested Rohaan moments after opening his first gate and Azmina a few days later.
The girl had an interesting focus, being able to evaporate solid matter, but her only offensive ability was to shoot mage bolts from her hands. The bolts hurt almost bringing Brand to his knees as they hit him with the force of sledgehammers, but if he covered his head and made sure not to step into any holes in the ground she made to trip him, closing the gap was easy. If she could use a baculous like Aleen then he would lose without a doubt, but she had yet to learn how to effectively.
Now Brand was left to go into his first class by himself and very irritated. The irritation was made worse as he got a whiff of the large room runecraft mysteries were taught in before even entering. The room smelled of what the nobility thought to be perfume, but in a confined space it was almost unbearable.
Wanting to gag, Brand entered the room and took in the decor. It reminded him of the upper floors of the pits. Every chair was wrapped in rich leather. The walls were painted in reds and yellows as if attempting to mimic the look of fire. Illumination he’d come to know as mage lights shined from above bathing the room in a soft white.
The teacher, a female monk with grayish blonde hair and the smallest hint of a wrinkle cresting her eyes sat in the front of the room reading a large book. The source of the awful perfume came from the mass of students at the back of the class. They had the look of nobles with their brightly colored vest layered with far more pockets and belts than needed.
A row ahead of them sat commoners that had been essentially bought by the nobles as Brand had been. They all most likely had elemental focuses. If someone could spit fire all they had to do in order to leave the Nulls was walk up to a city guard and display their power. Soon after, you’d be taken in as a guard or soldier to whatever patron would have you.
Most of these students, including Brand, wore robes provided by the Hall resembling the monks. Brand briefly pondered sitting with them but headed for the one part of the room everyone seemed to avoid.
Towards the right side of the room was a young beast kin girl dressed in noble garb. No one sat close to her freeing up seats for Brand to take for himself. Better yet, the girl probably didn’t use the awful perfume due to her greater sense of smell.
Taking a seat next to the girl, Brand pushed the chair in front of him forward like he owned that side of the room.
The beast kin and the rest of the room finally noticed Brand’s presence as he sat down sending the room into shocked silence that had become all too familiar.
The monk closed her book and chuckled. “Ha, I’ve got the Jabari in my class.”
“What’s a Jabari,” asked a girl Brand didn't bother to look at.
“Is that a drow?” asked another boy.
Brand ran a hand through his hair. The entire day he’d been hounded by on looking monks and students that had never seen a Jabari before. Some students demanded he be removed from the Hall because non-humans weren't allowed to attend. But Prometheus was a god that didn't bend to the king or even the Aesir.
In theory, anyone could walk into the hall, gain great power, and never leave instead becoming a monk to teach future students. they'd die the moment they left the walls of the Hall but while inside they were safe.
Even though the monks did help, they were annoying in their own way. Many offered him gold to experiment on his body. One even offered him gold for a lock of his hair. Now, with one less lock of hair, Brand was used to the surprise he brought with him into every room.
The monk in charge looked at a small pocket watch before addressing the class. “Settle down everyone, it’s about time to start.”
“Why is there drow and beast here?” asked a finely dressed girl at the center of the clustered nobles.
“Because they walked in the front door,” answered the monk condescendingly. “Anyone within these walls will be taught regardless of how anyone feels about it, Marla,” the monk said, wielding the girl’s name like a weapon. “They don't even have to pay as long as they serve a few decades a monk.
Marla’s pale features turned a bit red at being called by her first name so casually. “You will address me as-”
“Oh, hush that haughty mouth of yours,” the Monk interrupted. “Within these walls, there are no last names, great houses, or snobby little girls that think they can talk to me like that. Your tutors should have told you this before coming here but just in case they did not, I can say what I want, do what I want, and teach who I want. If you don't like that, then leave or be made to leave.”
Marla paused, but she seemed to fight through the sense staying her tongue. “Non-humans aren’t allowed to learn magic.”
“Firstly,” the monk stated while stretching her back as she stood up. “I don't care what law rules beyond the walls of this temple. Secondly, the law on not teaching non-humans has been amended.”
Marla huffed before sitting down, defeated by the anonymity gifted to the monks that serving Prometheus.
“And for those who don't know,” the monk continued gesturing to Brand. “That young man is human. He is from a people that lived to the far south on a continent lost during Ragnarök.”
Brand nodded his head to the room in greeting.
The commoners looked on in silent shock as the nobles started shouting in protest with one boy sitting beside Marla laughing at the entire scene. Brand just smiled like he belonged while ignored the offended glares sent his way.
looking to his right, Brand realized the beast kin was in a similar situation as him. As far as he knew kin weren't allowed to learn magic. maybe that changing was the only reason he was allowed in the Hall, or allowed entry at least.
A thunderclap suddenly shook the room causing everyone to cover their ears. “Now that I have your attention,” the monk said after waiting a minute to let the classes regain their hearing. “I am Sister Merwyn and will be teaching you all simple rune working. If you don't like it then leave, but I'm the only one teaching this course for next year.”
Raising a hand, Merwyn willed mage light into the air taking the shape of several dozen runes Brand didn’t recognize. “Before we start learning about what these runes do, I’ll discuss the god that found the first set known as Norse runes.”
That surprised Brand and many of the other common students. They’d never heard of how the runes were found but hadn't assumed them to be a gift from a god.
Merwyn smiled at seeing the many confused faces in the room. “Who here has not heard of Odin, the hanged god.”