The much-beloved breakfast dish Tarraose Toast was not actually invented in the nation someone named it after. Instead, the dish was invented in Sollarra but named after the Tarraose bread used to make the meal. Tarraose bread is airy and light, with a crisp crust that covers a spongy inside. In this dish, they batter thick slices of the bread in whipped eggs and flour before being tossed onto a griddle or pan. The meal has a firm, spongy top and bottom with a crisp ring around the edge. These beloved baked goods can be served with a savory sauce and garnish or, more commonly, with maple syrup and a fruit topping.
After a day of hanging out with Nel and Ferris came the day of indoctrination. I woke up in a dark room to a message on my therra that was marked urgent. In a half-awake state, I rolled onto my side and opened the message. It was an announcement for all Tier 1 students from Mysteriarch K.
Attention Tier 1 students,
Welcome back to the academy life, and congratulations on reaching this point in your education. You luckily no longer need to travel to classes in troop formations, but don’t forget the basics. You will have a leisurely morning today, with plenty of time to dress, eat, and prepare for the days to come, both physically and mentally. While Slate students will be collected and introduced to academy life, all you will need to do is stay out from underfoot.
The indoctrination process will start at 9:00 AM, and no two sects will have their rite at the same time to allow Mastloks the ability to participate in all their needed rites. The schedule is as follows:
Sect of the Crimson Blade:9:00 AM - 10:30 AM
Sect of the Blackened Crown: 11:00 AM - 12:30 PM
Sect of the Sightless Eye: 1:00 PM - 2:30 PM
Sect of the Burning Hand: 3:00 PM - 4:30 PM
Sect of the Silent Heart: 5:00 PM - 6:30 PM
Your sect Master Mystagogues will collect you from the auditorium fifteen minutes before your rite starts.
After your Rite(s) are complete, you will be given access to a portion of the prayers and rites of your sect(s). You will find a large majority of your prayers in the academy database. The rites and classified prayers that you have access to can be found in your sect's bibliotorium. These are restricted libraries you will find on sub-level 44. You will ONLY have access to the bibliotorium of your sect(s), and your access will be limited based on your student tier.
Additionally, starting in your Tier 1 training year, you will be introduced to the Team Training Mission System or TTMS. Moving forward, each year, you will have the opportunity to go on supervised training missions out in the world. You can select your teammates up to five in a party with select exceptions determined by the leading trainer. Some missions will have a required party size. This may limit your group size or require additional members.
The mission type you will be sent on will be largely based on the skill and ability composition of your party. These missions are meant to be educational through field experience and specialized training from your supervisor party leads. There can be as many as three instructors to a party of five or more students, but this will also largely depend on the mission you will be sent on. These supervisors are also meant to keep you safe and out of situations you can not handle. But be warned, the danger out there will be very real, and if you act rashly, there will likely be steep consequences.
On a happier note, I hope you all enjoy the remodel by our resident Genius Loci. Improvements have been made across the academy grounds. To all you new Tier 1 trainees, blessings of the Fragments upon you all.
, Mysteriarch Maidra Kaybammin
I skimmed over the message before checking the clock on my hud (Heads Up Display). The time read 6:34 a.m. Normal academy training hours started at 5:30, but if the big-dragon Mysteriarch said that I didn’t need to be anywhere until 9:00, then I was sleeping till 7:30 and taking a long breakfast. I rolled over and dozed in the warm softness of my bed for a while longer, but when I realized I couldn’t actually get back to sleep, I shambled into a hot shower.
After a speedy dress in my new uniform, I made a quick once over in the mirror. The entire ensemble was similar to last year’s. A dark gray cotton t-shirt, black boxer-briefs, and dark gray socks as the underlayer. Over that were pressed pants and a left-breast button-down jacket with a notched lapel, all made from sturdy and mildly elastic black fabric with purple trim. At the shoulders of the jacket was a rank insignia. Last year, it was a stylized eight shape made of straight lines and sharp angles and an open top half shaped like a forked bident, colored silver, purple, and black. My new rank insignia was much the same, only this one had a pair of spikes jutting out from either side of the center of the eight shape. The whole outfit was brought together with a shined pair of black leather combat boots.
I straightened the collar of my jacket before leaning in toward the mirror for a closer look. I straightened the enamel pin of the Academy’s mascot’s head, a Grimmalk, where it sat in my lapel. My gaze raised from the pin to my face in the mirror, then a little higher. Were my horns growing? I honestly couldn’t tell. If they were growing, when would they stop? I knew next to nothing about my own species other than what was shown in the entertainment media. And I couldn’t exactly trust the media. If you listened to what they said and showed in holo-vid shows, movies, video games, comics, and novels, Darklings were always villains. We Darklings were all Cultists, Necromancers, Bloodletters, swindlers, rogues, charlatans, thieves, or any other unsavory title you could think of.
As I made my way to the DEFAC, I thought more about the Darkling thing. I had never met another Darkling. Was I different because of the way I was raised? What about my skin pattern? Was it some condition like albinism only exclusive to Darklings? I had spoken with Dr. Brooksheen last year about my species, and it only raised more questions. She had never even heard of someone with my marble-threaded skin pattern. In addition to that, I apparently had traits of all four breeds of Darkling, which she said shouldn’t be possible. Hells, even my eyes were strange, acid-green irises and diamond-shaped pupils. What in Pandemonium was I?
By this point, I had stepped into the DEFAC and was already in line, waiting to grab my breakfast. Still wrapped up in my brooding, I thoughtlessly picked up a plate of Tarraose Toast, a side of sliced fruit, and a glass of yaggen milk. With food collected, I made my way to the next floor up, to the same table I, Nel, and Ferris had claimed the day prior. I stepped out onto the balcony to find Nennel already at the table, with a tray of food already before her. She had a plate of syrup-laden flapjacks, a double rasher of bacon, an apple, and a glass of orange juice.
“By the Gods above and below. Sis, how can you put away so much? I thought you didn’t have much organic tissue left?”
Nennel looked up at me with a mouthful of pancake, accusation in her eyes. She gave a hard swallow before responding as I took a seat across from her. “Don’t judge a girl on her dietary habits, Iver. While, yeah, I only really have an organic skull, brain, and most of a spine, my cybernetics are a constant drain on my Mystwell and need a supportive power system, but I need as much nutrition as I can get. And even if I have fewer organic components, they are far more taxed than anyone else with cybernetics, so they need more fuel. So quit slinging glass my way.”
“Hey, I was only making a playful jab. How’s the food, anyway?”
Nel gave a weighty shrug. “The pancakes are flat and doughy, the orange juice is watered down, and the bacon is overcooked.”
“And the apple?”
Nel picked up the red fruit and eyed it in annoyance. “It’s the only thing that’s actually good, and I find it to be a tease of the kind of food we don’t have till we reach 6th Tier.”
I looked down at my food with an inspecting eye. The Tarraose Toast did look undercooked. I cut a bite of the toast, slipped it between my lips, and chewed slowly in thought. I was right. The syrup was cold, and the toast was undercooked and soggy with egg batter. My face curdled at the gross texture. I took a swig of my yaggen milk to wash down the slime, only to find the milk was just as unpalatable, lukewarm, and thicker than normal. The milk wasn’t curdled per se, but the milk thickens when warm and is only really enjoyable when served cold. So I washed down cold slime with warm slime and nearly gagged at the surprise. But I forced the substance down, violently shaking my head in a reflexive effort to clear the taste and texture.
I looked up to find Nel watching me with a pitying smile. “It looks like your breakfast is even grosser than mine. Bad luck, brother.”
I gave a wordless nod of affirmation before looking down at my meal in disappointment and frustration. “Yeah. Just my luck that I picked a meal that is truly gross.” I gave a weighty sigh. “But I need to finish this dreck. I’d rather not have to go hungry during the ceremonies.” I took a deep breath and dived back into the food, forcing the meal down as fast as I could to keep my misery as short as possible.
Most of my way through the terrible excuse for a meal, a shape slipped into the seat beside me. “Hey guys, sorry I’m late. Waking up was crazy hard this morning.” Ferris apologized with hurried words. He turned to me and raised his brow. “Your food that good, Ives’?”
“Just the opposite.” Nel corrected. “He’s guzzling the slime to keep the suffering short.”
“Oh.” was all Ferris managed to say as I finished the Tarraose Toast. I clenched the glass of slime milk in a white knuckle grip before throwing it back and chugging it all. As I finished the glass, I slammed it down against the table hard enough to make all the trays atop it jump. My body gave a shudder so intense that it was almost a convulsion.
“By the way, Iver. I was wondering, because of your sect position, which indoctrination rite are you taking part in?”
“Yeah, I was wondering the same.” Came Ferris in agreement.
I smacked my lips and tongue a couple of times in a vain effort to get the taste out of my mouth before answering. “I need to keep up appearances as a type 3 Mastlok. So I’m taking part in the rites for Crimson Blade, Burning Hand, and Blackened Crown. But I will have a rite for my actual sect tonight.”
“Dude, I wish I could join your sect. It sounds so cool.” bemoaned Ferris.
I looked at him with a skeptical expression. “Ferris… How in the nine hells does getting stabbed, slashed, beaten, bruised, and broken several times a day sound cool to you?”
“That was your schizo uncle, not the actual training of your sect. Mystagogue Navor was very clear about that over Nel’s and mine’s extra training. While she’s a grumpy old iron horse, she’s actually really an awesome instructor once you get past her gruff attitude.” Ferris said.
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“Really? The Beast Eater is actually a good instructor?” I asked.
“Yeah.” Nennel agreed. “Don’t get me wrong. The lady drinks like a fish, smokes like a forge, and has all the manners of an irritable goblin. But the Mystagogue was always patient with us and very insightful.”
I gave a huff of amused surprise. The lady seemed like a brutal master from what little I saw of her at the end of last school year. “Well, you two do know that you can join the Dark Hunters even after your Slate year. If you can prove your skills to Navor, you can join at any time, to my knowledge.”
“Really?!” Nel and Ferris exclaimed in tandem.
“Remember, Rose joined when she was a Tier 1 trainee.” I reminded them.
“Damn, I totally spaced on that fact.” said Ferris.
“Our Fragments’ sacred grace.” Cursed Nennel. “But don’t we need to have access to our Mystwells?”
“Rose didn’t. She was using MyCast. As an alternative, you could always become a Theurgic Mages.” I pointed out.
For those that don’t know, Mages like Sorcerers and Wizards are what are known as Solidim Mages. They use a hard set system of equations and metaphysical laws using runes and raw myst to cast spells. Theurgic Mages are mages that gain their magic powers from a higher power like a God or Titan. Theurgic Magic had looser laws that applied to them because they were coming from an immortal entity that could warp reality.
“Hot damn.” said Ferris.
It was at that point I stood. “You two should hurry and finish your sad excuses for meals. We all are participating in the Crimson Blade rite and should get there early.”
“Shit, you’re right.” cursed Ferris before he started shoveling a plate of sausage and bacon into his mouth. Nel did the same even as I told them I would wait for them at the DEFAC doors. I left with my tray in hand, putting it in the collection receptacle on the ground floor before doing as I said, waiting just outside the doors to the DEFAC, with my hands in my pockets.
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It wasn’t a full five minutes before the two rejoined me. Together, we made our way to the auditorium at Aegis Hall. By the time 9:00 AM rolled around, the large room was filled with a couple hundred students that ran the range of species, from the largest of Dracose, to the shortest of Ceangar, the broadest of Orcs, to the lithest of Elves. Each and almost every single student came armed with at least one form of weapon. I saw blades in all shapes and sizes, a good number of melee blunt weapons like maces, mauls, and war hammers, a couple of bows, and nearly everyone with a one-handed melee implement was also equipped with a sidearm of some sort.
It was as I was examining all the weapons in the room I noticed Nel and Ferris’s weapons. Ferris was armed with a short sword at the small of his back, the infusion dagger I made him at his left hip, and a revolver at his right hip. Nel was armed with two daggers at the small of her back and a Snuffer elemental pistol at each hip. Both of them wore ammunition belts for their sidearms.
After a while, I noticed a number of confused glances directed my way. I found this a strange difference from the glares of disdain and disgust I normally got until I realized that Venna was still cloaked on my arm, so I looked totally unarmed. While I wasn’t the only one who appeared to be lacking for weapons, everyone else who lacked a weapon were all obviously unarmed martial artists with wrapped hands and feet, knuckle guards and foot guards, or very callused and scarred hands. Me, on the other hand (no pun intended), had soft, unscarred hands aside from calluses on the pads of my fingers from crafting and weapon training. In a hurried panic, I dropped to cloaking on Venna, which drew even more attention to me as a complex clawed gauntlet just seemed to appear on my right hand. I felt a blush burning my cheeks as I gave a timid grin to no one in particular. The sudden development changed all the confused looks toward me into angry and offended glares like I had deceived all of them.
As I pressed my lips together in a tight line of shame and embracement, Nel playfully jabbed me in the shoulder as she said, “Ignore the twits. They're all just jealous that you can hide your gear and gain the advantage of surprise.”
When I realized that there was no winning with this crowd because of my species and less-than-bulky build, I just gave a heavy sigh and did my best to ignore the looks. It wasn’t long after that a large figure stepped up to the stage and gave three loud claps to quiet the drone of talk in the room. She was an Orc, a Gorren to be precise, a cross between two Orc breeds. This was made obvious by her green-brown skin. She wasn’t even tall for an Orc, and short by Gredgore breed standards, only standing just over six feet tall. But she was a presence in the room that was not to be toyed with. Her right eye and the right side of her jaw were bare cybernetics, not even covered with synth-skin. She wanted everyone to see the maiming. There was a long and deep scar running across the bridge of her nose that reached each of her cheekbones. Her body was covered in thick, corded muscle that bulged even through her Master Mystagogue uniform. She was Master Mystagogue Derrnia Bail, also known as the Iron Jawed Master.
“Quiet down, trainees. If you don’t recognize me, then you’ve been lax in your studying. I will be leading you to the Indoctrination Chamber of the Crimson Blade. This will also be the maiden voyage of our new class freight elevator. So don’t fall off the platform and make a fool of yourself by needing medical aid on day one.” She turned away from the student body before spinning a single finger above her head in a group-up gesture. “Now form up. I want nine breaker formations. You know what to do.”
Without the need for another command, students formed up into groups of fifty. Nel, Ferris, and I joined the same group. Each breaker formation comprised five columns of students aligned in ten rows. Systematically, the shorter students tapped the right shoulder of the taller students ahead of them, the taller side-stepping before stepping back until the tallest were at the back. After that process was finished, the front-left most student took command and ordered a left turn. As one, all students in the formation took a half step back with their left foot and pivoted on the right to face to the left. Then the shoulder tapping continued until the tallest student was in the rear right corner, and the shortest was in the foremost left position. I wound up near the center of the breaker, as I had in my Slate class formation. Nel and Ferris were both on my left side, Ferris directly beside me, Nel right in front of him.
The new student in the front left position took command of the formation, turning to back to face front. After each breaker was in the appropriate shape, the Master organized the breakers into a single five-person wide column. Master Bail then opened a hidden door in the left wall that spanned thirty feet across and twenty feet high. The door revealed a single large platform.
One by one, the breaker formations were directed onto the platform, where the Master directed it to an unknown subfloor. The platform dropped at a rate faster than even the mirror-walled elevators from the year prior, but not that a pace anywhere near dangerous. After a few minutes, the platform returned, and the next breaker was ushered in. I was part of the last breaker to enter, which was accompanied by Master Bail. The door to the freight elevator closed behind my breaker, and the platform dropped fast enough to make my stomach lift, and my heart skip a beat.
I don’t know how many floors we passed, but after a short period of time that I couldn’t really track, the platform slowed to a gradual stop. As the door to the new subfloor opened, the formation lead at the front commanded an about-face, and as one, each student turned one hundred and eighty degrees, and the new student and the front left position, the tallest in the formation took command and gave a marching cadence to direct us out of the space. I was annoyed to find the new formation led to be Brecken Stonefange, the Dracose from Mallrimor’s gang of thugs.
We entered an expansive, rough-hewn cavern. two rows of black, purple, and red banners marked with the symbol of the sect lined the length of the long cavern hanging from the ceiling. These banners lightly danced over two rows of just as many ornate braziers lit with brilliant purple and red flames. At the back of the long cavern stood a massive statue. As we entered deeper into the space and were directed to form three rows on either side of the cave, just outside the braziers, I got a better look at the statue of a female figure.
She stood sixteen feet tall, dressed in a full plate chest piece, and grieves over monk robes. Her face was strikingly beautiful, but the socket of her right eye was empty. In the palm of her left hand was a sphere of silvery gray metal tinged with blue that glowed with a faint light. In her left hand was an ornate blade held point down between her feet. A half circle of Mystagogues stood at the base of the statue, each holding their weapon in a fashion that was clearly ceremonial.
As soon as all the students were in place, the Master Mystagogue stepped up just under the foot of the statue. When she turned to face the student body, she spoke, her voice amplified to fill the space. “Those of you that actually studied the origin of our Fragments of the Forgotten Goddess, you should know the origin of each of these fragments. But I will remind you of our fragments story. Ranna Kelthain, commonly known as Her Fragment of the Warrior’s Eye, is the embodiment of the Goddess’s combat prowess. When the Goddess shattered, Ranna was full of rage at the break and developed a bloodlust when she claimed the legendary blade Dredger, which was secretly a cursed blade. Under Dredger’s influence, she hunted down and killed Immortals, which fed the blade on their essence. When she was confronted by Gantinthue, the Elven God of Wisdom, he disarmed her, and broke the curse, and bestowed her with the Water of Wisdom. As Her Fragment found peace, she also found a purpose in knowing when to fight and when to make an effort for peace. She developed a love for the grace and beauty in the flow of honorable combat. When she looked back at the brutality she caused, she was heartbroken, and in an act of repentance, she tore out her own right eye.” The Master gestured to the statue behind her. “As you can see in her monument here in her hand, she replaced her lost eye with a sphere of pure Luminite.”
Master Bail then pointed an accusing finger at the student body before her. “Today, you shall make sacred vows to Her Fragment. Upon making these vows, it is your duty as a member of this Order to uphold the tenets she has laid down for us. Even if Her Fragment is unknown to the majority of the world and your vows are to be secret, your duty is to never act rashly and strive for peace whenever possible.”
Bail then tapped her therra and made two quick motions. Almost instantly, after she did this, I received a notification that I had been sent a document. Even as I made the motions to open the document, I noticed everyone else in the room doing the same. “I have just sent you the instructions on how to perform the rite. Read over the instructions as you wait for you to be called forward. Starting from the far left of the first row, I will call each of you forward. As you finish your rite, move to the back of the room, and the next row moves forward.” The Master explained. She then waited for a few minutes before checking to make sure the first trainee was ready.
I read the instructions several times and paid attention to each student before me. By the time it became my turn, I had it totally memorized. As Master Mystagogue Bail called me forward, I pulled off Venna and held her under an arm as I did as everyone else before me had. I stepped up to the Master Mystagogue, trying my best not to seem nervous in front of the mass of students and instructors. The Orcish woman handed me a chalice forged from Luminite. The rare metal famous for enhancing those who used equipment made from it thrummed in my hands. I peered into the chalice. The red-black fluid it contained was Yellerra, a ceremonial alcoholic brew. I held the chalice in both hands even as I brought it to my lips and tipped it back. I took two swallows of the tart and tangy fluid before lowering it. I then offered my right hand to the Master. Without hesitation, the large woman took my hand in a surprisingly gentle grip of one hand, her palm and fingers rough with calluses. She drew a ceremonial dagger known as a Kurkina across my right palm. I only barely winced; my nerves dulled to the concept of pain. The moment the blade left my hand, I squeezed it into a fist to spread blood across my palm and finger. I then covered my right eye with the scarlet hand, leaving a handprint over my eye.
With my eye covered, I recited, “Nemor Sellona Ranna Kelthain. Bloonra fos Kelthain. Physsoran fos Kelthain. Solltra fos Kelthain.” The language spoken had long since been mostly forgotten, known as Grenorran. The rough translation was; I do swear myself to Ranna Kelthain. Blood for Kelthain. Body for Kelthain. Soul for Kelthain.
After I recited the verses, I moved my wounded hand over the chalice and squeezed until blood dripped into the Yellerra. Six drops, exactly. Each drop burst into small scarlet flames when it made contact with the fluid. I handed the chalice back to the Master, who turned to climb a narrow staircase beside the statue. She reached just above the statue’s hand holding the Luminite sphere. She poured the cocktail over the orb to flow through a trough to reach the down-turned blade and flow down the face of the stone weapon to pool in a bowl at the statue’s feet. After a few heartbeats, the blood vanished, and a voice flowed into my mind. “Sacred child of two worlds, take my blessing and stay strong. May the iron of your blood become iron in your soul. Remember what I stand for and uphold.” The voice was a soft female tone with warm notes in her words of wisdom.
Without another word, I turned and made my way to the back of the cavern. Because I was in the last breaker to enter, I was near the end of the ceremony. After the last student performed her rite, we were commanded to reform our breaker formations and left the cave in the reverse order we had come in. My breaker was the first to reach the auditorium, and the moment we left the lift, the formation dissolved, and groups of students each went their own way. Me, Nel, and Ferris were no different.
Wordlessly, I lead the other two outside the building and around to the back of Aegis Hall. The moment we were out of line of sight, I spun to face the other two. “Did you guys hear a voice during your rite?”
“Yeah.” Nel answered.
“It was so weird.” Ferris said. “She called me a child of twin blood. Said I was stronger than even I knew and to keep a kind heart even in dark times.”
Both he and I turned to Nel, who looked uncomfortable. After a long moment, she spoke in a nervous tone. “She called me the broken child. Said I must not waver in trying times and remind those around me of honor and heart.”
I could see why she felt uncomfortable. But then they both turned to me, and I was reminded of what the voice said to me. “She called me a child of two worlds. She told me to take her blessings and stay strong. She also said something about the iron in my blood becoming iron in my soul.” I looked down at my open hands for a few moments before clenching them into fists. “Honestly, I’m confused. What she called you guys makes sense. Even her advice makes some kind of sense. But me… Child of two worlds. What does that even mean?”
Nel and Ferris looked at each other before turning back to me. “I have less than a clue about that two worlds bit.” Ferris said. “But hey, the goddess, if that’s who she was, gave you her blessing. That’s more than we got. Plus, that talk about iron and blood sounds like she’s talking about your magic.”
I turned my head away from my friends and gave a weighty and annoyed sigh. “I’ll find you guys later. I’m going back to the auditorium since my next rite is the next one up.”