The next day dawned far too early.
Clay was a farmer’s son, however, and he woke regardless of how tired he felt and how late he’d stayed up reading. The [Chant] of Heart’s Light had given him plenty of illumination, even without a candle, but it couldn’t replace the lost rest. Still, he had his first training with Orn that day, and if he wanted breakfast before it, he needed to move quickly.
Washing and dressing in his narrow, cramped quarters proved to be an interesting endeavor, but luckily the [Chant] of Pure Touch helped to clean his clothes easily enough. He spent a precious few minutes looking over the notes he’d taken the night before, organizing them into something coherent and useful for later in the day, and then he went out to try to find the kitchens.
It took him a while, navigating mostly by the smell of fresh bread and sausage, but he finally found his way there. There were few other people there—apparently the adventurers in the Academy were not fond of early mornings—but he still found plenty of warm food, which looked like a feast to his tired, hungry eyes.
He came away from the counter with two plates piled high with eggs, bacon, and bread. Clay had settled down at a table and started to devour the lot of it when he saw Anne walk in, accompanied by another woman he didn’t recognize. The friendly adventurer waved at him and turned to talk to her companion for a moment. After some low conversation, they ducked into the kitchens and returned with their own plates.
Clay had just managed to finish one plate before they sat down with him. Anne grinned. “Well, hello there! Heard that you put on quite the show yesterday for your initiate’s trial.”
He took a precious moment to finish chewing and swallow before he answered. “I suppose I did. Do you think I made an impression?”
“I’d say so. Half the people here are talking about you, in one way or another.” Anne looked back at her friend, who was standing with her own plate in hand. She was a shorter woman, though a little taller than Anne was, with brown hair that had been gathered back into a ponytail. The woman wore a simple hooded tunic, like Anne’s, but much more richly embroidered. While Anne could probably blend into the background of any crowd, her friend seemed far more likely to stand out. “This is Natalie. She’s another one of our group of initiates. Natalie, I’d like to introduce you to Sir Clay. You’re probably going to be seeing him around now.”
Clay stood slightly and extended his hand. “Good to meet you, Syr Natalie.”
She set down her plate and shook his hand. As they sat back down, she gave him a slight smile. “I heard you were using rather interesting techniques yesterday, Sir Clay. Are those a part of your [Class]?”
He paused a moment, both to force down the next chunk of bread and take a moment to consider things. “No. I’m a [Commoner], so I don’t have anything magic that comes from my [Class] directly.”
Natalie abruptly leaned back in her chair, as if surprised, and Anne grinned at her. “See? I told you. That’s what Jack was saying yesterday, too. He’s a [Commoner].”
The other adventurer turned and glared at her. “You can’t blame me for being skeptical, Anne. Don’t act like half the things that come out of your mouth aren’t… enthusiastically reimagined.”
Anne rolled her eyes. “Oh please. I just make life more interesting.” Natalie snorted derisively, and they turned back to him.
“So if it’s not from your [Class], how were you doing all of that? I heard you were flying and controlling your weapons from a distance.”
Clay frowned. “Have you ever heard of [Chants]? All [Classes] can use them, as long as your [Memory] and other [Stats] are high enough. There are some tricks to using them, but even [Commoners] should be able to use half the ones I do.”
Anne gave Natalie a triumphant look, and the woman sighed. “All right, all right, you weren’t exaggerating this time.” She turned back to Clay. “Do you happen to have a list of these [Chants]? I would be very interested in learning them.”
He winced. “I do… but Master Taylor has currently borrowed them. She promised that she’d return them soon.”
Natalie grimaced, and Anne patted her sympathetically on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, he might get them back someday.”
Alarmed, Clay looked back and forth between them. “Someday?”
“Master Taylor has a habit of… acquiring things.” Anne sniffed. “Not that there’s anything wrong with grabbing stuff. It just seems like she gets away with it far too easily.”
Natalie shook off her scowl. “Could you teach me the [Chants] yourself, Sir Clay? I would… appreciate the help.”
“Sure.” Then he glanced out the window and sighed. “It’s just… I have a lot to do today. Maybe after my class with Master Taylor this afternoon.”
The sympathy on their faces was not encouraging. Despite that fact, Clay hurried through the rest of his meal and headed over to where Orn was waiting.
Hours later, Syr Katherine shook her head. “I’m afraid I can’t approve of teaching others the [Chants], Sir Clay. They are dangerous.”
Clay gave her a disbelieving look. His entire body was one mass of half-healed bruises, scrapes, and aches. Orn hadn’t quite spent the two whole hours beating on him, but in a lot of ways it felt like he had. He’d forced Clay to adjust how he stood, to practice how he held his spear, even to practice being shoved or pulled without falling over. It had been exhausting, and one of the Academy’s healers had been by to soothe some of the strains and injuries he’d gotten.
One thing that practice had not been was entirely safe. To hear that a [Chant] like Firm Step or Heart’s Light was somehow more dangerous than weapon practice seemed ridiculous.
Still, Katherine seemed very serious. She sat across from him in her study, a relatively well-furnished room with much more luxurious chairs than Master Taylor’s office. Katherine’s desk was clean, and her books were all well-organized on the bookshelves behind her. Three tall, wide windows lined the outer wall, and the fall sunlight filtered through them to light the room well. Katherine herself was sitting behind her desk, her green eyes fixed on him. There was no compromise in her expression.
Clay gathered himself and tried to let out a calming breath. “As adventurers, I’d think that everyone here is ready to take risks. Otherwise, how are we going to be able to face the monsters?”
Syr Katherine leaned forward slightly, steepling her fingers in front of her. “I did not say it would be dangerous for the adventurers. I said it would be dangerous.”
He blinked and went back over the situation in his mind. Realization soon dawned. “You’re worried that someone will try to create a new Lair.”
She nodded. “It is a concern, yes.”
“But I won’t be teaching them that one. They wouldn’t even be able to…” He trailed off as he remembered the desiccated corpses surrounding the Lair in Tanglewood. That adventurer had been warned he wasn’t strong enough, and he’d attempted it, anyway. The resulting Lair had claimed countless lives across the generations since.
“Anyone is capable of using that particular [Chant], Sir Clay. From the lowliest [Commoner] to the most experienced adventurer.” Katherine placed her hands palms down on the desk and leaned back. “What’s worse, the [Chant] in question behaves… oddly. I’m sure you noticed.”
Clay thought back to those desperate moments when he’d discovered the book that contained the forbidden [Chant]. The thing had been unlike any other spell he’d known; it had wanted to be used, had wormed its way into his mind and nearly forced its way out of him. What if he hadn’t had enough [Will] to resist it? What if he hadn’t been willing to fight back?
“I did.” He shuddered. Then he shook his head. “Still, as long as they don’t find that [Chant]…”
“[Chants] are hidden away in almost every corner of the world, in books and scrolls from here to the Void Sea.” Katherine shook her head. “Did you think your village Shrine was unique? Even if our forebears had been wise enough to suppress that particular [Chant], they couldn’t suppress the reversed form without denying themselves the chance to close the Lairs that already existed.”
“And as long as one exists, the other will, too.” He sat back, thinking over the situation. “At the same time, wouldn’t the adventurers have sworn the Oath? Their stones would tell you if they intended to break it.”
“That wouldn’t prevent them from being a massive problem, especially if we didn’t know where they had gone. If the first Opening didn’t kill them, they could potentially create dozens of Lairs before we could track them down and kill them.” Katherine’s expression grew shadowed, and her eyes stared into the space between them without seeming to see Clay anymore. “Worse, each one would give them increasing amounts of power. They could easily reach a point where the Guild would no longer be able to face them.”
Clay frowned, thinking over the problem. “So your solution isn’t to avoid [Chants] entirely. I’ve seen you use them at least twice, and there are plenty of adventurers who seem to have access to them here.”
“All of a relatively high level. They are all members of the Guild who have proven themselves over the years. No one else is generally permitted to have access to the library, where the information we have about the [Chants] are all kept.”
His eyes narrowed slightly, and he abruptly realized that Master Taylor had probably more than one motivation to confiscate his notes. Would she even return them to him at all?
Then he shook his head. “None of those measures prevents the adventurers from running across the [Chants] out in the world. If there are as many copies as you are worried about, then it will be impossible for them to avoid it, eventually.”
Katherine nodded, but her eyes remained firm. “Yet most of those copies of [Chants] are generally written in obscure or forgotten tongues, or tucked away in books that they wouldn’t notice. The risk of that problem is far less than if we were encouraging the members of our Guild to search out such things to augment their abilities.”
“Of course, it also leaves them completely defenseless for when they do run into it.” Clay studied her for a moment. “You are also leaving them weaker against the threats we know they’ll be facing, to say nothing of the rest of the people who might be able to use the lower level [Chants] to make their lives better.”
She looked back at him, inscrutable. “That is the price of safety, Sir Clay. Do you understand?”
“Yes.” He very carefully did not say he agreed, because he didn’t. Without those [Chants] he would have been dead a hundred times over. His friends back in Pellsglade were already using those same [Chants] to make their lives easier, and he had no doubt that Olivia was going to put them to use the instant she could. How many other adventurers had died because they had been denied the tools they needed to succeed? How many more innocents had died after their defenders had fallen? It seemed like an awful lot of bodies to lay down for ‘safety’.
Still, he wasn’t about to fight it out here, at the Academy where the Guild ruled. Once he was free of this place, Clay could do what he wanted to protect people—and if it upset the Guild, they’d probably have to admit he was right as soon as he’d finished destroying every last Lair and Dungeon in the world.
Katherine watched him a moment longer, as if she was seeing the thoughts running through his mind. Then she sighed and shook her head. “For now, you need only worry about how you use your current abilities. [Chants] can be a risk for an adventurer to use—in the wrong circumstances, they can put you at severe risk—but if you are well prepared, you should do well. First, we’ll go over the way your reversal of the Orison of Soul might create a backlash that…”
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By the time Clay finally staggered out of that lesson, he felt like his very soul had been rubbed hard against a washboard. Katherine was a severe, exacting teacher, and he got the impression that she would have stripped the knowledge of [Chants] from his mind if she could. Failing that, she was going to make sure that he knew enough about them and how they could go wrong that any mistakes would be his and his alone. It was possible that she just wanted to make him too worried to use one again, but that ship had already sailed.
As it was, his ears were still wringing with phrases like soul extinguishment and intellect fracture, along with half a dozen descriptions of exactly how crippling those consequences would be for him and anyone around him. She had also demonstrated, as gently as possible, what some of those things had meant.
The moment that Syr Katherine had broken through his Shroud had been… memorable to say the least. It had felt like she’d smashed her way through his skull and ribcage with a single blow. He was surprised that the painful scream had not brought any onlookers, but she hadn’t seemed concerned as she waited for him to pick himself back up off the floor. She hadn’t even seemed overly worried as they continued the lesson, her words taking on an additional pointed tone.
Fortunately, he hadn’t walked away without any gain from the agony.
{Will increased by 1!}
It brought him nearly to his maximum for the [Stat], which was soon going to be true for most of his other [Stats] as well. It wasn’t a major boost, compared to what he would have gotten fighting a Lair, but it was better than nothing. He kept telling himself that as he staggered down the hallway, making his way to the kitchens.
He only managed to get a little lost in the maze, but he found his way there, eventually.
The place was mostly deserted again; apparently, his lesson had gone a bit longer than he’d expected. Still, the food was there—bread, cheese, even some slices of ham. He grabbed as much as he could stomach and forced it down. It took some effort to ignore the way his stomach roiled at the memory of the Orison scraping away at his soul.
All he had to do now was get through one more lesson. Just a few hours reading books with Master Taylor.
He paused, mid-chew, and slowly put his head down on the table. It was a while before he finished his food and set off for Taylor’s office, but he did do it. He wanted his notes back.
Clay paused in his unfortunate wanderings through the hallways, carrying his armful of parchment. He knew the room was around here somewhere, but he couldn’t remember which of the branching intersections had been the right one to turn left. It was this one, or the next. Or maybe it had been the turn two hallways before…
“Ahem?”
The tentative noise made him blink for a second. He turned and spotted the shy adventurer who had been sitting with Jack the first time he’d gone to the dining room. The man was wearing the same robe, plain brown except for the occasional streak of red or black. It gave him a bit of an exotic look, but the last thing Clay suspected he’d want was to stand out. It was odd, now that he thought about it.
“Are you lost?”
He snapped back to the present again. “Ah, maybe. Do you know where Master Taylor’s room is?”
The adventurer nodded. “Yeah. I’m on my way there too.” He peered at Clay. “Are you okay? It looks like you’ve had a hard day.”
Clay smiled despite himself. “Yeah, you could say that.” He followed the man as he led the way through the hallways. It had been the last intersection. “I think we met the other day. My name is Clay Evergreen.”
“From Pellsglade, yeah.” The other man nodded. “My name is Lawrence Fullshod. Are you on the way to Remedial Studies too?”
“Unfortunately.” Clay sighed. His mind seemed like it was just barely starting to clear, but he didn’t know how well things would be going over the next two hours. “You’re stuck there along with me, huh?”
Lawrence gave him a reassuring smile. “Not just me, actually. Xavien and Natalie are going to be there too.”
“Oh. Good.” The prospect of not having to face Taylor alone made the afternoon look much, much brighter. Then he frowned. “Why are all of you still dealing with this? Haven’t you already learned just about everything you could from her?”
The other man’s smile turned a little uncertain. “Not… exactly. There’s always more to learn, I’d say.”
“If you say so. Will Jack and Anne be there too?”
Lawrence paused and then shook his head. “No. I think they’re working with the Armsman today.”
Clay simply nodded his head and groaned inwardly as they reached the door. Master Taylor was already waiting for them, looking like a wolf about to jump on a herd of vulnerable deer. It was going to be a long afternoon.
By the time Clay managed to get back to his room after dinner, his head was spinning.
Master Taylor had been merciless about drilling each of them on their reading assignments. She’d pronounced Clay’s notes as ‘passable’—though she’d made pointed remarks about both his organization and handwriting—and had immediately informed him he had the next chapter to read from each book.
Lawrence, Natalie, and Xavien had all had their own reading assignments as well, each from a series of other books. Xavien had been assigned a batch of religious texts, while Lawrence had been assigned some vague historical tomes. Natalie had given her report on some kind of herbology text with a sour look on her face. She’d tried to talk to Clay after the lesson was over, but Lawrence had intercepted her and let Clay stagger off on his own. He’d felt a disturbing amount of gratitude to the robed adventurer for that, even as he dropped by the kitchens to grab a hurried dinner before he lurched back to his room.
Once there, he’d very nearly collapsed. The level of fatigue he was suffering from reminded him of when he’d battled the frenzy of spiderlings back in the Tanglewood, though here in the Academy the stakes seemed so much less severe. He spent a short time just drifting, trying to recover from everything he’d had to fight through in the past day.
Eventually, though, he forced himself to get back up. The books wouldn’t read themselves, and he wanted to practice some things that Orn and Katherine had taught him. Orn’s advice on stances was somewhat clearer than Katherine’s vague hints about some of his [Chants], a fact that immediately endeared the Armsman to Clay. What was the point of hiding things behind hints and riddles?
Feeling somewhat more settled, Clay sat on his bed and pulled open the Annals. He focused, and began to wade through the text, all the while searching for some reason behind it all.
The next few days passed in a blur.
Each day began with a quick breakfast and then proceeded with Orn’s rough tutelage. After getting himself halfway pounded into the courtyard floor, he visited Syr Katherine’s room to have his soul scraped raw and the flaws in his use of the [Chants] critiqued. Then a fast lunch, followed by Master Taylor’s droning lecture. In the slim gap between Taylor’s torture and dinner, he sometimes managed to have enough time to rest a little. After supper, it was more practice in private, along with readings and work on his [Chants].
At first, he almost doubted his ability to keep up with the pace, especially with the grueling expectations of his instructors. They seemed determined to push his limits, to the point where he almost thought they were trying to convince him to leave the Academy instead of causing trouble. Stubbornness kept him in place, however, and gradually, as the days wore on, things grew easier.
It was not, of course, only because his [Stats] reached the maximum for his level, though that could have been a part of it. Reaching twenty-three in all six [Stats] should have been something of a celebration, but the teachers appeared to have some other goal in mind. Eventually, he had asked Orn about it, partway through one of their duels. The gruff Armsman had deflected the question just as easily as he had Clay’s attempts to stab him with a practice spear, so Clay had turned to Katherine. She had been just as determined not to answer.
So, in saddened desperation, he’d asked Taylor.
“Ah. Interesting. I was wondering when you would finally ask.”
Clay tried not to notice the smug smile on the woman’s face. He’d come early to the lecture this time, his notes already prepared and his lunch cut short. It had been a gamble that she would actually respond instead of simply ignoring his curiosity, but apparently Taylor was in the mood to indulge him. Either that, or she wanted to show off.
He knew which of those two options he would have wagered on.
“You see, young hero, the Academy has had a long history of learning about the development of adventurers. How they grow, what leads to their success, and what efforts can be made to help them achieve the kind of stature that allows them to perform their duties.” Taylor’s smile grew wider, as if she could smell Clay’s frustration simmering beneath the surface. “Do you disagree?”
Clay wanted to say something about their refusal to teach [Chants], but he restrained himself. “No, Syr.”
“Oh? A shame.” She shrugged and stood from her chair. He watched as she paced over to a nearby stack of books, one that looked rather haphazardly stacked on a windowsill. “You are aware of [Achievements], correct? I believe at one point you had mentioned gaining a few.”
He blinked. “Yeah. I have three. [Spiderbane], [Corpsebane], and [Paragon].”
Taylor laughed, a shrill bark of noise that Clay had never heard before. “Ah, that last one is an incredible variation, let me assure you—but before we speak of it, how are [Achievements] gained?”
Clay frowned. He hadn’t actually thought much about it before. “Well, some of them you can get by killing large numbers of monsters. That’s how I got the first two.”
“Yes, yes.” She waved away his answer, her expression mildly annoyed. “Those are rather obvious. And [Paragon]?”
His frown grew deeper as he thought back to the Council. “The Council mentioned something about me having [Stats] all above twenty.”
“Correct! [Paragon] has rather specific conditions that are often hard for most adventurers to—well—achieve.” Taylor selected a small book from the middle of the pile. She pulled it free in one sharp movement, somehow not toppling the volumes above it. “Now, what does the existence of [Paragon] suggest?”
Clay opened his mouth, and then hesitated. The answer came to him slowly. “That some [Achievements] can be gained based on how you develop your [Stats].”
“Not just [Stats], but you are correct. The other thing that can lead to new [Achievements] are an adventurer’s collection of [Feats], [Styles], [Charms], and [Sigils]. More importantly, an adventurer’s [Experiences] are also quite important. I trust you have plenty of those?”
He laughed a little in response. Compared to most [Classes], he actually had twice as many, in exchange for never receiving any of the other special abilities that adventurers enjoyed. “Yes, you could say that.”
“Have you noticed that some of them do similar things? Or have similar bonuses that apply?”
Clay paused, and she continued in a playful tone, like nails scraping against a mischievous chalkboard. “What do you think might happen if an adventurer were to gain enough similar [Experiences] at once?”
His eyebrows climbed his forehead as he thought about it. “You’re saying that combinations of [Experiences] can lead to new [Achievements]?”
Taylor nodded. “I am. And since new [Experiences] are often shaped by your training before you level…”
“The Academy tries to help adventurers develop ones that would help them gain an [Achievement].” A few puzzle pieces began to fall into place. Still, he frowned. “Is it really that beneficial to bend everything towards that goal? It seems like a lot of work.”
“Well, to be sure, there are other benefits to the work we have you do. The martial skills that Armsman Orn is instilling in you will help you to wield your weapons more effectively, and a broad knowledge of the world such as I am giving you will often be useful as you wander the land. At the same time, the [Achievements] are the goal we are attempting to steer you towards, yes.”
Clay shook his head. It seemed ridiculous, but so much about the work he’d been doing now made so much sense. As he thought about it, his friends back in Pellsglade had mentioned that many of them had shared the same [Experiences], despite having different [Classes]. Now he knew why. “Are they really that important, though? Why not focus on other skills?”
He bit back the urge to mention [Chants], but Taylor’s eyes seemed to twinkle, as if he’d actually said it. She chuckled to herself as she turned her attention to the book in her hands. “I suppose you could make that argument—but would it be justified? From the accounts I’ve read, [Spiderbane] and [Paragon] are likely the only reason that you managed to survive much of what happened in the Tanglewood. If we know about similar power, why wouldn’t we attempt to shape our students towards it?”
Much as he hated what it meant, Clay was forced to accept the sense behind her logic. Then something else occurred to him. “Wait. None of that helps me at all.”
Taylor paused. She looked up in surprise, as if taken aback for the first time since he’d met her. “What do you mean? I thought you of all people would appreciate—”
He shook his head. “I can see the value in the [Achievements], but that’s not what I mean.” When she gestured for him to continue, he tried to find the best way to phrase what he’d realized. “A lot of the Academy’s training is meant for people to gain the right [Experiences] and [Achievements], sure, but it’s also meant to help them gain [Stats] and level up, right?”
She nodded, frowning. “Of course. Helping initiates and cadets gain their first few levels before they are sent against the monsters can guarantee that they survive much longer than they otherwise would.”
“But what happens when someone can’t level up while they are here?” Clay saw her grow still, and he pressed on in a frustrated tone. “I can’t level up the same way a [Noble] or [Fighter] can. Lots of adventurers can complete quests or study rituals in order to gain Soul and increase their level, but I’m a [Commoner]. The only way I can level up is by fighting monsters—and I can’t do that here.”
“I see.” Taylor seemed to have forgotten about the book in her hands. She was staring off at her piles of books, as if she were examining the problem itself, directly. “That is… disconcerting. I’m sure that once you do leave the Academy, the training might still affect whatever [Experiences] you gain, but…”
Clay grunted. The effect of the training would likely be diluted by whatever other work he’d done in the time since he’d left. From his past levels, he’d noticed that it was often the things he’d been doing most recently that had the most effect. Did that mean he wasn’t going to gain much of anything from being here?
Taylor closed the book in her hands with a sudden, deliberate snap. It sent a small cloud of dust into the air, but she didn’t seem to notice. Instead, she turned her attention back to him, her stare challenging. “Still, the other benefits of our work will remain. Orn will make sure you know which end of your spear to hold, I will try to broaden your horizons, and Syr Katherine will attempt to make sure you don’t do anything… unwise. In the meantime, you’ll have to do what you can to learn until you are ready to head out on your own once more.”
“And when is that going to be?” Clay began to feel a little more than frustration about it now. Was the Academy some kind of trap, where he’d be locked away by the Guild’s rules? “When does the Guild allow adventurers to go out on their own?”
“Traditionally, initiates are required to stay within the Academy unless there are special circumstances. Cadets are trusted to leave as long as they are supervised by higher ranked member of the Guild, though it is common for them to remain in the Academy until they are journeymen.”
Clay nodded. “So once I am a journeyman…”
Taylor winced. “Even then, journeymen are usually monitored carefully.” When he gave her an exasperated look, the scholar rolled her eyes. “The Guild has no interest in allowing their junior members to throw themselves into suicidal missions in search of honor or glory. Most journeymen are attached to higher ranked members such as the Guild’s peers. A peer is usually trusted to go wherever they are needed, though some often stay together so that the Guild can send them where things are worst.”
He grunted. At least now he knew how deep the hole went. “So, how do I get to be a peer?”