The Aemonsford Central Academy functioned rather holistically, Avakian learned. Students could commit to any number of modules they qualified for, and turn up to any number of classes they wanted. The number of modules offered were immense, everything could be studied; from literature and sport, to erebology and mathematics.
"Generally I only turn up to 'Languages of the Many Folds' and the martial arts classes, and that's only 'cause I promised to teach swordfighting to some of the younger ones." Chiros confessed when Avakian had asked what courses he was taking. "I mostly gave up on academia when I decided to become a pioneer."
Avakian himself was in the middle of filling out the module choice form for the year, it turned out as Kamatie's student he automatically had dispensation to choose any modules he wanted. The temptation to simply fill his timetable with geometry and glyphcrafting was immense, but he resisted, realising how woefully underprepared he was to survive in the outer world. Instead he picked the 'Pioneering Skills' bundle, as well as several other smaller modules. His current schedule read as follows:
NAME: Avakian Gray
DOB: 12/08/7022 SE
FIRSTDAY: 'Novice Glyphcrafting'
SECONDDAY:'Wilderness Survival Skills'
THIRDDAY:'Elementary Erebology'
FOURTHDAY:'Introduction to Cantrips'
FIFTHDAY:'Combined Firearms Safety'
SIXTHDAY:'Beginner Glyphcrafting'
SEVENTHDAY:'Novice Self-Defense'
EIGHTHDAY:'Beginner Weapons Combat'
Chiros had insisted that he take 'Beginner Weapons Combat' as it was the one that he taught. His timetable was rather more heavy on combat than Avakian would have liked, but he still recognised its necessity. The day today was Seventhday, meaning that he would have his first class tomorrow.
He ended the day once more looking up at an unfamiliar ceiling. He wondered if he would ever find a place where he could live without troubles, it certainly didn't seem so. Aemonsford was almost perfect for him; save for the fact that the lack of Void poisoned his very existence.
He sighed, and fell asleep.
---
He woke up to the distant thumps of Chiros working out, he wondered how he managed to find the time.
"Maybe he doesn't sleep?" Thought Avakian.
He meandered over to the kitchenette to eat, filling himself on a bowl of sweet grains topped with a nut-based milk substitute. As he gorged himself Chiros walked in shirtless, looking far too energetic for the amount of exercise he had clearly done.
"Good morning, Avakian." He said cheerfully, grabbing a large canister of green smoothie from the fridge.
"Morning." Avakian nodded. "Mind if I tag along for the first class? I still haven't got my bearings around this place."
"Sure, it starts in about 40 minutes. Also there's probably a map packed in with the stuff Kamatie gave you, or you can pick one up pretty much anywhere on campus."
He washed himself in the surprisingly modern showering facilities connected to the dojo before getting dressed. The wardrobe in his room was packed with clothes, however he still struggled to find something that fit him, owing to his small build and stature. In the end he settled for baggy set of tracksuit bottoms, a pair of plimsolls, and an athletics top sporting a stylized ACA logo.
Walking out he found Chiros dressed in largely the same attire, except for the fact that his clothes actually fit. Avakian once again cursed his height as the mismatched duo walked to the athletics hall.
Along the way he noticed the number of people who acknowledged or reacted to Chiros' presence. It appeared he was somewhat well known on campus as almost everyone they saw along the way greeted him personally.
They arrived at the hall in good time, and made their way over to their class. Students were busy practising their techniques with the same mock-weapons Avakian had used the day prior.
Walking over he realised that 'practising' was a bit of a misnomer; most of the boys in the room were flailing swords around pretending they were phalluses, whilst the girls were either busy chatting or not-so-subtly ogling Chiros.
Avakian immediately noticed three exceptions to the group; two armoured-up fencers exchanging heated blows, and an androgynous young woman swinging a longsword in a fashion vaguely reminiscent of Chiros' moves.
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Upon noticing them one of the two fencers dispensed of his armour and came over to greet them. Underneath the helmet stood a rough-looking man of around 40, with a significant portion of his body covered in tattoos.
"Ayop Kid, glad to have you with us. Female attendance dropped nearly 50% last time you pulled a no-show." He joked, clapping Chiros over the shoulder. "Who's this, 'nother wunderkind?"
"Yes, this is Avakian, my new housemate and peer. He's here today to learn the basics."
"Good! Well at the very least you can't be worse than this pack of lazy twats." He spat at the class, although Avakian could detect hints of geniality underneath his harsh words. "Between them they're about as dangerous as a wet paper bag."
"Even me sir?" The other fencer asked, pulling his helmet off to reveal a younger man with cropped blonde hair and a devilish grin.
"Especially you, Starkie, if you're losing that badly to a man my age it's time to find a new hobby."
---
The banter died down and the class began; Chiros leading a quick jog around the room followed by callisthenics and stretching. Avakian found some of the exercises much easier than others, his flexibility and coordination were higher than most of the other students, but he struggled with the simple strength exercises.
After the warm-up was sword forms. The students interspaced themselves randomly throughout the hall and copied the instructor's movements with varying degrees of passion, Chiros occasionally correcting an awry move with a tap of his mock-sword.
Avakian was particularly fond of memorising the forms, the sweeping movements and punctuating stabs reminding him vividly of the glyphs he had been drawing during his Sabat game yesterday. He could find himself lost in the movements as the forms were gradually engraved upon his body and mind.
"Break! Grab a drink, take fifteen, then partner up for sparring." The foul-mouthed instructor, Davis, barked.
Avakian collapsed in a sweaty and dishevelled heap onto the floor, accepting a drink from an inexplicably tidy Chiros.
"How are'ya finding it? I could almost mistake you for a proper swordsman by the end there, I'm impressed." He laughed.
"Very satisfying." He panted in between breaths. "Something tells me I won't be enjoying the next part so much though."
"The sparring? You'll be fine. I'm guessing you're worried 'cause you sparred with Kamatie yesterday?" He guessed.
"Precisely. She pretty much put the fear of God into me, or more accurately the fear of Kamatie." Avakian could still feel the aftershocks of their battle in his mind, how ineffable the outcome seemed, as though there existed no possible chance of victory.
"Don't worry too much, my master believes in a very 'practical' form of learning. It won't be anything like that." Chiros promised.
---
As he had been promised the 'sparring' was nothing like what he had suffered with Kamatie.
His very first opponent was a boy in his mid-teenage years, who insisted on trying to fight 'just like in the vodcasts', and was spinning around while pointing his sword out and making sound-effects.
Avakian simply blocked the blows with his jian gripped vertically, while rapping him across the buttocks every time he spun around. Eventually the boy grew tired of being slapped around and walked off to find a new opponent.
His next foe was part of the Chiros-ogling squad, and would pause every other minute to try and attract his attention, growing despondent when he barely acknowledged her presence. She too gave up rather quickly as her lackadaisical jabs were deflected effortlessly by Avakian.
Next in line was the blonde, devil-faced man who had been sparring with Davis.
"Starkie. A pleasure." He grinned, sharp teeth bared in challenge.
"Avakian. Likewise." Avakian replied, sizing up his first real adversary for the day.
Starkie charged forward, utilising an aggressive style of swordsmanship that focused on overwhelming his opponent's guard with increasingly fast slashes. Avakian held on admirably at first, but gradually his more conservative jian began to lag, while Starkie's longsword simply got faster.
Their battle reached its zenith, and Avakian was forced backwards in an attempt to lessen the longsword's impact. Starkie closed in with a clinch, and used his superior strength and bulk to simply force Avakian to the ground in a shoulder tackle.
Avakian looked up to find the familiar Cheshire-faced man grinning down upon him with an outstretched hand.
"Nice fight, midgit!" He pulled Avakian to his feet. "Me and Jun might actually have some competition this year."
He winked and stalked away, presumably to find some other poor soul to torment.
Avakian was left panting and heaving, black spots encroaching on his peripheries from the exertion. He contemplated his last battle; Starkie had defeated him handily, but he did not think that the devil-faced man was an insurmountable hurdle. While the man held far more explosive strength and speed than Avakian, his technique was transparent and straightforward.
After a brief break and a drink his final opponent for the session approached; the androgynous girl he had spotted practising before. Contrary to his previous opponents, his current one was almost exactly his height, falling short of 5 feet tall.
"Would you like to spar?" She asked awkwardly. "My name's Junice by the way, call me Jun."
"Certainly. I am Avakian, call me as you will." He bowed slightly.
"Right... Ready?"
He nodded again and Jun stepped towards him in a fencer's stance, sword low and aimed at his centre of mass. Avakian sent a few probing swings with his jian which Jun blocked handily.
They began to dance, their music a staccato rhythm of swords.
Avakian found this battle a much more interesting one than the last, yet no less difficult. Jun was not nearly as fast or strong as Starkie, and did not have the reflexes of Avakian, yet in terms of pure technique she was superior to either of them.
Every strike he threw was blocked. Jabs were diverted and swings subverted, often by the smallest of margins. Jun had a notably defensive style, and did not often throw strikes of her own initiative, preferring blocks and counter-swings.
Their bout did not come to a dramatic conclusion as his fight with Starkie had, Avakian's grip simply completely failed and he was forced to concede. Examining his arm afterwards had yielded a mass of tiny bruises wherever Jun's counterstrikes had landed.
"Good work. Your reflexes are crazy fast, but you need to work on strength more. I can show you a few types of push-ups that might help if you want." The delicate-looking swordswoman offered.
"If you would be so kind." He assented.