The food on Jack’s tongue tasted bland as he mechanically chewed. The simple enjoyment of eating had taken a back seat to the fugue that now took up all his attention. He simply ignored all attempts the others made to communicate as he attempted to come to terms with...everything. When in his Soulscape there was an emotional detachment that allowed him to easily accept new ideas and concepts. It had only been when he came face to face with his new duties that it finally struck home. He was brought here to protect the helpless and enforce justice. What was justice? Should he follow Imperial law, American law, or should ignore the words of others and make his own?

Tap.

The dark cyclone that was Jack's mind stilled as he turned to see who had just tapped him on the shoulder. Casper sat calmly next to him and matched his scrutiny with a steady gaze.

“What is it that ails you?” He asked softly.

“It’s...complicated. I feel like I am trying to navigate a boat with neither a compass to direct nor a destination to aim for. That last encounter really showed that I have just allowed others to sweep me along according to their interests and ideals.”

“That is very thoughtful of you. Just being willing to admit to an imperfection will only benefit you as you work to overcome your current challenges. Just know that if you need me, I will be there to lend a hand. Oh, do not worry yourself over Curtis much, I saw him after your altercation and he appeared to be more troubled than livid. You shook up his entire worldview.”

That news came as a shock. He had expected that he would have another run-in with Curtis before all was said and done. Maybe he wouldn’t have to? Jack paused to get his next words just right. “Thank you, Casper. No longer will I be passive. No longer will I let another decide what I can or cannot do. From now on, I will take the reins, even if it means I have to make it up as I go along.” With that, he got up and handed his bento box to Lillian with a grateful smile.

…

“So where are we going?” Jack asked Virtus as the guard led him deep into the university campus.

“Your next elective is special. Fieldcraft is an advanced class that is usually taken by those who intend to become adventurers or join the Legion. I requested for you to be placed into this class as early as possible due to your circumstances.”

“Why, what is fieldcraft.?”

Virtus gave Jack a devilish half-smile that did not bode well. “Ahh, but that is against the rules. Everyone that has taken the course is sworn to secrecy to prevent people from making unwise preparations. You will see soon enough.”

As they headed deeper into the campus, the buildings were different. At first, Jack could not put his finger on what was changing. The building just gave off a vibe that registered somewhere deep inside him that these buildings were old, very old.

“Why does this part of the campus feel different?” Jacked asked

“This is the original campus. This is where the advanced courses and the professor's personal quarters are. When the Emperor moved thal, the university, which at the time was an independent compound, was integrated into the greater whole.” Virtus explained.

“University?” Jack asked.

“Yes. Back then, only journeymen or higher courses were offered. Novice training was done on an individual basis through apprenticeships or personal tutoring. It was a highly inefficient system, so the campus was expanded a hundred years ago to make room for the academy branch.”

After another minute of walking, Virtus pointed out a building that was built against the outer wall separating the central district from the southern district. It was a large semicircular stadium that looked like the coliseum would if it was built by a magical mad scientist. Arcane instruments that Jack could not begin to understand stuck out at random intervals and part of it looked like it was being supported by kinds of fluffy clouds one sees in a Renaissance painting.

“You want me to go in there?” Jack asked incredulously.

“Of course. This is the best place for you to learn if you wish to take control of your own destiny. Reading runes in a book is no substitute for practical experience.”

Jack had never been to a stadium, but he could have sworn that the main entrance usually led to a staircase that allowed the entrant to quickly find and get to their seats. Field access was only available from special side entrances that were behind locked gates. at least that was how it was in the movies. The Old Man never took Jack with him whenever he went to a ball game. This was the opposite, they went through a straight torchlit hallway where the only thing of note was the solid metal doors set at regular intervals. Scrapes, growls, and moans echoed from behind them. Jack had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that Virtus had just volunteered him for some kind of gladiator training.

The hall ended in an empty amphitheater filled with a dozen people. Sand crunched under Jack’s shoes as he joined the small group of people. They were all around the same age as Virtus and moved in a similar fashion. These men were dangerous.

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They all simultaneously beat their right hands against their hearts once and bowed slightly. “Primus Pilus!” they chanted in sync.

Virtus sighed and waved an arm at the emblem on his left shoulder. “I am legion no more brothers. I am an imperial guardian now. This is my charge, Jack Hearth the Adjudicator. Please take care of him as he is new to our world and is adjusting.”

One of the men chuckled. “So you brought him here. This is no place for a cub learning to walk.”

“I WILL BE THE JUDGE OF THAT!” The roar came from behind the group so Jack couldn’t see until they turned and stood at attention on a line of white sand. Jack decided to stand on the line after a silent prompt from Virtus. A grizzled man stood alone in the center of the arena and lowered at them in disapproval.

“I see you all still remember the rules at least, but that was no excuse for not paying attention to your surroundings. What is the most important skill a man can learn?”

“Proprioception!” Jack’s fellows chanted as one, even Virtus.

“Yes, proprioception, or awareness of your surroundings for the new kid over there.” He gestured towards Jack. “Were you aware?”

“No sir!”

“Good, never be afraid to admit to your mistakes. Go run four laps around the campus as penance!”

As Jack turned to join in the column of accelerating classmates, a hand landed on his shoulder. “Where are you heading off to? That punishment was not for you.” The grizzled man said.

Jack’s eyes traced the hand back and up to the man looming several centimeters over him. He wore intricate black leather studded with metal studs that flashed brilliantly in the sunlight. Every square inch of him that was not covered was riddled with scars, from his exposed ankles to his bald head.

“My name is professor Graves. Welcome to beginners Fieldcraft. As the only freshman taking this course and your special circumstances, you will be taking a very specialized course. What name do you go by?”

Jack was confused. This man knew who he was but didn’t know his name? “My name is Jack Hearth.” He answered carefully.

“No, didn’t anybody tell you that names are important? When we ask what name do you go by, we are asking for your moniker, not your true name.”

“That is my moniker,” Jack explained with irritation. “I will never speak the name I was born with till the day I die.” That name, the same as the Old Man, was better left to rot for all he cared.

Graves made a face that could only be loosely called a grin; it was more like he was baring his teeth. “Excellent, you seem to already understand the power of names Jack. Now, it is time for you to choose a weapon. Come with me.” He led Jack off to a large double doorway set into the wall dividing the districts. He opened the doors with a mighty heave that set off a breeze that blew sand in Jack’s eyes.

He rubbed the sand out of his eyes mechanically, opening them to find a stock room full of sports supplies. And if by sports supplies, you meant rack after rack of sharp or pointed weapons and a row of wooden dummies then you would be correct.

Graves walked over and pulled one of the weapon racks out of the room, which amazed him until he saw the wheels underneath.

“Today you will choose a weapon. Now, I know you are training at the university to throw around flaming balls of death, but, ”Graves pointed back at Jack with a dramatic flair, ”spells are no protection if an enemy gets close with a real weapon! From now on you will learn the art of war and survival. You will know how to defend yourself without magic, and you will get to know the world that you have so recently arrived on. Now, choose a weapon!”

It took a few seconds for Jack to take in the sheer number of deadly implements. Back home, should he even call it that, he’d seen a gangbanger riddled with bullets by nervous cops just for pulling out a letter opener at the wrong time and place? Weapons were things that other people had, locked in safes or displayed on walls. These were placed on racks with no mind to aesthetic or safety, only size, and shape.

Jack stepped into the recessed Stock room and traced the handles with an outstretched hand. Several minutes passed like this as he mentally prepared himself for choosing to wield violence—to bring pain to another.

His hand snagged on something thick and wooden. Fingers tightened on a smooth grip and lifted. A wooden disk, as long as his forearm, rattled when it was pulled from a pile of short blades. Jack examined his find. It was a dark wooden buckler, reminiscent of mahogany and bound in metal black as coal.

“So that is where that got off to!” Graves muttered in exasperation somewhere off to the side. His eyes glowed black as he examined his students' choices. The glow soon faded and he nodded in approval. “Now, choose a weapon to go with it.”

This choice took less time as a short sword, made of the same black metal as the shield and sheathed in a leather sheath that seemed to soak up all nearby light, had fallen when he pulled out his initial prize. The two just felt right together, so he picked it up and presented his choice to the professor. “I choose this sword and shield.”

Virtus marched from an out-of-the-way corner to examine Jack’s wares. He held his hand out in the silent request and Jack handed over the blade. Virtus examined the piece, his eyes glowing the same silver as many of the nearby weapons. “This is fine work. I fail to recognize the maker mark, do you recognize it, professor?” He said

Graves pulled up to Virtus’ side so that he could peer over his shoulder, Graves was just that tall. “That is the mark of the Sorcerer. In his younger days, he made the finest of implements: from ever-flowing fountains, pickaxes that sensed ore, weapons of incredible might—he made them all. This was one of the last sets he ever made, The Night Shroud. This sword and shield are still in here, despite their value, because they have been endowed with intention. If the wielder uses them with objectives counter to their inherent nature well...let us say that my classes were smaller after that.”

Jack inspected the shield. His eyes traced the lines of the wood grain to the metal with the care of a police bomb dismantler.

Protect! Conceal!

The thought popped into the forefront of his mind along with dozens of disjointed images depicting a human figure standing between an aggressor and their prey, shield in hand and darkness the stage of battle. His head throbbed from the barrage of so many inputs all calling out for attention simultaneously. The shield fell from his numb fingers and plopped down without making so much as a whisper.

It was too much. There was no light and the images kept coming and coming. He began to pant as, for some reason, he was unable to breathe properly.

No!

A wolf circled a child that had fallen.

No more!

A bandit approached a woman asleep in her bedroll.

NO MORE!

The images fled and a spark flickered to life in the center of the lightless realm that Jack had been cast into.

I WILL STAND FOR THIS NO MORE! I AM THE FLAME THAT BANISHES THE DARKNESS! I AM THE FLAME THAT CASTS A COVER OF SHADOW AND SAFETY FOR THOSE WHO REST! BURN!

The spark spread as it sent out tongues of crimson across the darkness, consuming it. Reality poured in through the opening and nudged the last remnants aside like so much shattered glass as it took center stage. Jack was back in the arena, laying down. On his stomach lay both the sword and shield of the Night Shroud. Only he could feel them now. It was indescribable. Yet strangely, he was okay with that.

With a heave, Jack was sitting up. Virtus was sitting nearby, sharpening his sword with something that Jack couldn’t make out due to the guardsman’s armor blocking the view.

“I see that you made it through the bonding unharmed. I should not have expected any less from the Adjudicator.” Graves' voice echoed from his other side. Jack turned, startled, to see Graves’ looming over him. This confused Jack as the sun was to the large man's back and subconsciously he felt something wasn’t adding up but could not put his finger on it.

“What did you see?” Graves asked.

“Predators in the night,” Jack replied in a tone devoid of emotion.

“What are you planning to do about it?”

“My duty,” Jack replied. The words were a mixture of familiar and foreign as they rolled off of his tongue, but somehow they felt...right. His paradigm had undergone a shift that he couldn’t begin to describe, much less understand yet.

The somber man seemed to approve of that answer as he held out a hand to lift his charge. Little did Jack know that would be the last time that Graves ever did him such a kindness.