Year: 3045 AGD
Month: New Year
First Firstday
Serenity Valley
Institute of Learning
Shawnrik awoke to a melodious buzz humming through his ears. He couldn't quite tell where it was coming from, but it seemed as if Verrian had felt it as well, because the little man was stirring in his bed across the room.
“Good morning, Verrian,” Shawnrik said with as much enthusiasm as he could muster. Verrian's only response was a grunt as he rolled into a sitting position at the edge of his bed, where he stared at his feet as if willing them to move. Shawnrik couldn't help the chuckle that escaped his lips; he had always loved mornings, but he had seen Nim, Ashur, and Victor in the morning enough times to know that not everyone felt the same. He also knew from experience that people who didn't enjoy mornings usually didn't enjoy talking during them either, especially to cheerful people. Verrian showed all of the signs of being one of those people.
Shawnrik had already pulled a set of clothes out of the trunk by the time Verrian began to become mobile. Moving about like an undead corpse, Verrian moved towards his chest at the end of the bed and pulled out a neatly folded stack of clothing. Rummaging a little more in the chest, he came back up with a bar of soap, some sort of tiny brush, and an odd tube. The Half-Elf then proceeded to plod out the door without comment. Shawnrik followed, assuming that his roommate knew where they could go to clean up.
Verrian lead them to the end of the hallway and into a large room, the likes of which Shawnrik had never seen before. One side of the room was full of sinks and a long mirror, and the other two walls were full of stalls. Verrian grabbed a towel off a rack as they entered the room, so Shawnrik followed suit. Shawnrik was just about to ask what the stalls were for, but he noticed that there was water flowing down inside one of them and realized they must be used for getting clean. Entering a stall, the first thing he noticed was a small shelf below the spot that the water had been coming out of in the other stall. Realizing that it was one of the only dry spots in the stall, he placed his clothes inside and closed the hatch of the compartment.
Shawnrik had thought that Nim's manor had possessed a very good system of indoor plumbing, having had a bathtub in each room, but this was something else entirely. There were two knobs on the wall, one labeled hot, the other cold. For the last two years, Shawnrik had been using one cold body of water after another to get clean, so he thought it might be nice to use hot water for a change. As he turned the knob labeled hot, he heard a series of barely audible whistling sounds inside the wall before the water sputtered to life and began to spray down on him in earnest.
The water felt really good at first, but it quickly reached the point where he thought that it was going to burn him. Not wanting to get scalded, he turned the knob in the opposite direction, shutting off the stream of water. He then decided that the cold water might indeed be preferable.
As always, the cold water was rather invigorating, quickly taking away any of the sleepiness that might be lingering. On the streets, he had never been entirely clean, so he hadn't ever missed it, but his time at Nim's had taught him how much better a liberal application of soap and water could make a person feel. Shawnrik decided that he could get used to being clean and wearing a freshly laundered set of clothing.
Pulling out the towel he had grabbed on his way in, Shawnrik patted himself dry before putting on his clean clothes. As he exited the stall, he noticed Verrian and several other guys standing in front of the large mirror that ran from the first sink to the last. He watched as they combed their hair and did something to their teeth that made them foam at the mouth.
Running his hand through his hair, Shawnrik realized that it was probably a good idea to try to tame his dark locks. He had left his comb back in his room, however, and he didn't think he needed to stare at himself in the mirror to comb his hair anyway—he never had before. Checking to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything, Shawnrik marched out of the room while pointedly ignoring the dangerous looking stranger that marched along with him from the other side of the mirror.
Verrian was on Shawnrik's heels as he opened the door to their room. Shawnrik was glad to note that Verrian seemed more alert and slightly less grouchy than he had been earlier. Shawnrik also noted, and not for the first time, how much lighter and more comfortable everyone's clothes seemed to be compared to his. They reminded him of the outfits that Nim had tailored for Victor and himself when they had first met him. However, he had outgrown those clothes when his body had decided to go through a major growth spurt during his imprisonment in the Blood Orc camp. The only clothes he owned now were the ones he had gotten from the seamstress in Tranquility Mist, which were made for much colder climates than the one he found himself in now.
“Verrian?”
“Yeah?” the little man replied, pulling on a pair of socks.
“Can I ask a few questions?” Shawnrik asked.
“Sure, no problem. We have a few minutes until breakfast starts.” Verrian threw his dirty clothes into a heap next to the chest at the end of his bed.
“Okay.” Shawnrik took a breath. “First, I suppose, would be, who takes showers using the hot water? It nearly burned me!”
Verrian froze, stuck reaching for his shoes, before he slowly turned his head to look at Shawnrik. “You... aren't kidding, are you?” As the confusion set in on Shawnrik's face, Verrian fell over laughing. “You're not!”
Shawnrik had never been the type of person who liked being laughed at, and he liked even less feeling like he was dumb. At that moment, he was getting a little bit of both from his roommate. Verrian looked up after a few moments of laughter and quickly began making placating gestures and letting his laughter die, seeing the danger that he was currently in.
“Oh man, I'm sorry,” Verrian said, wiping a tear from his eye. “I grew up in Serenity Valley, so I forget just how far the rest of the world is behind us in quite a few things.” Shawnrik watched as Verrian's expression became contemplative, clearly trying to figure out where to begin.
When he started speaking, he explained to Shawnrik that the hot and cold water could be turned on at the same time and adjusted so that a person could take a shower in whatever temperature they found comfortable. The only people he had heard of that used only the hot water were a few of the Trolls that lived on campus, and he didn't know if that was hearsay or not. From there, he continued on to explain the means by which the water pressure was maintained in the pipes in order to deliver water throughout the complex, which led to a lesson on what Verrian called the electric current.
Shawnrik had been so involved in what Verrian had been saying that he found himself standing in the large dark stone room he had talked to Instructor Daymarr in the day before without remembering how he and Verrian had arrived. As Shawnrik looked around the room today, however, he found the room full of tables and chairs, with barely enough room to move between them.
Joining Verrian at the end of a long line at the north end of the room, Shawnrik continued to listen as his roommate explained that this electric current powered everything from the lights in the room to a dozen other devices that Shawnrik didn't recognize the names of. They were about halfway through breakfast when an apologetic look took over Verrian's features.
“Oh, I'm sorry Shawnrik, I've been lecturing, haven't I?”
Shawnrik shrugged. “Not really. You answered my question, and most of the others that sprang up along the way in the process. I need to know these things, and it is good to get some of it out of the way as soon as possible.
Verrian grinned excitedly. “You are too nice; most people would have told me to shut up half an hour ago.”
“I would have only done that if you were telling me something I already knew or felt I didn't need to know. Even then I don't think I would have told you to shut up, though,” Shawnrik replied.
“Was there anything else you wanted to know?” Verrian asked, obviously excited that he was helping his new roommate.
“Yes, actually, I was wondering where I could get some clothing like those that you—and everyone else—seem to be wearing.” Shawnrik fingered a loose seam on his heavy shirt. “These seem to be a little out of place.”
Verrian's eyes lit up as he realized that he could answer the question. “Oh! We are going to have some time after registration; we could go down to the city on the train.” The half-elf's expression changed for a moment. “Do you have any money?”
“I have some coins and gems.” Nim and Ashur had given him two nice sized bags full of coins before they had parted ways, and Dunnagan had tossed him a bag full of gemstones.
“What kind of coins?”
“Gold and silver, mostly.”
Verrian's eyes went wide, and Shawnrik wondered what was wrong before his roommate spoke. “I guess I will have to explain the monetary system to you on our way down to registration.”
Registration went well, and Shawnrik ended up signing up for a dozen courses. He started off with Math, History, and reading and writing Giant, or Giantessen, as it was called in the course. After that, he signed up for Basic Science (Verrian's suggestion), Philosophy, and Mythology. His craft classes included Weapon Smithing, Metallurgy, and Basic Engineering. Shawnrik decided to round out his courses with several courses that were under the Physical section that sounded fun: Strength Training, Basic Offense, and a course called Martial Arts. The description for the last said that it was a whole body discipline geared towards unarmed self-defense and wholeness of body and mind.
Verrian had signed up for History, Philosophy, Mythology, Basic Engineering, Strength Training, Basic Offense, and Martial arts, stating that if Shawnrik helped him get through the physical courses he could help with everything else, an idea that Shawnrik was in full agreement with. The other courses Verrian signed up for that they didn't share were Linguistics, Social Sciences, Chemistry, Game Theory, and Physics. Shawnrik had no idea what any of those were, but he hoped he would have it all figured out by the end of the first term.
They were about fifteen minutes into Verrian's lecture on money and what he called a market economy when the machine that Verrian had called a train pulled into the station in front of the Institute. The train seemed to be made of some sort of pliant material that was held in place by metal bolts. Shawnrik was too absorbed in Verrian's lecture to put too much thought into the structural integrity of the vehicle as it sped down the hill towards the city below.
Outside the window, the scenery went by in a blur, and it only took a few minutes for them to reach the city of Serenity Valley. Between explaining a buyer's market and supply and demand, Verrian noted that they would be getting off at the third stop.
Serenity Valley was unlike anyplace Shawnrik had seen, or even heard of before. Everywhere around him there was a mix of fresh, vibrant colors, and ancient stone structures. The buildings all seemed to be carved from a single piece of stone, their granite edifices speaking of both age and strength. Bright colors stood out amongst the ancient structures, making what could have been a dark and foreboding place seem attractive and welcoming instead. Signs lined the street, some expertly painted, others glowing with a light that reminded Shawnrik of some of the illusions he had seen created by the Mages back in Safeharbor. All together it was a difficult place to take in with a short glance through the train's window.
After arriving at their stop, the first thing Shawnrik noticed was that the sidewalks were perfectly straight for as far as he could see. The only places in Safeharbor that he had seen such straight sidewalks had been Nim's Manor and the Hall of the One God. The rest of the sidewalks had been relatively smooth, but they went up and down with the terrain and occasionally came to an abrupt end.
As Shawnrik watched one of the horseless carriages roll past, he asked Verrian if they were also powered by an electric current. Nodding, Verrian said that they partly were, and that they would learn many of the principles in basic engineering. Shawnrik asked if the Shapers had designed the power source, and Verrian scoffed, saying that everything in the city was run by science, not magic. The way he said it, you would almost believe that he thought Shapers were scam artists. Might as well not even believe in Dragons, at that point!
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Shawnrik was impressed with everything that these people had managed to do without the help of the Mages, though, and thought there might be something to this science thing after all. The wonders he had seen over the last few days that had been created through science had impressed him more than many of the things he had ever heard of that Mages had created in Safeharbor. At least here they seemed to improve the quality of life for everyone, instead of just those that could afford to pay a Shaper.
They walked along the streets of Serenity Valley for some time before they came upon a smaller building with a sign out front that said, “Gnorman's Family Jewels,” and in smaller letters, “Buy, Sell, and Trade. Consignments welcome.”
“This is the shop of a friend of my family. His name is Gnorman, he is a gnome, and he is a cheat!” Verrian said with a grin, “But he loves to haggle, so whatever price he quotes you tell him you want twice as much. He'll go off about highway robbery and how is he supposed to make a living, but he'll quote you a higher price. Do you know how to haggle, or should I do it?”
Shawnrik had been grinning from ear to ear at the first mention of the crooked little gnome. No one made it very long on the streets of Safeharbor without being able to haggle with the merchants that frequented the Docks District. He had learned at an early age that you could stretch your money a lot further if you were able to convince the merchant to give you a more suitable price.
“No, this is one thing that I have seen the pros at work doing.” It was true, too. He didn't think that his tongue was a match for that of Nim or Victor, but he thought he would do well enough.
They opened the door to the little shop and a little bell on the door tinkled, welcoming them to the store and alerting the shop owner to their presence.
∞∞∞
Verrian was excited for the first time for as long as he could remember. He hadn't met many people that he could call a friend, and he knew even fewer people that were willing to stick around and listen to him talk for an hour about something that he found interesting. For the first time in his life, he thought that he might have found someone that could actually be his friend, instead of someone who just hung around him because of who his father was. He knew that most people found his curiosity and drive to know how everything worked annoying, and he had rarely been invited to play games or hang out with other kids his age. Part of it had also been his size, though; he had always been smaller than the other kids his age, and none of the other kids wanted to pick him for their team when they were playing something as aggressive as Dirt Ball.
In many ways, Verrian felt that Shawnrik Larston was a lot like him. It might not be visible at the first glance of the young Half-Giant, but Verrian knew from their conversations that in many ways their minds worked on the same level. Shawnrik was everything Verrian had ever wanted to be and more. They were the same age, but Shawnrik was already close to seven feet tall, and looked like someone who worked out—a lot.
Verrian thought that Shawnrik must take after his father's side, as he didn't have the blocky look that many of the Storm Giants seemed to possess. His features were well defined but possessed many more fine curves than hard angles. Seeing how often Shawnrik's hair kept getting in his way, Verrian thought that he might suggest a haircut before they went back to the Institute.
Verrian saw a stone that Shawnrik dumped out in front of Gnorman that looked almost exactly like the golden yellow color of the Half-Giant's eyes. When he asked what it was, both Gnorman and Shawnrik simultaneously replied, “Topaz.” Shawnrik's eyes were the only part of the young man that didn't scream athlete in Verrian's opinion. They held a keen intellect and a curiosity that he felt his own eyes must reveal to anyone who might bother to look.
He realized in that moment that there was an added plus to having Shawnrik as a roommate; it was much less likely that he would be picked on this year. Verrian had never taken any physical courses before because he knew how much he would get harassed by the other kids. His father was the treasurer for the Parliament, so the only thing his father cared that he learned in school was math, and lots of it.
Verrian had given in to the idea that he would be an accountant, or maybe even take his father's job, which was just a glorified accountant, but watching his friend haggle with Gnorman gave him a new hope. If a street rat from Safeharbor can become a student at the Institute in Serenity Valley, maybe I can change the direction of my life as well.
“Seven fifty,” the gnome said in response to Shawnrik's last offer, his enjoyment of the process no longer hidden as the smile took control of his features.
“Eleven seventy-five,” Shawnrik replied with a straight face, but Verrian thought his roommate was enjoying this just as much as the Jeweler was.
They were getting down to the fun part of the haggle, and Verrian thought that even his father would be proud of the fight that Shawnrik was putting up against the little Jeweler. Verrian had also noticed that Shawnrik had only dumped out a small portion of the bag that contained his gems.
“Nine seventy and that's as high as I can go before you send me into the poorhouse!” Gnorman said after about ten minutes of back and forth negotiations, the grin now a permanent feature of his face.
“Nine seventy five, and I give you four more gems to make a set of cufflinks for Verrian and myself so that we might display your grand craftsmanship and tell everyone where they are from,” Shawnrik said, waiting for the Gnome's reply. After about a minute, he began to reach for the gems as if to put them back into the bag.
“Ah lad,” Gnorman said, “you are a boy after my own heart. Not only are you getting more than a fair price, but you are having me make you something for free as well. Tell me, where did you learn the game?”
“The Docks District of Safeharbor,” Shawnrik said, finally allowing the grin he had been holding back to come forth.
Gnorman's eyes widened and he looked to Verrian for confirmation of the statement. Verrian nodded. “Well,” the Gnome said cheerfully, “if that is the way everyone haggles in Safeharbor, I am in the wrong part of the world. How do you like Serenity Valley so far? I assume you are a student at the Institute with Verrian here?”
“It is amazing here, sir,” Shawnrik said, his voice holding no small amount of awe. “In some ways it is like home, but in so many other ways it is completely different.”
Verrian saw where Shawnrik's eyes had fallen as he finished his statement and realized that his new friend had probably never seen a digital clock before.
“Yes, every city is a little different, I suppose, but I think you will like it here,” Gnorman said. Verrian didn't think the Gnome quite understood just how different the cities were, but before he could say anything the Gnome decided to play friend of the family. “It is good to see Verrian with a friend, too. Maybe he won't get picked on as much this year.”
Verrian watched as Shawnrik's gaze shifted from the clock to the shopkeeper, and finally to him. Silently cussing out the Gnome, Verrian held back a sigh.
“People pick on you?” the large young man said, his voice like an approaching storm cloud. “Why?”
“It's nothing bad...” Verrian began, but Gnorman cut him off.
“Nothing bad!” Gnorman made a spitting motion. “Phaw! Nothing bad my foot! I have had conversations with your father, young man, and with several of the Instructors at the Institute. If you call getting knocked around, your head dumped in a toilet, and being hung up on things nothing bad, then you are as mad as a harpy.”
“That's not right,” Shawnrik said. “Didn't you fight back?”
“What can I do?” Verrian's voice came out somewhere between a cry and a shout. “Not only am I a third their size, but it is usually a group of them doing it.”
“I don't know, Verrian, but we'll figure something out. You just tell me if anything like that happens again this year. You are my roommate now, and we have to watch out for each other.”
Verrian had looked down at his feet, ashamed of his outburst, so he was surprised to find the large hand on his shoulder. When he looked up he saw Shawnrik looking down at him, topaz eyes glinting in concern. He couldn't tell for certain through the moisture in his own eyes, but he thought that Shawnrik might be crying, but when the young man spoke his voice was strong.
“Because if we don't, who will?”
“Oh!” Gnorman cried. “That's friendship alright, reminds me of when I went to the Institute with your father, Verrian.” The Gnome wiped the corner of his eyes with a handkerchief before starting to count out the money that they had agreed on. Gnorman continued to regale the two with stories about his time at the Institute.
Shawnrik dumped the rest of his bag of gems onto a pillow that Gnorman had placed on the counter for just such a purpose, and the greedy expression that crossed Gnorman's face as his eyes fell upon the pile of gems was enough to lift Verrian's spirits once more. It took Shawnrik a few minutes, but he found four gemstones that were near enough alike to suit his purpose. Verrian nearly choked when he saw what his roommate had chosen for them. He didn't know a whole lot about gems himself, but having grown up around wealth, he knew enough to recognize a diamond when he saw one. Not only were these some of the largest that he had ever seen, but they were a beautiful purple hue.
“You have some eye, kid,” Gnorman said. “I can't put stones like this into something as mundane as cufflinks, though—that would be criminal. Something with those in them needs to be visible!” A grin spread across the Gnome's face after a moment's consideration. “Have you ever thought about getting your ear pierced?”
Verrian looked at the Gnome incredulously, finding the idea ludicrous, but he noticed Shawnrik nodding.
“Sure I have. Half of the people I knew growing up in the Docks District wore them.”
“My father would kill me!” Verrian said, his voice strangled.
“I know! Isn't it great?!” the little Jeweler said, a mischievous glint in his eye. “I'll tell you what I'll do; I'll make an earring for each of you, that way you can look like pirates!” The gnome's grin began to fade as he fell deep into thought. “Maybe an earring and a ring, either way it's sure to be impressive.”
“You don't have to do all that,” Shawnrik said, placing the remaining gems back into his pouch.
“Nonsense, you have me going now, boy, bad luck to not do things you know you should do. I'll have them ready before the Winter Festival, so you will have them for the dance. Just be sure to tell people where they came from!”
Verrian noticed that Shawnrik had left several gemstones on the pillow as they left, and when he mentioned getting a haircut Shawnrik said it sounded like a good idea. It didn't take them long to find a place that was open. They were in and out quickly, and as they left, both boys' hair now closely cropped, Verrian noticed that Shawnrik's hair had a blue hue to it that couldn't be seen when it was longer.
The next stop was a clothing store, where Shawnrik bought several sets of new clothes and two pairs of shoes. They realized that it was well past lunch time as they began to make their way back towards the train, so they stopped for a quick bite to eat. As they boarded the train back to the Institute, Verrian had one thought.
This could be a very good year.
∞∞∞
Shawnrik was glad when he finally got all of his bags into the room and packed into his chest. It was a nice change from living day to day, wondering what he would have to do tomorrow to survive, and he found that he rather liked it. He knew that he didn’t want to get too used to it, but he would enjoy it while it lasted.
On his bed was a finalized schedule, and he was pleased to see that he had been approved for every course for which he had applied. The next thing that he noticed was that it was arranged in eight-day increments, which neatly divided the month into four segments. Shawnrik thought that whoever had thought of such a thing must have had a very organized mind. In Safeharbor, they had gotten along fine without dividing the month into four parts, but he also saw the benefits of it while working on a rotating schedule like the one that he held in his hand. The eight days were aptly labeled ‘Firstday’ through ‘Eighthday.’ This made today a Firstday, and the Second Firstday would come on the ninth day of the month. As he thought more on it, he decided that he liked the idea more and more.
“Verrian?” His roommate grunted acknowledgment of his question, so he continued. “What do they call the four eight-day divisions of the month?”
Of course, as happened every time Shawnrik asked a question that completely surprised Verrian, the Half-Elf’s eyes lit up in astonishment, but he quickly answered the question. “They call it a week, Shawnrik. You see each…”
“Oh, I figured it out, I just wanted to know what it was called.” Shawnrik finished with a cheerful, “Thank you.”
“It never occurred to me that you might not have weeks on a calendar in Safeharbor,” Verrian said while his mind furiously went to work.
“Oh, someone might have them, but that is probably just the Academies. Down in the streets we were fine saying something needed done on the twenty first of the month without calling it the Third Fifthday. It does seem a handy thing for rotating schedules like these, though,” Shawnrik said as he held up his schedule. “Instead of asking what class someone has on the fourteenth and having them need to look it up, I could ask what class they go to on a Sixthday, and since the fourteenth is the second Sixthday of the month, they would only have to remember their eight-day schedule to know where they would be on any day of the month.” Shawnrik realized that he had been rambling, but Verrian had nodded along with every word of his statement.
“Very good, Shawnrik. Now that you mention it, there wouldn’t be much need to separate the month into weeks if you didn’t have a schedule like this. I guess I just always took it for granted, like running water, or even the electric current. Safeharbor must be quite an unstructured place.”
“Not really,” Shawnrik replied. “I think it is because only schools and maybe some businesses need to be run on such a strict and precise schedule. Most of the time, shopkeepers would open around sunrise when people started moving about the city, and close in the evening when everyone started heading home. There is no real need for precision in a place like that. Kind of like a clock. Only the rich ever had them in Safeharbor, and that was only because they like order and precision in their world of power and money. It was just another thing to set them apart from the common people, who had no problem telling their friends to show up in the evening, and have people wander in at random throughout the evening hours.”
“I think I would like a place like that. My entire life has been structured. Being in certain places at certain times, and never having a few days when I didn't need to know what hour it was so that I wouldn’t be late for one thing or another. Yes, I think I would rather enjoy a place like Safeharbor.” Verrian sat on his bed, looking at the wall with a far-off expression.
“It isn’t as great of a place as it sounds, but I do see what you are talking about. Maybe that is simply one of the ways things have to be in a city ruled by such a precise thing as science.” Shawnrik hadn’t thought his friend’s eyes could get wider than they had been when he asked what a week was, but yet again he was proven wrong.
“I think you just hit that one right on the head! My goodness, I am glad that we are in Philosophy together,” Verrian started. “You did get all of your classes that you signed up for, right?”
Shawnrik nodded, handing Verrian his schedule.