Coming to terms

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Team 21 was the last to be marked. Rohodan started his class right after. The muffled conversations picked up after a while, but the talk about carrying spare undergarments in a bagpack just couldn't compare to the marvelous magic engineering of their new toy - the sigil. The professor, for his part, was content with the few attentive faces in the audience.

"All of you are Divers now. We are the armor that protects the capital, a force against the unpredictable Wilds, and a promise of a better future to all our citizens. Here, in the heart of the Kingdom, Damscith had once been the capital of a glorious Empire. Hermits estimated the mana levels to be a thousand times what we can hope to ever use. And so there exist Wilds that we ..."

Tommy nodded along. Asva was doing the same, and Tommy wondered how much she could really understand. Aldy had been writing in his notebook for a while but he didn't seem to pay any attention to the lecture content, or to anyone else around him. Tommy tuned back into Rohodan's steady voice.

"Survival is the foremost requirement at this Academy. You'll eventually need to face the Wilds. By necessity, Tutorials are grueling and deadly. My job is to prepare you to live through those excursions, and beyond. "

The class was pretty basic. It boiled down to - some pep talk, think about everything you use daily at home, more pep talk, pack whatever you can afford to when you are camping outdoors, and the course curriculum at the end. No books were assigned. Tommy was familiar with the logistics of being on the road for long stretches - a necessity for any merchant. Still, rest of the course felt promising - surviving in different environments, practicing knots, starting fires, hunting and fishing. Normal everyday stuff. If you were a hunter that is. And they would be. Big bad monster hunters.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

There wasn't anything Tommy hadn't already known, or discovered in the guidebook. Every Miles word their stones had to learn survival the hard way - living on the go, following a long train of trading caravans. His Grandpa was quite keen on practical experiences.

Everyone stayed back for Basic Mana Techniques lecture. The gym was a large flat open space, complete with blue sky and sunlight. The next teacher had yet to arrive. The groups kept sitting down on the grass - real grass, growing out of real ground with real soil, well-cut fresh smelling green grass, bugs and all. Some pillows and blankets had appeared in neat rows in some distance as some point. The ubiquity and the absolute frivolity of the magical tricks astounded Tommy. 'Whoever thought of green colored grass?'

The conversations had gradually picked up. Asva was reciting a foreign sea shanty to a bald guy who held quills in both hands, furiously scribbling. Tommy let himself drift, hearing bits of speculations and discussions about, well, everything else under the watchful eye - team rankings, other classes, famous teachers and students, eggball, lunch, spellcraft, love affairs, court gossip.

"What think, good Tommy?"

"This feels like a dream."

"Oh?"

"Well, I am a merchant. I was. Now, I am here, waiting to get started on magic. Yet, it's all so.. normal? Is it like that for you too?"

"No. Yes. Little. Asva call wind. But no sea weird. Big boat miss. Home miss."

"Indeed. We've come quite a ways, haven't we."