Academy - Monster Dormitories

Hex followed Shale and the other new students to the closest barn in the left corner of the field. They stood outside the entrance while he explained the arrangement.

"This is the first-year dormitory," he said. "You'll be divided into three floors. I'll be the primary mentor for the first floor, Howler the second, and Talara the third—for obvious reasons."

Talara ruffled her wings in response.

"Get comfortable with your floor mates, because these are the Monsters you'll be spending most of your time with, aside from species-specific classes, meals, and free time. You'll follow your floor cohort to almost all the same classes and, most importantly, they'll be your team for the Hero's Cup Tournament."

Skel nudged Hex with an elbow. "Don't get your hopes up. It's always a Humanoid team that wins the Cup."

"I didn't have high hopes anyway," he said. He made a mental note to ask later what, exactly, the Hero’s Cup Tournament was supposed to be.

Talara floated up above the group. "Inside the dorm, you'll find your name already etched into a nameplate on the end of your assigned bed. I know you're all excited, but tomorrow your classes begin, so try to get a good night's sleep. The first focus will be the initiation process and introduction to the Hero's Promenade. Then the following day will be your first real World Gate training experience!"

"Wow, they really like to make us learn on the go, huh?" Dracala said.

She had a point. It's all happening really fast. So much has already happened, yet we only just arrived yesterday. And in two days he'd officially be a Gate adventurer. How do they expect us to sleep with so much going on?

Hex yawned, despite himself, suddenly feeling groggy and exhausted. Just thinking of everything he'd been through since arriving pushed him over the edge. Most other students appeared in a similar state.

At least we won't have trouble resting up for the first day tomorrow.

"Talara, Howler, and I will be staying here with you," Shale said. "We've intentionally staggered our class and Gate schedules, so at least one of us will always be available if you need anything."

"Our rooms are separated from the general dormitory on each floor," Talara said, "so just knock if you need anything. We'll hang outside here while you all get settled in."

Howler howled into the air, then galloped away and hopped over the fence into the woods.

"Well... at least Shale and I will wait here," she corrected.

One of the students opened the door to their new home and Monsters swarmed in to find their beds.

Hex pulled his pack higher on his shoulder and entered after them.

He found his bed on the second floor, third from the rickety wooden stairwell that creaked with every single step.

The floor was arranged so there were two parallel rows of beds with the headboards against the wall. A small wooden chest rested at the foot of each bed. Near the stairwell was a closed door, which must have led to the mentor's room.

Second floor. That means my mentor is... Howler. The wolf appeared to be very disinterested in associating with the first-years so far. Hex wasn't sure if he should be grateful that he'd have some freedom, or if he should be worried that he'd have little to no guidance.

I wish Talara was my mentor. Because she seems so knowledgeable. Obviously. Yeah.

At least he was lucky enough to have Skel, Dracala, and Brains on his floor, too. Their beds were further down.

He waved to Dracala and she waved back.

Well, the accommodations left a little to be desired, and it wasn't the exact situation he'd have chosen. If I could choose, I'd still be back home in BrokenTree. With Dad.

But it was like Florimell said. At least I'm with friends. I'm not alone.

Hex hung his pack on a hook beside his bed. The hook immediately ripped out of the wooden frame and fell to the floor. The bag hit with a loud clunk, but no one seemed to notice as they all situated themselves and got ready for sleep.

He slid the bag under the bed instead, then pulled out Rupert's axe. His last token of home.

A wolf curled up on the bed beside him gave a curious one-eyed look, then shifted away.

Proxima had the other bed next to him and was already snoring loudly. At least one Monster he semi-knew was close by.

Hex yawned again and rubbed his eyes. I've never felt so tired. The life of a student, I guess. Then he tucked himself into the warmth of the itchy blanket and slid Rupert's axe under his pillow.

At least my friends and I are here now. It doesn’t get any safer than the Academy. One goal down. Now I just need to find Dad. He gripped the axe handle tighter under his pillow.

Sleep took him as soon as he closed his eyes.

Scrape.

Scrape..

SCRAPE...

Hex woke to blackness. Not the usual blackness of night, but of enclosure.

His gooey core thumped at the claustrophobia.

He was being moved horizontally—not of his own accord, but dragged. Scratchy canvas pressed against him all around. I'm in some sort of sack. How...? The last thing he remembered was climbing into bed.

He reached in the direction that felt like down and pushed against the firm ground on the other side of the sack. Shapes like stones, sticks, and leaves pushed back.

Scrape... Scrape... Scrape...

The dragging continued, and Hex remained quiet—aside from the churning of his insides. I don't know if I'm better off with my captors thinking I'm awake or asleep. They took me while I was sleeping, so that's probably best.

He wasn't as scared as he expected he should be in this situation. Maybe he was just getting numb from all the ridiculous things that had happened so far. Or maybe he was braver than he thought. Or maybe deep down, he'd convinced himself that this was some sort of hazing ritual and he wasn't in any real danger.

Amid the jostling and the dragging, a cushion continually squished atop him. He reached an appendage up slowly, hoping his captors wouldn't notice the movement within the sack, and realized it was his pillow. He squeezed it in a hug, as if nothing else in the world could comfort him, and discovered something else.

His hand settled on cold steel. A leather-wrapped handle.

Rupert's axe.

Whoever took him must have scooped him and the pillow up from the bed in haste, not realizing he had the weapon hidden. Now, if only I actually knew how to use it...

"I can't believe you really drugged them all," a voice whispered over the sound of canvas sliding on dirt. "Doing it at the feast was genius."

"My father might not be a king," a second, more distant voice replied, "but you can still learn a thing or two from a cook!"

"But it makes me wonder... You've never... drugged me without my knowledge, right?"

"Some secrets are better left unknown, my good prince!"

"Quiet," a third, gruffer raspy voice grunted.

All movement stopped. The only sounds were the whistle of breeze through the trees and crickets singing their songs. Then, what sounded like an army of other footsteps fell in beside them.

"You got 'em?" a new voice asked enthusiastically.

"Quiet," the gruff one said again. "Until we get deeper into the woods."

"C'mon, Garo, We can't even see the castle anymore," the one claiming to be a cook's son said.

There was an abrupt shuffle of movement nearby.

"I said he could call me Garo. You are no one. Maybe I crush you instead."

"Alright, let's settle down. Osiris, stop grinning when you're seconds from having your neck snapped. And Garo, he's right. We've come far enough."

A pause followed. Then the sound of something tumbling to the ground.

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"Very well. We swat the tiny gnats here then."

The sack Hex had been dragged along in suddenly inverted and he tumbled out. An audible grunt escaped his throat when he hit the ground.

Ah, not good. They'd definitely know he was awake now, if they didn't already. May as well get this over with.

Hex lifted his head, then locked eyes with a blonde-haired human squatting beside him and holding a black canvas bag. His immaculate white uniform stood out against the evergreen forest in the darkness of night, the golden trim of his shoulder pads sparkling in the little moonlight that pierced the canopy.

He averted his azure eyes, even before Hex could.

"Uh, Osiris..." he said to the only other human there—a dark-haired boy who'd just finished dumping an unconscious Dracala from his sack. "You might not be as skilled with potions as you think you are."

"How's that?"

"This one's awake."

The boy, Osiris—whose voice matched the cook's son—walked over, leaving Dracala sprawled in the dirt. "That's not possible. Even an adult bear would be out for at least another three hours with the dose I used."

"This definitely isn't a bear."

A muscular, green-skinned orc with spiked shoulder pads dispensed Skel and Brains from the sacks he carried, then lumbered over. "You said they wouldn't wake." A half dozen other scowling orcs watched, looking like they'd happily squish Hex into a puddle if given the chance.

Nine of them. One of me. I just need to act innocent. Not appear threatening. Not fight back. Act terrified and small. There was nothing he could stop them from doing at this point.

"Well, obviously that wasn't the plan, your highness."

Hex's friends lay unmoving in a mound behind his captors. Dracala's recently healed wing lay caught under Skel's pelvis, twisted at an unnatural angle. Again.

"Stop bickering," the blonde-haired boy snapped. He glanced to Hex, then leapt backward. "What the...? He's got a weapon!"

"How in Creator's name did he get a weapon?" Osiris asked.

Hex looked down at his hand and found it still gripping Rupert's axe tight. So much for not appearing threatening...

"Don't hurt my friends," he said, trying to sound as confident as he could.

Osiris stepped forward, but Hex swung the axe in an arc. He paused.

The large orc, Garo, laughed. "Scared of a puny bug, Osiris?"

"Hey, it's still an axe! Look at the edge on that blade!"

Garo stomped into the vacated space, pushing Osiris to the side.

Hex held up his axe again, his appendages trembling, but the orc simply plucked it from his grasp without an ounce of effort.

"Not too sharp," he said, grinning at Hex and exposing gold rings bored through his lower fangs. For a moment, it seemed like he was going to strike Hex with his own axe, but then he whirred around and impaled it in the dirt a hair from Osiris' foot.

Osiris hopped away far too delayed to have dodged it if the orc actually wanted to hit him.

The blonde-haired boy knelt beside the axe. "This is a Humanoid weapon," he said. "Not just any weapon, though." He looked at Hex, then back at Rupert's axe. "Made at Steelmount Forge. I'd know the style anywhere. Where did you get this, slime?"

Hex squished himself closer to the ground and wrapped his appendages around himself. Any confidence he'd been able to feign was now gone. "It was a gift," he squeaked.

"Who would give you something this valuable?"

"What does it matter, Rowan?" Osiris barked. "Let's just get this over with. I'm starting to smell like an orc."

"Hah! An improvement," Garo snorted.

Rowan stood reluctantly. He pulled a tangle of rope from the bag on his back. Several orcs came and took bundles. They began tying strands around the wrists and ankles of Hex's friends.

Rowan knelt back down holding his own length of rope. "Please don't resist," he whispered soft enough that no one else would hear.

He still won't meet my eyes.

"It'll be better for you this way."

Hex didn't resist.

He didn't resist as Rowan tied rope around his right appendage, even though he easily could have slid out of the knot.

He didn't resist as the orcs strung his friends up between the trees by their arms and legs.

He didn't resist as Rowan tied another rope around his left appendage. He clenched his mouth shut and stared at Rupert's axe sticking out of the ground.

He continued staring as the third rope went around his stomach and he was hauled up into the trees as well.

Osiris opened a jug of red liquid from his bag. He dipped his hand in and came over. He held a cupped hand to Hex's face, filled with the red liquid, sticky and dripping.

It smelled like blood.

"Hope this wasn't someone you knew," Osiris sneered, as he wiped his hand across Hex's body in an X.

He repeated the ritual with Skel, Dracala, and Brains, marking each with a blood X. Then he stood back to admire his handiwork.

"Alright, let's get out of here," Rowan said, pulling his bag up onto his shoulder. He looked back at Hex one last time before shaking his head and walking into the darkness.

Others followed, but Garo lingered.

He stood before Hex, his snout an inch from his eyes. "Don't ever try to pull anything on us again, fodder. Next time will be worse. Remember this night, puny bug."

Garo strode away, but paused as he passed Rupert's axe. He pulled it from the ground and licked the blade.

Then he slammed it against a boulder.

The metal crunched against stone—the sound echoing off the tree trunks and through the pines needles.

He slammed it again and shards snapped off.

Then again. And again.

Pieces flew in all directions, some even sticking into his legs, but he ignored them.

By the time he stopped, the rock was a mauled pile of rubble and Rupert's axe was no more. The blades were shattered and detached from a now crooked handle.

Garo tossed the handle to the ground below where Hex hung, then turned and strode into the trees as if he were taking a leisurely stroll.

Blood dripped from the mark on Hex's stomach, making little circles of red in the dirt around the remnants of Rupert's axe. He choked back sobs as tears fell too, mixing with the blood.

"I will..." he finally said. "I will remember this night."

Hex hung from the trees until dawn's light peeked through the mosaic of needles above him. He hadn't slept. His tear ducts had long run dry. Even the blood smeared across his stomach had begun to chip and flake.

Skel stirred first, his head wavering groggily.

Hex closed his eyes. They can't know I'd witnessed it all. That I'd done nothing.

I'll know. And that was already torture enough. Besides, if Skel finds out, he'll want to do something rash.

"Wha...? What's going on?" Skel asked, his voice strained and tired. "Hey. Hey, guys! Wake up!"

Hex pretended to rouse slowly. "Where are we?"

Dracala yawned and tried to rub her eyes, but couldn't move her wings against the ropes. She panicked for a moment, then noticed the ropes restricting her. "Is this some kind of joke?"

"I think I can get free," Hex said. He sucked in his belly and the rope around his torso fell to the ground. The binds on his appendages tugged tighter. He stretched them longer, thinning his wrists, and the ropes slid off.

He fell down and landed in the dirt beside the remnants of Rupert's axe.

"Hex..." Dracala said, seeing the shattered pieces. "Your axe..."

"I know."

He took one of the larger pieces of gnarled blade. Something reflected off it in the sunlight. Hex searched the ground. Tucked behind a few tufts of grass he found the small gem that had been embedded in the axe. He formed a small pocket in his goo and slid the gem inside. A last memento to remember Rupert and Ruben by... And home.

Hex cut Dracala and Skel free using the broken blade.

Dracala rubbed her wing and rolled her shoulder a few times.

Thank the Creator it's not as injured as it looked.

"Who would do this to us?" Dracala asked.

"Who do you think?" Skel said. "This has Humanoid prank written all over it." He grabbed another piece of the broken blade and approached Brains, who remained motionless in his hanging prison. "Alright buddy, time to get up."

"But why? Why us?" Dracala asked.

"Because we're Monsters. What other rationale do you think they need?"

Skel had a point. While some of the Humanoids seemed nice enough, it was clear Monsters were at the bottom of the food chain up here in Humanoid Territory. Maybe even lower.

But that wasn't the true why. And these weren't just any Humanoids who'd done this to them. They were orcs. Hex had worked it out as he hung there alone for hours.

From their conversations, the one named Garo—the one who'd destroyed Rupert's axe—was royalty. And his last statement had all but confirmed Hex's suspicions. Don't ever try to pull anything on us again. These were the same orcs they'd tried to attack with the Sack of Vengeance before Professor Blackbeard stopped them. The same orcs who'd injured Calcio on their journey north.

I know exactly who they are. But if I say anything, Skel will want revenge again. And then they'll retaliate worse. A never-ending cycle. One that would likely end up with one of his friends dead if he could believe Garo's threat—which he absolutely did. He couldn't put his friends at risk.

Hex dropped the piece of Rupert's axe in his hand. And besides... It's personal now.

This is my battle.

What Hex couldn't figure out were the humans. What did they have to gain from all this? Maybe they wanted to join just to participate in the harassment for fun. After everything he'd experienced so far, that wouldn't shock him. But one of them had seemed different. Guilty, even if complicit.

The one named Rowan.

"C'mon, Brains," Skel repeated. He shook the ropes binding his friend.

"I think something's wrong with him," Dracala said.

"Cut him down. I'll catch him."

Skel handed his shard to Dracala, who flew up and cut the zombie free. He tumbled down and landed in Skel's arms.

"It's alright. I got you," he said.

"We need to take him to Ravine," Hex said.

Skel and Dracala both looked at him. "Who?"

"The one who healed your wing."

"You wanna bring him to a Humanoid?" Skel spat. "After this? It was them who did this!"

"It wasn't her. She was kind."

Skel gave Dracala a skeptical look.

"It's true," she said. "Ravine would help him. She helped me. She told us to come to her with anything."

"Fine then. Let's go."

Hex shuffled into the infirmary with Skel and Dracala jointly carrying Brains over their shoulders. A dwarf guard at the castle entrance had led them here, since they still didn't know their way around. He hadn't offered to help carry Brains—not that Skel would've let him anyway.

An elf healer in a white robe met them at the doorway. "Ravine! We've got another one."

The elderly troll shaman stepped into view from behind a curtain, beaded pink hair swinging with the quick motion. Her eyes lit up with recognition. "Dracala? And Hex, yes?"

Hex nodded.

"Can you help him?" Dracala asked.

"Bring him this way," Ravine said, leading them around the curtain.

The castle infirmary was at least ten-times the size of Ruben's tiny healing hut back home—if it still existed. Twenty beds lined either side of the room, while five Humanoid healers scurried back and forth between them.

Nearly every bed was filled.

And each bed held a zombie.

"What happened?" Hex asked.

"We're unsure," Ravine replied as she fluffed a bed setting and helped guide Brains up onto the mattress. "It seems some illness has infected zombies. The contagion is isolated to the first-year class, though."

Skel scoffed.

"What?" Ravine asked.

"There's no mysterious illness."

"Skel..." Hex whispered.

"The four of us found ourselves hanging in the forest this morning." He pointed to the residue of the bloody X on each of them. "This was intentional."

Ravine raised her eyebrows. "This time of year we are always treating both Humanoids and Monsters who are victims of pranks and—"

"Does this look like a prank to you?" Skel was almost yelling, as he pointed to his unconscious friend.

A few of the other healers glanced over at his outburst. Ravine signaled something to them, and one rushed over with several wet rags for them to clean the blood.

"No. No it does not," Ravine said. "I have not seen something on this scale before."

"Not that it matters," Skel said, wiping the X off his ribs and pelvis. "No one's gonna do anything about it anyway."

Ravine placed a hand on his clavicle, but Skel wouldn't look at her. "I will get to the bottom of this. You have my word."

Skel shrugged and turned away.

"I will take good care of your friend," Ravine said to Dracala and Hex. "We have not observed any severe damage to the zombies we've examined so far. They are perfectly healthy, but in an extended state of sleep. Almost like hibernation. And now that I know what to look for, thanks to your skeleton friend, I can narrow down possible causes and identify an antidote."

"Thank you so much," Dracala said. "Again."

"If you are feeling well enough, the best thing you can do now is get to your initiations. Go back to your dormitory. I imagine they will be heading out shortly."

Hex left the infirmary with Dracala and Skel in tow. The guard who'd brought them here had returned to his post, so they were left to find their own way back.

Skel didn't seem to care, though. Once they were in the hallway, he stomped ahead as if he knew exactly where he was going.

"I don't care what the troll says. This isn't over," he said.

That's exactly what I was afraid of.