Academy - Humanoid Dormitories

Rowan lay on his bed, head sinking into the overly plush pillow. He punched the pillow to disperse some of the excess fluff.

Why does everyone always assume royalty need everything cushy and clean and overdone? It could never just be comfortable. It had to be the most comfortable. Not shiny, but the shiniest.

He tried to relax again. Now the pillow only ballooned out to his ears instead of all the way past his eyes.

His Leveling Scroll rested on his chest. He rolled it open for the hundredth time.

Level 17. It was no Level 21 like Uthen had been granted during his first year, but it was still exceptional. Far better than he'd expected.

He brushed a thumb across the words denoting his assigned class.

Paladin.

It makes no sense. He was supposed to be a Warrior like Uthen. Like their father before. Paladins could fight, sure. But they were far more specialized in healing and buffing others.

"What'd you ask the ole Creator?" Osiris asked from his bed. He, for one, enjoyed the luxurious comfort, sprawled out over three pillows, eating fresh grapes off a vine.

The Academy paired all new students in bedrooms, three bedrooms connected to a common sitting area, which meant six total students per suite. They hadn't met the other four yet.

"So?"

"I asked him why I was assigned as a Paladin," Rowan lied.

"Hey. It's better than a Bard," he snorted, crumpling his Scroll into a ball and tossing it the floor. It instantaneously uncrumpled and floated back up to his hand.

"I think it's fitting."

"You would." Osiris plucked another grape with his teeth. "So what'd the big man say?"

"Hmm?"

"Why are you a Paladin?"

Rowan averted his eyes, not having thought of a good answer yet. "Oh, umm. He said it's because I like to help others." Sure. That sounds convincing.

"Well, that's true. You are a big softie, Row."

"Yeah," he said, hardly paying attention to the conversation. The real question he'd asked the Creator distracted his thoughts.

Who saved me from the dwarf down in Monster Territory?

'You saved yourself,' He'd replied.

It wasn't true though.

Either the omnipresent being who watched over all the worlds hadn't seen what happened... Or he's lying to me. Neither possibility was comforting.

"You're not curious about what I asked?" Osiris wore a giant grin, clearly pleased with himself.

Rowan leaned up on an elbow. "Alright then. What'd you ask?"

"I asked for Garo's mommy's name." Osiris could barely contain his laughter and almost choked on a grape.

"You wasted your question for the Creator on that?"

"Who says it's a waste?"

The door to the room rattled with a firm knocking.

Auren's voice called from the other side. "There's a visitor for you, Prince Rowan. It's your brother, Prince Uthen Regicast IX."

"Your guardsman is so formal," Osiris said, getting up from his bed.

"Only when he's on duty."

Osiris opened the closet and pulled on a lightweight Bard's tunic Rowan's father had already gifted him in the half-a-day since their dip in the Halcyon. It was nice, though it was nothing compared to the shining new armor that rested in his own closet.

"Isn't he always on duty?" Osiris asked.

Rowan shrugged. "Where are you going?"

"I'm gonna go moan Garo's mother's name outside his room." He looked back with a devilish grin.

He wasn't kidding.

"You're gonna get yourself killed eventually."

"The Bard never dies!"

Rowan rolled his eyes.

Osiris opened the door and brushed past Uthen. "He's all yours, your majesty," he said, before skipping out of view. His sing-songy voice echoed off the stone walls, tailing in his wake. "Oh, Thrasila! Your hands are so soft! Your hips so wide!"

Uthen walked in, shaking his head. The door closed behind him.

"Your friend is going to get himself killed."

"Already told him that."

His brother sat on Osiris' bed, broad shouldered and muscular—not bulging like an orc, but enough that you'd know he was naturally athletic at a glance.

He brushed a hand through his short golden curls, and smiled wide across his square jaw, intentionally reminding Rowan that he was not only stronger, but better looking, too.

"So, you survived the first day..." Uthen said.

Rowan mumbled in acknowledgment.

"What'd you think of the Hero's Promenade?"

Rowan kicked his feet back up on the bed and rested an arm behind his head. "Why are you here, Uthen? Don't you have more important things to do?"

He moved over to Rowan's bed and sat near his chest. "What? I can't come check on my baby brother?"

Uthen ruffled his fingers through Rowan's curly hair much more fiercely than someone who was visiting as a loving brother, nails scratching against scalp.

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There's a reason you're here. And it has nothing to do with checking up on me.

"Why are you really here?"

Uthen pulled his hand back, then punched his shoulder. "Nothing gets by you, huh? I've been selected for an extended stay in Peacecraft."

Rowan sat up straighter. Peacecraft? So he was here to gloat then. Peacecraft was one of the most sought after assignments. Of course he's already scored a mission there.

"I'm not sure when I'll be back," he continued. "I really did want to see if you needed any advice before I left."

Rowan shoved his brother lightly. "Peacecraft, eh?"

His eyes glimmered with pride.

"Actually..." Rowan said. "Have you ever heard of someone getting a different entrance exam scenario in the Sarc than everyone else?"

His lips twitched, betraying some reaction that Rowan couldn't read. "Who'd that happen to?"

"Me."

"It worked then."

"What do you mean?"

His expression turned to stone. "I requested your test be changed, Rowan."

"You... What?"

The pain that had felt too real. The torture. The endless onslaught of Monsters. It had all been his own brother's doing?

"I asked Bernadias to design a test especially for you."

"But why?"

Uthen stood, but kept his back turned. "You claim you're not a sensitive little baby. Well, it's time you start acting like it."

What? That came out of nowhere. He sounds like Father.

Rowan instinctively touched the pendant under his shirt from his mother. "I’m not! I killed a dwarf who attacked me just the other day. I—"

"Good." Uthen twisted his head to look at Rowan. "But how many Humanoids will you kill before you take your sword to a Monster? You've always been tough when fighting or training against other humans, dwarves—even orcs. Yes, I heard about your duel with the Bloodfist heir. No one can deny your talent.

"But for some reason, when it comes to Monsters and other creatures you turn into a pathetic child." He placed his hands firmly on Rowan's shoulders. "I will need you when I'm king, Rowan. But I can't have a weak-willed, fodder-loving coward as my right hand. I need someone decisive. Aggressive. Trustworthy."

Rowan's hand clamped onto the bedsheets, but he had no words to respond.

"Will that be you?"

"We poisoned a bunch of Monsters and strung them up in the woods just last night," he blurted, but the words brought bile to his throat.

He'd felt guilty then, looking into that slime's eyes as he tied him up, seeing the other Monsters' unconscious bodies hauled up into the branches. Why do I have to feel guilty?

But Uthen smiled. "I guess the test is working then."

Working? "What do you mean?"

It suddenly dawned on him. The purpose of the modified exam wasn't to test my skills at all. It was to desensitize me against hurting Monsters.

Uthen's cold eyes stared at him as he watched the realization.

The door burst open and Osiris stood in the frame, completely out of breath. "Am I interrupting something?"

"No," Uthen said. He shouldered past Osiris and left without the slightest glance back.

"You're not gonna believe this..." Osiris said.

Rowan stood. The room felt a lot smaller than it had a few minutes ago. I have to get out. Fresh air maybe.

He threw on a light jacket and headed to the door.

"Are you even listening?" Osiris asked, grabbing his shoulder.

"No," he snapped. "I don't care about Garo's mother or playing pranks or whatever he threatened to do to you."

"What? No, it's not that. Though, funny story..."

Rowan glared at him.

"Right. I'll tell you later. This is even better than that anyway."

He had a foot out the door. "Well?"

"I think I killed all the zombies."

Rowan froze.

Killed all the zombies...?

He turned back to Osiris. "What do you mean, you killed all the zombies?"

Osiris scratched the back of his neck. "Yeah... Well, not dead dead. Can a zombie even die, really? I—"

"Osiris."

"I guess the first-year zombies still haven’t woken up from the sleeping draught I slipped into the food at the feast. People are talking about it all down the hall. They've all been taken to the infirmary. I came back as soon as I heard."

A pit formed in Rowan's stomach.

Auren shot him a nervous glance from his guard post outside the room. Rowan peered around the corner to make sure their roommates weren't in the common area listening to all this, then pulled him in and closed the door.

"You guys really outdid yourselves," Auren said. "When I was here, the best we came up with was filling their pillows with rotten vegetables."

"This is bad," Rowan said.

"Why?" Osiris fell backward onto his bed and lounged. "They're just Monsters."

Uthen's accusations rang in his ears.

He pushed down the guilt. It felt like his entire future balanced on the tip of a spear. I can finally matter beyond being just some extra, born as a backup plan in case Uthen dies. He'd always assumed he'd be a right-hand man to his brother in some fashion someday, but Uthen had never said anything outright. Until now. I can be more than the surplus prince, as Garo calls it.

But Uthen had essentially given him an ultimatum.

He took a deep breath.

Osiris is right. They're just Monsters. I'm a prince. Monsters were below him, below any Humanoid. Why should I be the one who feels bad? No one else does.

"They’ll never know it was us," Osiris said.

"The slime," Rowan said.

"What about him?"

"He knows."

"Did you see how scared he was of Garo? He practically peed himself. Maybe he did. I don't know how slimes pee. He won't say anything. And if he does... Well... You know."

Rowan walked through the castle courtyard, lit only by dim multicolored orb lights revealing outlines of the exotic plants that rested in the darkness. Auren and Killian strode along on either side, bickering across his face like an old married couple.

He tried to block out their voices, though the one trapped in his own head was no more pleasant.

How many Humanoids will you kill before you take your sword to a Monster?

That's what Uthen asked me.

If the slime talks, will I be able to silence him?

Yes. This time I will.

There was no other choice.

He didn't want it to be this way. But this was the world he lived in. This was the role he'd been given. There's nothing I can do to change that.

"Paladins are far stronger than Rangers," Auren said, waving his hands around as if it were the most obvious statement ever.

"You're just saying that because you're a Paladin," Killian retorted.

Auren put a gloved hand beside his mouth and pretended to whisper. "I'm trying to help our prince realize he's not a worthless piece of trash just because he's not a warrior."

"And you're absolutely certain comparing him to yourself is the best approach there?"

Rowan rolled his eyes, but stifled a laugh.

"And besides," Auren continued, ignoring her insult, "it's not an opinion. My strength stats are well beyond yours."

Killian raised an eyebrow and slapped Auren's shoulder around Rowan's back. "Oh, yeah? Care to put that to the test? I'll wrestle you right here, right now. A lot of good those stats will do you here..."

"Okay, okay," Rowan interrupted. "You know you two don't need to try to cheer me up. I'm fine."

Auren rubbed the few whiskers on his chin. "Actually it's literally in the contract we signed. 'If Rowan is sad, fix him.'"

"I don't remember that. Must've been in the fine print," Killian said.

"It was on the back."

"There was a back?"

"Never sign anything without checking the back."

Rowan pulled a leaf from an overhanging branch and ripped it in half. "Lucky for you, I hereby void that portion of the contract. You are free to let me wallow in misery."

Auren wrapped an arm around his shoulder. "Can't get rid of me that easily. Even if the contract said 'On penalty of death, thou shalt not aid Rowan in his emotional solitude' I'd still be here for you."

"Wow, now that's loyalty," Killian said flatly.

"I honestly don't mind being a Paladin," Rowan said. "The more I think about it, the more I believe it's the right path for me. Uthen will be the Hero-King, and I'll be his support behind the scenes, helping him be even stronger than he would on his own. This is how it's supposed to be."

"That's the spirit!" Auren raised his fists in the air, then struck a majestic pose. "And I'll guide you every step of the way—exceptional role model that I am, and all."

"So exceptional," Killian echoed.

They constantly joked and harassed one another, but Auren and Killian were still impressive guards. Even as they pretended not to flirt with each other, both always kept an eye on the surrounding. They remained on high alert, despite the relatively low risk of danger at the Academy.

Which is why he was surprised neither of them noticed the pair of eyes watching them from a shadowy tree branch across the courtyard.

Rowan slapped Auren's chest plate to get his attention.

"What is it?"

The shadow disappeared by the time he looked back at the tree. Was I seeing things? Surely Killian would've noticed something amiss far before me..

"Nothing," he said. "Just thinking I should probably head back in for the night."

"Good idea," Killian said. "Auren needs his beauty sleep too."

"Never underestimate beauty sleep, my dear."