Hero's Road, Humanoid Territory

After several more hours of travel—and numerous, less eventful, Humanoid sightings—Hex spotted something in the distance, beyond the sparse branches of pine. A structure. Yellow in color. The hint of a flag waving in the wind.

"You have a pretty good eye," Skel said, noticing his attention. "That's the Academy."

Hex craned to see better, but couldn't make out any details. Except the shape. "It's a castle," he whispered.

"Don't get your hopes up. We don't get to go there yet."

"Then where?"

Calcio stood up in his driver's seat and smiled back at his charges in the wagon as it continued to roll on. "We're here! he sang, holding out the last word. "Welcome to Serepto Fields."

The trees opened up before them, exposing an expansive field down in a valley. Beyond it, past another grove of greenery and a stream, the Academy castle towered over all. As Hex suspected, it was built of yellowed brick, while red tiled conical roofs sat atop the many windowless towers. White flags waved upon the tallest of the powers, emblazoned with the Academy emblem, a yellow sun overlaid with a red sword and shield.

Hex had seen the emblem in a few of the more exciting books Ruben had snuck to him without his father's knowledge.

But as incredible as the sight of a real castle was, the bustle of movement in the field below drew Hex's attention away. Small camps set up around parked carriages and wagons populated the valley. Pitched tents formed circles around roaring fire pits.

In the right side of the field, most Humanoid races had segregated into their own clusters with some minor intermingling.

And on the left were the Monsters. More Monsters than he'd ever seen in one place in his life. Bears, golems, giant spiders, wolves, and more.

Calcio steered the wagon down the gradual slope into the valley. They passed several other Monsters on the way, many of whom seemed to recognize Skel, pointing and whispering at the skeleton. He stood on his seat and waved, then bowed dramatically like some sort of royalty.

While the others laughed, Hex couldn't help but notice the difference in conditions between the Monster and Humanoid camps. The Monster tents were constructed of mismatched scraps of leather, or scrounged together with whatever sticks were lying around.

It reminds me of home. Or at least... what the village used to look like.

Meanwhile, the Humanoids lounged around massive tents of dyed fabrics or exotic furs, trimmed with fanciful, superfluous details.

Skel sat back down and nudged him, pointing to a specific camp neat the field's edge on the Humanoid side, somewhat isolated from the others. "There they are,

he whispered.

"There who are?"

"Shhh! Keep your voice down."

Hex repeated the question in a murmur.

"The little tusk-easters who attacked Calcio."

Hex squinted at the camp. He recognized the carriage with its large tusk embellishments and the herd of boars and their riders guarding the periphery.

"Couldn't have asked for a better set up, right? The trees and bushes behind them there'll provide perfect cover. I think if—"

"Wait..." Hex said. "I thought we were supposed to bow our heads and try to avoid interacting with the Humanoids."

"Didn't you see how well that went with Calcio? I love the crumbling bag of bones, but he's stuck in the old ways. There's only one way to deal with a bunch of bullies."

"Oh yeah? And how's that?"

Dracala hopped over and put her good wing around Hex. "Become the bigger bully."

Skel grinned. "Exactly."

Hex's gooey center spun anxiously as he fumbled with Rupert's axe, which he'd hardly let go of since they escaped. "That doesn't feel like the right thing to do."

"It doesn't matter what it feels like," Skel said. "If we want them to stop picking on us, it's the only option."

"I assume you have a plan?" Dracala asked.

"I always have a plan." Skel winked at her.

Hex pulled Dracala aside. Why is she suddenly so chipper? A few hours ago she was still curled in a ball, and now she wants to dive headfirst into the first bad idea that comes along?

"I thought we didn't know if we were attending the Academy or not."

Dracala shrugged. "I've been thinking about it. And I want to become stronger so no one can ever do what happened to our village again. I overheard Proxima talking to some of the other skeletons about some sort of tournaments at the Academy against the Humanoids. I'd love nothing more than to beat the wolf pelts off the people who attacked our home."

"But, Dracala. The ones who attacked our home aren't here. Who knows where they are."

"They're all Humanoids. What difference does it make?"

Yeah. That's exactly how they view us, and look where that got us.

"And besides, like you said yourself... We have nowhere else to go."

He immediately thought of about a hundred other places they could go. They could go back south with Calcio after Dracala's wing was healed. Find another village near where there's used to be, like Ruben told them to. They could travel the Monster Territory as nomads. Anywhere besides the heart of the Humanoid land where they were clearly hated.

He shook his head. That's the old Hex talking. The one who hadn't lost his father. Who hadn't experienced a Culling. Who hadn't jumped into a wagon with a bunch of strangers. That Hex was afraid of everything. That's not me anymore. Despite how strongly his instincts tugged in that direction, Hex couldn't afford to be afraid.

Not anymore.

"Okay," Hex agreed. "I guess we're joining the Academy."

Dracala hugged him, then winced at the pain in her broken wing. She mouthed the words 'thank you,' the hurt only he could see still hidden in her eyes from the loss of her parents.

She needs this. I can be brave for you, Dracala.

Skel leaned in between them, wearing that giant grin again. "You made the right call. This is gonna be a blast."

In the Creator's name, Hex hoped he was right...

Calcio parked the wagon in an opening between a pack of wolves and a gaggle of cackling imps.

One of the imps clearly pointed at him. Its horned companion rose a few feet in the air on veiny wings to get a better look. Hex tried to keep his head down, but he heard them giggling seconds later.

A few of the wolves let their eyes linger a little longer than comfortable too. What's the big deal? Why are they looking at.... Oh...

It hit him. He was a tiny insignificant slime standing amid an army of skeletons and zombies. How ridiculous would that look?

Hex squeezed himself lower, trying to blend in among the skeletons and zombies, knowing he was failing. As everyone else got off the wagon, he stayed there, squished to the floor like a puddle until he was the last one left.

This wasn't one of the games he and Dracala used to play. These other Monsters were here to become warriors. And he was a blob of jelly.

The other Monsters were ferocious. Wolves had their razor teeth, imps had their claws and wings, golems had their defensive rock shell and incredible weight to throw around, skeletons could wield weapons. Even Dracala had her fangs.

What do I have? The answer was nothing. He was just a silly little slime pretending he could keep pace with all these future warriors. He was going to be obliterated if he stayed here.

A rotting hand grabbed his appendage. Brains pulled Hex out of the wagon and dragged him along, still curled into a tiny ball.

"Brains!" Brains exclaimed.

"Ah, there you are, Hex," Calcio said. "Now we can get started." He pulled several wrapped tents out from where they were strapped under the cart. Skeletons and zombies immediately got to work setting them up like the night before.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

Hex gripped tighter to Brains' hand as he tried to go assist his friends. Brains shook his arm, which sent a dislodged finger flying into the air, and tossed Hex onto the ground.

"Proxima," Calcio called. "Go fetch one of the healers. They should be under that red flag." He pointed toward the dirt path in the center of the field. "Tell them we've got a broken wing that needs mending."

Proxima ran off and Hex perked up. The original reason they came here was to heal Dracala's wing. That's all that matter right now. Focus, Hex. He looked around for his friend and found her helping pitch a tent on the far side of the circle they formed. Even with her injury, she was helping out. And here I am wallowing in self pity.

"Wolf pelts, I'm pathetic," he grumbled. Then he paused, a trickle of fear dripping down his back. He glanced over to the wolf camp nearby, hoping they hadn't heard his curse. There were no wolves living back in BrokenTree. They tended to keep to themselves, prowling the woods rather than settling into villages. Was ‘wolf pelts’ a derogatory term to them? Probably... I'll stick to curses about extinct species, just to be safe.

Hex forced himself up, brushed the dirt off his goo, and made himself useful. If Dracala can do it, so can I.

It didn't take long to finish preparing the camp with everyone working together. By the time they were done, Proxima returned with an elderly troll shaman in tow.

The troll stood taller than any of them. An extravagant white robe trailed down her torso and dragged in the dirt behind her, yet somehow remained immaculate. It was large enough that it probably could have housed a trio of skeletons if used as a tent.

She smiled as Hex as she passed by—at least he thought it was a smile, her pointed features making it difficult to interpret her expression.

Probably a smile of pity...

She abruptly pulled a long wooden staff out from a holder on her back.

Hex jumped backward and held his hands up, nearly falling over. Flashes of the elf swinging at him in Gulliver's Cave shattered through his memory. A staff to the stomach. Slamming against the wall. Dracala tumbling to the ground, unconscious.

Skeletal hands caught him and held him stable. "You alright, Hex?" Skel asked.

"Y-Yeah," he muttered, his cheeks burning red with embarrassment. The staff-wielding shaman had already continued by without even noticing his reaction. She held her staff like a walking stick, not a weapon.

Dracala and Cacio led the troll into a nearby tent, the beads and other trinkets in her pink hair clinking together as she ducked into the opening. It reminded him of the bones in Ruben's beard.

I hope the old dwarf is alright. He gripped his hand around Rupert's axe, but there was nothing there. He forgot he'd put the little weapon in his tent. It was the first time he'd let it out of his sight.

He followed the troll shaman inside Calcio's tent tentatively but stayed close to the entrance. The troll's long limbs made the tiny space inside even more cramped. But I should be here for Dracala.

"Hello, little one," the troll said to Dracala, her voice surprisingly smooth and maternal, with a bit of a broken accent. "My name is Ravine. What's yours?"

"Dracala."

"Well, Dracala. I hear you've got an injured wing. How did that happen?"

Dracala's eyes shot to the staff, now resting on the ground beside Ravine. "I… I'd rather not talk about it."

The troll healer seemed to take the hint and shook her head. "I'm sorry for whatever happened to you, little one." She pushed the staff back a bit on the ground, inadvertently sliding it closer to Hex.

He squeaked as it stopped a pebble's length from touching him.

Everyone stared back at him.

"Sorry," he whispered, waving a guilty appendage.

"Come sit down, Hex," Calcio said, patting the ground beside him.

Hex sat as the Ravine unwrapped Dracala's wing and pressed her fingers gently along the wound. Dracala winced, but tried to keep her face strong.

"Whoever took care of this injury did a good job setting the bones and keeping it stabilized. It will be much easier for me to heal." Ravine placed a hand on her staff, but didn't pick it up. "I'm just going to lift my staff for a moment. Is that alright?"

Dracala nodded and Ravine slowly raised her staff. She chanted unfamiliar noises that didn't even sound like words. A blue gem embedded into the wood of her staff closed bright. Faint streams of light trickled from it and coalesced around Dracala's wing. A faint scent filled the tent, like freshly melting ice.

Dracala's eyes widened, either from horror or awe—perhaps a little of both.

Then the troll stopped chanting and the glow dissipated.

"What's wrong?" Hex asked.

"It is done." Ravine smiled through her eyes, wrinkles creasing around them. "How do you feel, Dracala, my dear?"

"Already?" Dracala stood up and waved her wing around in circles. "It feels even better than before!"

"That fills me with joy to hear." The troll placed a hand on Dracala's head. "You ever need anything, you go to the infirmary. You ask for Ravine. Yes?"

Dracala nodded vigorously. "Y-Yes. Thank you!"

Ravine turned to Hex. "That goes for you as well, little slime." She jabbed him in the stomach with a wrinkled finger.

He looked down to see where she'd poked him, and his mouth dropped open. My bruises are gone too! Just like that.

Ravine winked, then backed out of the tent and left.

"What just happened?" Dracala asked, still testing her healed wing.

The odor lingered. Hex pictured the glowing streams again. He could still hear the echos of Ravine's chanting. It was something he never thought he'd see in his life. Something he'd only ever hear of in Ruben's stories.

"I think we just witnessed magic."

"You thought magic was a myth?" Skel choked on his own laughter as Brains snortled beside him after Hex told them about Ravine's healing. "What kind of hole in the mud did you say you came from again?"

Hex shoved the skeleton, and he fell backward, shocked. Hex looked down at his hand, just as shocked.

"Ah... Right..." Skel twisted his jaw to the side. "Sorry, Hex. I forgot..." He got up and patted Hex on the back. "I really am sorry—"

"It's fine," Hex grunted, shrugging his hand off.

"Look at me!" Dracala shouted from above, her wings fluttering good as new.

"Looking amazing, 'Cala!" Skel yelled back.

'Cala? Where in the Creator's name had that come from? Hex had known Dracala all his life and he didn't have a nickname for her. She was just Dracala. He was just Hex. We don't need made up names to sustain our friendship.

Dracala landed next to them. "Hey, I like that!"

Hex rolled his eyes and folded his appendages over his stomach. She probably would've hated it if he came up with the same name.

"Yeah?" Skel stroked his chin with a finger. "Now that we're at the Academy, I've been working on everyone in our crew." He patted Brains on the shoulder. "We've got B-Rod here. Proxima is Whiney for obvious reasons."

"I heard that!" Proxima screeched from nearby. "Try to make that stick and I will literally kick your coccyx all the way back home."

He leaned over to Hex and whispered, "It'll stick, trust me."

"And what about me?" Hex asked, skeptical.

"Still working on yours. You're an enigma, my friend."

"Great... Can't wait to hear it."

"Oh, lighten up, Hex," Dracala said.

He frowned at her. "Don't forget how we ended up here."

She squinted her eyes at him. "I haven't forgotten. I've just found the tiniest glimpse of joy for the first time in what feels like forever. I've got my wings back. Just let me have a few moments to not have to remember, okay?"

Hex averted his eyes. Anddd I'm the worst. All because I was a little bit jealous. Just keep your stupid mouth shut, Hex.

Calcio burst into the group in a panic. "Shh! Shh! Everyone look alive!" He stopped, looked at the cluster of undead skeletons and zombies around him, chuckled once, then continued. "In positions!"

Everyone scurried into an array or rows as Calcio had taught them on the journey up, heads bowed slightly.

A dwarf walked up to the group, clad in glistening gold armor and a sash of red and yellow about his shoulder. He looked nothing like Ruben—his hair cropped short and rigid, beard trimmed to a fine point, with red angular tattoos around his eyes. He rested his hand on the hilt of a massive battle axe, four times the size of Rupert's tiny one hidden away in Hex's tent.

"That's a professor," Skel whispered. "You can tell by the sash."

"How do you know so much about the Academy, anyway?" Hex asked.

He only replied with a shrug and a finger to his nonexistent lips.

Calcio has clearly been teaching everyone about this place, but Skel seems to know a bit more than the others. And he's just so nonchalant about it.

"Calcio!" the dwarf boomed, startling Hex. "I'm doing the rounds. Looks like you've brought me another good-looking batch of students this year."

"O-Of course, Professor Darion. As always. Headlined, this year, by none other than 'The White Demon of Doom's' own son."

Hex looked around excitedly. Even in his 'hole in the mud' of a village they'd heard of Skeletor 'The White Demon of Doom' Bonedust. One of the greatest Monsters to ever guard a dungeon across any World Gate.

I've been sitting in a wagon with Skeletor's own son this whole time? Which one...

Professor Darion raised a splinter of an eyebrow and scanned the group before him. "You don't say..."

Skel winked at Hex, then raised a hand. "Guilty as charged."

Hex's mouth dropped open. "You...?"

"Well, well," Professor Darion said, stepping through the rows to Skel. He patted him on the shoulder with a gauntleted hand. "We can expect big things from you, I'm sure."

No wonder he's so cocky. It's literally in his blood—er... bones, rather. He'd probably end up just as powerful as his father. Maybe more.

The dwarf professor glanced sideways at Hex and wore a confused look for a fraction of a second. He recovered quickly and focused back on Skel, but the look was undeniable.

Doubt crawled over Hex's jelly skin and rippled through his gooey center again. It was one thing for the other Monsters to look at him funny... But now a professor too? I don't belong here. Skel knows it. Clearly, this professor knows it. His pores began leaking their gooey excretion.

Professor Darion walked back to the front. He started speaking about the Academy, but Hex barely heard any of it as anxiety buried his mind in the dirt beneath him.

"Psst... Hex..." Skel whispered.

Hex blinked and looked at the skeleton, who nodded his head toward the front of the group twice. The dwarf professor—Darion, right?—was staring directly at him.

Professor Darion did not smile when Hex met his eyes. He squinted, those too-thin eyebrows creasing on his forehead.

Oh, great. Now I've ignored a professor on top of it all. I'm about to be smushed into gnoll dung. Yup... Goodbye friends. Goodbye cruel world. See you soon, mother.

The stern expression didn't change, but Professor Darion's voice became more relaxed. "I asked how a little slime like you came to be with this clatter of skeletons."

Why does everyone around here call me 'little slime?' I'm not that little. He glanced around at his companions. Well... I guess by comparison to everyone else. But I'm perfectly average by slime standards! And regardless, I'm not gonna let these Humanoids all talk down to me, no matter my size. Hex stood up straighter—as much as his amorphous blobular form would allow.

He didn't avert his eyes or bow his head like Calcio. "My village was Culled. My friend Dracala and I barely escaped. Our new friends were kind enough to pick us up on the road."

The dwarf nodded and his eyebrows shifted. He looked briefly to Dracala as well. "I'm sorry to hear that. Cullings are nasty business. I'm told the King is working to counteract them and uncover who's behind them. Hopefully your village will have justice soon."

Hex drooped down to his normal height. "I... Thank you... Professor."

He nodded again and resumed speaking to the rest of the group. "Entrance exams will begin tomorrow. In the meantime, rest and get to know your fellow classmates. I'll get your names from Calcio and have you all registered with the Academy. Best of luck to you."

Professor Darion stepped to the side with Calcio—who still kept his head tilted down even as he conversed with the dwarf.

The rest of the skeletons and zombies dispersed into their usual clusters of friends.

"Oh," Professor Darion spoke again and everyone froze. "And in the morning you'll all be separated by race for the exam."

"Separated?" Hex wheezed.

It was just one simple word, but... I've been separated from my father, my home. My mother long before that. Now this? Separated from the few friends I have. They're all I have. Literally. I can't be alone now.

His gooey center swirled in circles faster and faster.

Deep breaths, Hex. Deep breaths.

But somehow there was no air.

How is everyone else breathing? What’s going on?

A few skeletons scrambled to him, but he could barely see them, the edges of his vision blurring to black.

Separated...

Then he fainted.