The Girl

The girl wished there was a good way to get blood out of paper in time to turn the acceptance letter in. It's not like the boy even entered the draft on his own. She'd signed up every Rian Freedman in the city. It was the most common name for a child between sixteen and twenty. Freedman is the name chosen by bastards or freed slaves, and Rian being the hero that quelled the curse dungeon. She'd changed her own name to match, a few girls shared it. It had all been a numbers game to get the letter. The admissions only cared if the name matched when you placed your hand on the core of the academy and got to first see your status.

A pebble struck her back. "Hey, Boy! I'll give you five copper if you help me polish my armor." Rian instinctively reached for where she kept her knife only to come up empty. She'd left those, her tools, the slightly bloody dress, and all other personal possessions inside a wall she considered her stash area. Hacked-off hair, baggy clothes, and a soft cap, and it wasn't surprising this budding adventurer thought she was a boy. The large admissions gate area to the road into the first ring of Pricore Academy had already started to attract a crowd despite the five hours until they unlock it and let the throngs of new students in. Perfect for getting lost in the crowd as someone else.

The new Rian tried to lower her voice. "Make it ten, and I'll help make it shine." It would be a way to pass the time, and it never hurt to make connections with someone equipped and wealthy enough to have armor.

The blond sandy-haired youth laughed. Muscled and physically developed enough that Rian judged had to be closer to eighteen or twenty summers. His clothing implied that of a younger lords child. No one wanted to risk their Heirs as an adventurer or to the academy. "Great! Maybe you'll pick up a skill."

Status, Skills, Levels is all that kids who wanted to join the academy focused on. Rian swaggered over and took the rag and polishing compound from the young lord as well as ten coppers, then she followed him back to the armor stand he had set up. Looking at the tarnished and slightly rusty armor, she wondered if she should have asked for more. The youth saw the look on Rian's face. "It was my grandfathers. Dad offered to buy me a new set, but I wanted the legacy. I'm Jon Applewood."

"Rian Freedman." She got to work polishing. She knew it was doubtful that she'd pick up a skill from the work. When you first got your status it listed the skills that would affect you when you level, as well as those you are close to making a skill or have a talent for. You're whole first year is spent strengthening those skills or adding more for your transition from level zero to one. That and surviving. Only two-thirds of the two thousand students make it to level one. It didn't matter if the class was solely comprised of trained, experienced applicants. That was why they initiated the lottery for eight hundred of the incoming students. They would soak up the attrition.

"You missed a spot. You want to make sure you get the joints real good." The humor in Jon's eyes made her want to stab him, but she settled with knowing that only about six hundred or so survived until graduation. Not that the school advertised that. There was a lot they didn't advertise. Things they tried to hide but couldn't. Rian knew the value of secrets.

Rian polished. Menial tasks always gave her time to think. Being unnoticed in a crowd made her feel strong like she was taking something away from those who overlooked her. A third of the way into the job, Jon took another rag and started to work on polishing the other side. "Excited about seeing your skills?" Jon asked.

Rian gave a noncommittal grunt as she put some extra strength into clearing a bit of rust.

"Grandpa says on average, a student comes on with four skills and a slew of sub-skills to work on. My tutors reckon I've managed to work hard enough to have eight show up once I've got my status. Lottery students like you often only start with two. I wonder why you do it when you're already so far behind, let alone as a woman."

Not completely clueless. Rian knew he must have been studying her as much as her work on the armor. Everyone wanted some form of an identifying skill for the benefits it can provide when one finally ascends a higher level. Rian changed her accent. "Who says I am a lottery student? I could be a disaffected daughter of a powerful family seeking freedom." The high born voice was so spot on she could see Jon was shaken.

"My lad…"

Rian loosened her jaw. "T'a se muy brooch bout low, ti in cut yur coins und nuts." She flipped to the low dialect of crude river folk.

"What?" Jon stammered, dumbfounded.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

In a completely un-accented voice, Rian continued, "You can't judge someone's skills at first glance, Jon. You know they say the academy always holds surprises."

Rian knew that would grab his interest and maybe protection if she needed it. Some people would do extraordinary things to solve a riddle.

****

Raff

The morning sunbathed most of the boy's body, and he felt stronger for it. There had been a complaint when he had done it naked on a snowy day. So now he wore just short cut pants. People still called him crazy for that in the chilly end of winter weather, but at least no one called the guards on him.

"Raff, get your lazy ass down from there. I've never seen you linger so much after you've decided what you were going to do." Raff recognized the voice of Ben, who he rented a room from.

Raff furrowed his brow in curiosity. It's true that he tended to dive into hobbies and tasks only to abandon them once he got bored. Sculpting, fencing, acrobatics, poetry, cobblery, he had never worn shoes, but had been fascinated by the idea of them, and many other projects. "Ben, I haven't decided to do anything." He yelled down using a voice he had perfected molding during a stint as an orator.

"An acceptance letter to Pricore academy shows up this morning. You're still officially Rian Freedman, right? With what you do and the adventurer skill stuff, I figured that maybe you had been getting smart about a path in life with all the jumping around you do."

This caused Raff to sit up. "I never applied to the academy." The idea of being an adventurer and going out and fighting monsters had never appealed to him. He had heard that you could find out what you would be talented with. It was also the only way to get magic as well. He'd been called talented, many times by many teachers, but he inevitably ended up feeling like he mastered a skill and got bored. "I'll be down in a moment."

"Now boy, don't you go." But it was too late. Raff had stepped off the two-story roof and was falling downward. Ben winced as he watched the boy land and on his bare feet, knees bending to take the fall. "I don't know how you do that. It freaks me out."

"You just have to fall and land the right way." Raff smiled a Ben who just shook his head at his behavior.

Ben shoved the folded parchment into Raff's hand. "They say you can learn anything at the academy. They even house you on that crazy circular campus of theirs."

Raff considered letting the paper fall from his hand and onto the ground. He hadn't applied to the lottery for the academy. Some feeling made him accept it. He'd let luck decide many things in his life. Why not this.

***

Asper

Asper hacked away at the base of the thorn bush with a fury that it didn't deserve. For the third year in a row, he had applied for the lottery to get into the academy. Nothing. He strained himself with another hack. The bushes came back every year, no matter what concoction he poured on the roots after hacking the plants down. I'll never get that alchemy or gardening skill now, he cursed inwardly. The academy will tell him how much his hard work had been paying off, and more importantly, what he might be good at. It seemed like nothing at all most days.

He knew some of his friends had skills. Nothing he tried seemed to click. He had thought he had wrestling down until he figured out his friends were letting him win. Clumsy would be a kind word for his skills with anything physical. Dim for studying. He still hadn't finished the book that had been gifted to him last year. He punctuated his strikes on the thorn bush with the frustration that he had no real talent. Hard work will bring skills his uncle assured him, he just needed to work every day with patience. Lifting heavy objects seemed to be the only thing he had built up over the years, and even then, Bill and Henry were stronger with half the work put into lifting.

As frustrated as he was, he had that little bit of relief that he wouldn't be placing his hand on the core to get his status. The idea of having it be blank haunted his worst dreams. Still, the sub-skills the places where the academy thought he would be best at would be revealed. He'd made Alice sicker when he tried his hand with a simple poultice. Sweat drenched him as he hacked at the base of the bush, beating his frustrations out on it.

"Asper! Calm down. You don't want to wear yourself out." His father's voice shook him out of his action, and he set down the hoe he had been using to hack at it with.

The young man let out a low groan and turned to his father. "It's just..."

"You don't have much time to get ready. I don't need you tiring out on me now." His father interrupted with a hint of humor in his voice.

"What are you talking about? I have all week to clear the bushes. This time I'm sure my weed killer will take them out." His father was happy being un-leveled. He ran his little shop without a care for the academy and adventures that went there. Asper thought he was just humoring his dream with his pats on the back and telling him he will succeed next time after every failure.

"I pooled together with my friends." He reached into his jacket and pulled out a square of parchment and handed it to his son.

"It can't be." He grabbed the paper from his father and read it. Asper Gorn has been accepted into Pricore Academy. "The gates open soon. Why didn't I get this in the morning?"

"We could only afford one of the free spots that would only be available if one of those who entered the lottery declined, and I only just received it. Apparently they had a few who did this year. I know you've dreamed of this for years."

Asper felt his heart beat faster, and ears roar with the blood rushing into his head. "They shut the doors if I don't make it in time! I need to run." He started moving.

"There's a bag at home. We packed it just in case. We'll miss you, son." His father called after him.

"What? I'll miss you too. I'm in! Thank you! I'm in!" He knew his fears and dreams would meet today, but couldn't help but grin at the energy he got thinking of the challenge.