Trying once more, Torc created the gnomes. In them, Torc found the capacity for invention that the dwarves lacked. Where the dwarves were stout and strong, the gnomes were nimble and weak. The two races, ever pragmatic like their god, found they complemented each other and together filled Torc’s body with wonders of strength and cunning.

-Unnamed Dwarven Text

—

“Ow!” Kole yelled as he got slapped on the head by Zale while he was running laps in the morning.

“Wake up!” Zale yelled at him as she ran past.

Calling Kole’s pace “running” was really stretching the word. He’d only gotten two hours of sleep after his late-night success before his alarm woke him for Zale’s training. He was pleased to find that he hadn’t lost any of the stamina he’d built in the dungeon—which only really confused him further about the place’s mechanics.

“What kept you up this time?” She asked him when they were sparring.

“You’re uncle gave me actual advice this time. I spent the whole weekend learning a new Magic Missile,” he said, unable to keep from smiling. “I cast it twice last night.”

“That’s great!” Zale exclaimed as she swung at him.

He moved to block with his staff, but before he made contact, Zale vanished in a puff of black motes.

He spun around, in shock before realizing what had happened. Then, Zale appeared at his side, facing the same direction she had been when she left.

“Darn it!” she cursed—well, cursed for Zale. “I thought I’d be able to appear behind you.”

“Nope,” Kole said. “But, that’s a good idea.”

“Thanks,” she said, proud. “Harold suggested it.”

“Oh… that's… great—I guess.”

“I know. Isn’t it? I think I can get the hang of positioning, but my orientation will take some work.”

Their morning training wrapped up shortly after that. By then, it was the fourth week of the school year, and they were no longer the only first-year students out for early morning training. Those still not present were not likely to make it through the semester

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Zale said, pulling an envelope from her bag on the way to Alchemy class.

“What’s this?” Kole asked, looking it over.

The envelope was nothing special, save for the water stains on it in a few locations. “Kole Teak, Student at the Academy” was written in a rough hand on it.

Zale shrugged.

“I don’t know. Mom gave it to me to give to you.”

“Why is she getting my mail?” Kole asked, suddenly very concerned.

“Would you rather I go to the registrar and put down your living situation so you can receive it directly? Besides, it wasn’t even technically addressed to you.”

“Um, I guess this is better,” Kole said, taking the letter. “Teak was my father’s ship clan.”

Kole opened the envelope and read.

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

Kole,

We returned to your home port recently. All the ships were asked to produce their passenger logs, starting on the day of your embarkment. Obviously, there was no record of you. Just thought you’d be interested to know.

M

“What’s it say?”

“Did I ever tell you how I left Illandrios?” Kole asked, instead

“On a ship?”

“Yes and no.”

Kole quickly recounted the tale of his flight from his home, leaving out the embarrassing parts, like the fish fight, and the poo barrels. He’d never told Zale the specifics of his departure. He’d been—well, he’d tried to be—secretive about his past when he arrived, but now in light of what Zale revealed about her own family, it was silly of him to think he couldn’t trust her, and it was about time he returned her honesty.

After explaining it, he showed her the letter.

“Who’s M?”

“Meech, I assume. He’s kind of a smuggler-spymaster-fixer,” he explained.

“Hmm, I wonder if Mom knows him,” Zale mused.

“I know she has a… colored past but why would she know him?”

“She dabbled in piracy over the years,” Zale answered as if it were nothing.

“How in the realms is your mother allowed to teach children?”

“Don’t be like that, she’s great with kids, and a surprisingly good teacher when she wants to be, but we’re getting off track. Why do you think you’re being searched for?”

“I have no clue. I don’t even know why they tried to stop me from leaving. It could be my uncle trying to find me but… he doesn’t have the influence to get the floating city above to interrogate ships on his behalf.”

“You never talk about your uncle—or really your family at all…” Zale said, inviting Kole to share.

“It’s not so much a secret, as that I don’t have a lot to share. My mother was lost in a pocket realm when I was young, and finding her became my father’s obsession. Mine too, especially when he disappeared looking for her.”

Zale put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him. They were almost at the garden where that day’s alchemy class would be held.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”

“No, it’s alright. Amara knows about it. It just never came up,” Kole forced a smile and added, “Besides, your family is a lot more interesting. I only have the one uncle. I’ve lost count of yours.”

She laughed, and his forced smile turned genuine, and they walked into class together.

That first alchemy class set the tone that would define Kole’s fourth week of school. While he’d made amazing progress this past week in his wizardry, to say that his botany skills had atrophied would falsely imply they’d ever advanced beyond his grossly incompetent state.

Pale Oak kicked him out of the garden almost immediately, on seeing how he was handling a mundane grass she’d assigned him to practice on.

Sitting outside the garden, studying a book on the proper methods to harvest plants, he reflected.

I really should have used that extra month to do more than study magic.

Later in history class, he’d completely forgotten all the details of the previous week’s discussion, and he sat lost during the lecture trying to follow. He took notes but would need to dedicate time to rereading his old ones—at least the ones that had survived the ink spill and he’d been able to rewrite into his spellbook when it had just been a journal.

The thought brought another memory to mind. Tal had mentioned that his spellbook would likely produce extra paper.

Had it already? He wondered.

He pulled the spellbook out, and flipped through the pages, counting them. The book had exactly 200 sheets in it. Then he recalled he’d removed two pages—back when he’d not known it to be an ensouled artifact. He flipped back to where he’d been when he wrote the essay, but there was no sign of the missing pages or new ones in its place.

Was there 202 pages, or did it repair itself?

He spent the remainder of the class recounting the pages, confirming his count of 200, and then he removed one from the back as an experiment, tucking the page safely in his old filled spellbook in case it didn’t replace itself.

“Next week, we will be moving on to an analysis of the pre-Flood road systems of the Basin and what they tell us about the politics of the lost civilizations here. Be prepared for an exam on the topics covered thus far.”

A groan went out through the class, loudest by those who were also in Pre-Adventurer Battle Training.

On Tuesday, Kole walked into Martial 101 somewhat confident he hadn’t fallen behind here at least—though, he had started behind the rest of the class and was yet to catch up.

Tigereye announced to the students of Prevent, that their next dungeon run would take place aboard a ship, and asked them to prepare accordingly. This pronouncement elicited a storm of cursing from Rakin just like the mention of the ice sheet had.

“The man has it out for me!” Rakin grumbled as they ate after class.

“That’s not true,” Zale said “You know they don’t pick the locales.”

“They don’t?” Kole asked, surprised at the news.

“No, the dungeon changes on its own every week. Each time, Tigereye and Professor Underbrook go through it and see what’s in store for us.”

“The Dahn has it out for me then!” Rakin amended.

“Probably,” Kole said, earning a glare from the surly dwarf.