Their first official day as guild trainees started in a very familiar way. Dressed in fresh clothes that Matthews had given them—sand-colored pants with a white shirt where the word ‘TRAINEE’ was printed in big letters across the chest and back—Ark and Mino walked down a few stairs to arrive at the guild’s weight and fitness room for ‘Conditioning’.
They walked in on at least a hundred people exercising, along rows of weights and treadmills. The sweet musk of sweat hung heavy in the air, and the constant sound of bars clanging, feet stomping, and quiet conversation filled the room.
Eyes fell upon them instantly, before ignoring them completely. Their shirts clearly delineated them as temporary members, which served as explanation enough for their presence. This also made it easy for Ark to spot their teammates, as they were the only ones similarly dressed.
Rex and Jenson were spotting each other in the weights section, while Naomi and Ran were on the treadmills; both groups clearly ignoring each other, as well as Ark and Mino.
That suited Ark just fine, and both he and Mino began their own work without much deliberation—this part they both understood and were used to. Conditioning was simple: you entered the training room and received your program for the day. Everything you did while in the room was logged and analyzed, then processed into a new program the following day.
There was limited staff on hand, mostly for supervising the cleaning droids that occasionally worked the room, otherwise you were on you own. Simple.
As newcomers, Ark and Minos programs were all about setting baselines in strength, stamina, speed, and agility; all of which Ark attacked with the tenacity of a bulldog. Of everyone here, he knew he had the most to prove and that conditioning would showcase the worst of him.
With his short stature and thin limbs, Ark had always been the weakest during his time in the Maze, and his years of fighting starvation in Lowtown had not helped the situation. Struggling with the weights, Ark gritted his teeth, and ignored the subtle looks from the others as he worked through each exercise with the utmost care for his posture and technique.
Pushing through his program, Ark’s breath came in steady rhythms. Each lift, each pull, a testament to the willpower he had cultivated in lieu of physical advantages. Nearby, Mino’s grunts echoed in the background, a reminder of the raw strength that Ark had always admired.
While no one paid much attention to Ark, after a single look at what he could manage, Mino received quite a lot of attention when he began lifting weights. This was partly due to his massive frame dwarfing all of the equipment, but also due to the sheer strength he displayed. He filled each bar to the limit, and showed little to no strain when he worked—much to the impressed amusement of the older guild members.
In speed and agility, Mino’s result were less impressive, as he was even slower than Ark, who had no particular specialty to showcase.
They finished their conditioning within two hours, and after a shower and new set of clothes, they were on to the next item on the schedule: daily lectures. Being part of the guild meant they needed to understand the guild’s procedure and customs, learn the basics of field craft, as well as identifying the general threats they would encounter on their riftrun. There was no real name for these lectures, so they were just called Basics, according to Doug.
Thus, Ark and Mino entered a small room on the eighth floor, finding their fellow trainees standing attention before a slightly raised dais, where two men stood and chatted, waiting for their arrival.
One was so old that Ark was surprised he could even stand, with his thin frame and bowed legs. He had a wispy, white beard around a perpetual frown, and sunken eyes obscured by thick glasses.
The other was middle-age and clearly fit, judging from the bulging biceps that were threatening to ruin a perfectly good shirt. He had dark hair, slicked and combed, and green eyes that shone in contrast. He wore the hint of a smile on his lips, as he stopped talking to the older man and addressed Ark and Mino.
“Ahh, our newcomers. Please come right in—and everyone sit down.” He waved in the general direction of the other trainees, who acceded to his command with a mechanical snap that told Ark they knew exactly who the man was.
Once Ark and Mino had found their seats, the man’s smile widened slightly as he said, “My name is Gerome Wells, I am a vice leader in the guild, and in charge of the Lowtown branch,” he said, casually dropping a metaphorical bomb in Ark’s lap. “I am also the one who will ultimately decide if you’re all worthy to become members of the Explorers Guild.”
You could hear a pin drop in the room, so intent was everyone on his words. Seeing their rapt attention, Gerome nodded to the old man, “To the newcomers, this is Instructor Mallis, our foremost expert on the Web of Realms, who will be teaching you the basics you’ll need to survive during your riftrun.”
The old man gave an appreciative nod to the vice guild leader, but kept silent.
Turning back on the trainees, Gerome continued. “I am here today to inform you that due to our latest entrants, your team has now been closed and a date has been set for your expedition into the realms.”
A slight rustle of enthused excitement was all the trainees dared in response. Ark did note, however, that everyone leaned slightly forward, eyes focused on the vice guild leader with a palpable hunger.
“You will leave two months from now, to the realm of Iskar—a dungeon with a cavern phenotype. It has technically been designated as fully explored, but it has a growth spec that means it is constantly shifting and developing new paths. We want you to make the run and look for unclaimed resources along these new pathways.”
Ark swallowed the information whole, already priming his netlink to search for information on the realm, although the publicly available information would be nothing next to the guild’s internal records.
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“As an introductory riftrun, this is a perfect fit, but accidents can still occur. I expect all of you to prepare as if your life depended on it,” Gerome said, his smile growing into a serious frown, “Because, in our business, there are no second chances. Your instructor will be there in case of emergency, but they will not interfere as long as they deem your situation to be within the acceptable limits of risk, considering the position you are attempting to claim.”
He looked at each of them in turn, engraving his meaning in his dire expression so that none of them would misunderstand. This was not happy-school-trip-time, it was life and death. Ark wetted his lips, feeling his stomach leap with both excitement and trepidation. He wanted this, more than anything else, but he knew the risks.
“I hope that I have made my point clear,” Gerome said, after a theatrical pause, “If any of you decide to back out, you may do so at any time before you set off to Iskar. Once underway, however, you will be bound by guild rules and military law; desertion will be punished harshly, and you will forfeit any chance of ever achieving membership of any guild, not just the Explorers Guild.”
After another moment of silence, the vice guild leader turned to the old instructor, and spoke in a near jovial tone. “Did I forget anything, Mallis?”
“I think they got the gist of it, Vice Leader,” Mallis said, his voice a hoarse croak, “Otherwise, I shall be sure to reiterate over the coming weeks.”
“Excellent,” Gerome smiled and turned back on the trainees, “As a part of my evaluation of you all, I will be observing today’s lecture. Just act as if I’m not here, alright?”
With that impossible command delivered, Gerome walked down the dais and the line of seats—each trainee stiffening as he passed—until he was at the very back, where he stood and leaned up against the wall with his arms crossed.
Ark felt the mood shift in the room as clearly as if the temperature had suddenly been raised by five degrees. Rex and Naomi slyly eyed one another, while Jenson stared daggers at Ran—who ignored the red-head completely. There was a dynamic at play here that Ark only had a tenuous grasp on, and the vice guild leader had just thrown a powder keg into the mix.
Getting noticed by guild leadership at the trainee stage was a golden ticket to future success, and everyone in the room knew it. Ark noticed Mino looking at him through the corner of his eye, and he shook his head ever so slightly. His friend raised an eyebrow, but then just shrugged an inch. They both leaned back to observe the battle that was about to unfold.
“I will briefly review the material we have already covered,” Mallis said, eying Ark and Mino seated at the back, “The two of you will have to read up on it on your own. You will be tested over the course of your training period, and your results will affect whether you will be allowed to participate in the riftrun. Is that understood?”
When he heard their verbal assent, Mallis waved at the wall behind him, where the image from the guilds official symbol appeared on a virtual screen: Vanguard in the middle, surrounded by nodes connected by lines of light. “This is the Web of Realms,” he said, looking at it with a wistful expression, “It is all we have manged to uncover since our exile into the abyss. The barrier that separates each realm from one another, and effectively creates the distance we observe on the map, this we call the Inverse between realms. This is in reference, and opposition, to the space from Homerealm that we called the Universe. You will read up on this on your own time.”
Nodding to himself the old man turned to the trainees, narrowing his eyes as he studied them. “Now, let’s go over the legends depicted on the map. Who will begin? Yes, Naomi, go ahead.”
Ark had seen her hand go up into the air like lightning. He also caught the twitch from Rex, as she sullenly put her own hand down.
“The straight lines indicate stable portal connections between outposts throughout the Web. There are six leading directly out of Vanguard, one for each guild.” Naomi spoke with the clipped confidence of someone reciting from rote memory. With a nod from Mallis, she continued. “The wavy lines indicate a link between realms through rift activity, but without an established portal.”
“And the difference between rifts and portals?” Mallis said, looking away from Naomi to the trainees at large, “Yes, Rex.”
Rex squared her shoulders, after having thrust her hand so high up into the air she almost jumped from her seat. “Rifts occur naturally between certain realms, probably due to their respective proximity within the Inverse. Rifts can also be induced through the use of rift eggs, but these connections deteriorate within days, if not hours.” She was also confident, her tone displaying no less pride in her knowledge than Naomi.
“Portals, on the other hand, are rifts that we have managed to stabilize into permanent connections between realms. These are usually subsidiary realms under our control, from where most everyday resources are collected.”
“Very good.” Mallis nodded, then turned away from a victoriously smiling Rex and fixated on another trainee. “Ran, give me the designation for the known realm types.”
The dour boy with the dark curls and dispassionate eyes had a voice like gravel, as he said, “Dungeon. Field. Arena. Trial. Atypical.”
“Succinctly put,” Mallis said, smiling wryly, “Point them out for me on the map, will you.”
Ran did as he was told. With as few words as humanly possible, he pointed to the legends on the map for one of each type of realm.
“Thank you, Ran. Because Iskar is a dungeon type, we will be focusing on that. You will read up on the other types on your own.” Mallis dismissed Ran, who seemed more than happy to sit quietly and observe. The old instructor’s eyes briefly passed over Ark, but seeing no reaction from either him or Mino, Mallis’ eyes landed on Jenson.
The red-head was smirking in Ran’s direction when he realized that the instructor’s attention was on him, and he straightened immediately.
“Jenson, please brief us on the characteristics of a dungeon, if you would.”
The boy looked about to protest something, then he flushed and cleared his throat instead. “It’s, erhm… an enclosed realm, without the cycle of realmlight from the Inverse. It’s usually composed of tunnels, but… there are also some with rooms.”
“Anything else?” Mallis prompted, his voice full of suggestion.
Jenson swallowed nervously, eyes darting back and forth. In front of him, Ark noted that Rex had turned around in her chair and was mouthing words at him.
“E-Elites!” Jenson blurted, then closed his eyes and got control of himself, continuing in a much more measured tone. “Dungeons usually have a certain expression, or phenotype, that determines what monsters there are in it. Within these monster populations, some evolve to more advanced forms, which we call elites.”
“Excellent. We will look further into the history and exploration of Iskar over the coming weeks, as well as discussing the monsters found there, and what potential elites you may face.” Mallis said, letting Jenson off. The red-head sank back in his seat, shoulder hunched in defeat.
Ark noted that the instructor eyed the vice guild leader, still standing at the back with his arms crossed, before he continued to grill the trainees about the material they had been studying before Ark and Mino got there.
As a silent observer, Ark drank in all the information he could gleam from the interactions between the other trainees. It would be vital to understand their situation, if he wanted any hope of getting along with them, and this lecture was the most valuable opportunity he could have gotten. Eying the vice guild master, standing behind, Ark wondered if this was coincidence, or on purpose.