And now let’s add in a fable depicting Hydraviandor.
Shandalar was a sailor, an expert navigator blessed by Hydraviandor.
He’d travel from isle to isle, never straying far from home, and never far from Hydraviandor’s protection.
He had a wife, children, wealth, and comfort, but like the greedy mortal he was, he wanted more.
He’d sail on his boat, always looking past the horizon, always curious, and always asking the goddess, “What else is out there?”
Hydraviandor in her infinite wisdom would then answer, “Nothing but pain, suffering, and death.”
Shandalar would then bow in supplication to the three-eyed goddess, offer his daily prayer, and go about his route, but some days he was slower than others to sail towards the next island.
One day his mortal weakness finally overtook him, and Shandalar, now a foolish sailor, sailed towards the west.
There he found an island, a massive one, so large that he couldn’t even see the entire coast before it sunk under the horizon. It had trees, tall trees, trees so tall that they must be scraping the clouds. He returned home, raving about the trees, assembling a navy, so they could go gather the resource.
What awaited him was pain.
Other elves ambushed him and his crew, pale ones, with metallic hair, and singing praise to a different god, one of the sky. They enslaved them, telling them they were their betters, that their authority was above theirs.
Their god did not approve.
Shandalar returned to his boat, the scars still fresh, but his mind still curious, perhaps next time will be better?
He sailed south, following the massive island, past an endless marsh of trees covered in mist and full of the screams of monsters, then found himself sailing north, finding a forest made of rocks.
It was then that the storm came, thrashing his boat, killing his deckhands, and leaving him and his boat stranded on the coast.
On that coast he was awoken by stout little men, who poked and prodded at him and his ship, speaking fast, and with so few words.
They helped fixed his boat, asked him to return… maybe? He wasn’t too sure, but Shandalar knew that he needed to tell his brethren of this place.
Shandalar offered his prayers to Hydraviandor, the goddess once again speaking to him, “You have found pain, you have found suffering, will you now seek your death?”
Shandalar grew furious with the goddess. Yes, he had found pain, but he had reunited his people with their cousins of the trees and mountains. And yes, he found suffering, having lost many of his life-long friends, but he had found new ones in those strange men that would burrow into the ground and spawn new men.
He set his eyes to the west and challenged the sun to a race.
Shandalar never returned.
---
Travis
Woodsday, the 22nd of Seventhmonth
“Whatcha get? Whatcha get? Whatcha get? Is it a sword stand? I bet it’s a sword stand. It’s definitely a sword stand!”
The aggravated groan emanating from me did little to relieve my tension as I set the package down on my bed. I then reached to unclip Arc from my belt, his completely inert form the complete opposite of his puppy-like excitement.
“Are you gonna open it? Hurry up! I wanna see. I wanna see.”
“Arc! Would you please calm down?”
“Sorry… I’ll be quiet…”
I started with the unmarked envelope attached to the package with the secure shipment label on it and opened it.
Travis,
I’ve taken the liberty of organizing the town’s letters to you for your convenience, and am taking a few measures to ensure they arrive without incident to you in a timely matter from now on.
I apologize for the long delay, but I wanted to wait for the giant ruckus to calm down before sending this care package. I hope its contents aid you in your journey.
As for news from Aelder Creek, things have begun to finally calm down. The Inquisitors from the church managed to convince the town that what happened under the Aelder Tree during the attack was a natural phenomenon, and not a miracle. It did take until the summer solstice festival for most of the townspeople’s stress to finally evaporate, though a few things have permanently changed now.
Issac is now attending church on Woodsday with his wife Mildred. It may be out of guilt, however. After you left, he came to me and confessed to helping you hide what your poleaxe’s shaft was made with. He was a nervous wreck after the attack on the village and couldn’t handle the stress. He’s calmed down considerably now, and hasn’t told anyone else, so I humbly ask that you show mercy on him.
A new family has moved in, a former soldier and his schoolteacher wife (Judith is over the moons with glee). They have three children, a ten-year-old boy, and two daughters ages seven and five. They provided a nice uplift for the town, especially after the new residents got to show off their fancy new farming equipment that they bought in the capital’s farm show.
Ingrid and Ryan have started pre-marriage counseling, and although I personally think they are rushing things, it seems some of your habits have rubbed off on your friends. In an unrelated matter, Franklin has been seeking counsel with me on the regular and asking about the “ethics” of preventing a marriage.
I’ll continue to organize a regular secure shipment to you, should you wish, and will keep you updated on the happenings of the town. So, feel free to ask about anything, no matter how minor.
Father Viburnum
Ah, that’s nice of him. I’ll have to send Issac a letter to apologize, and maybe include a gift for causing him so much stress. He always mentioned how out of place he felt sometimes, not just because of his appearance, but because he worshiped Ignitious. I remember him once getting very upset one winter when he couldn’t get any incense for his weekly prayers before the travel ban started. Hmm… I should check with Bridget… maybe something Ashman related would cheer him up.
I opened the wrapped package, inside was a small stack of letters, and a bundle of wood…?
“Umm, did he send you a bunch of scrap wood?”
It certainly looked like it, but upon closer inspection, I noticed a familiar pattern of faint green lines embedded with the grain of the wood.
“Whoa! This is all aelderwood.”
“You… should probably get a lockbox… especially now that we know how valuable that stuff is.”
I nodded along, then began to read the other letters, starting with one from dad.
…Ryan, of course, showed up bright and early to ask Franklin if he could apprentice, completely unaware that the big log was hungover…
…Now that Connor is up and about, I’ve been helping out the new family get settled, and seeing them every day has made me start missing you terribly again. I wish we could have had a long talk before you left, especially since it’s finally sunk in now that you won’t be coming back.
I’m still undecided on wintering in the capital. The new family has agreed to milk and tend to the cows, but I can’t help but worry that I’ll be nothing more than a burden for Lancel’s family. I’ll make up my mind soon though, there’s some news I’m waiting on first before I’ll commit to coming. So, try to be patient with this old man.
I sat down on the bed and leaned up against the wall while I let out a deep sigh. Maybe mom’s will be better…
… I’m still waiting on confirmation from one of my old friends to see if they’ll allow me to winter with them, and not take advantage of the Hopkins family’s hospitality. Once that is settled, I’ll have a talk with your father, and we’ll see…
I looked up at the remaining stack of letters, decided I was no longer in the mood, and set them on the desk with my bundle of wood.
“Do you want to talk?”
“Not really…”
“Well, it sounds like the sticking point is staying with the Hopkins for the entire four-month travel ban. Maybe we can secure a couple of apartments for your parents?”
Reaching over to give Arc a scratch, I felt some of the tension fade, “Good idea. Was there anything in my paperwork about winter housing for family? I can’t be the only non-noble that’s needed a place for their parents to stay.”
“Checking… Nothing in my memories, but there was an issue with your paperwork, so it’s possible that you might be missing something. Maybe ask your Civics teacher?”
---
Rainsday, the 23rd of Seventhmonth
1-3 Mage Civics 1
“Yes, as a mage, you do have access to the winter housing available to commoner-born knights. I’ll admit it’s not very luxurious, the buildings are all Northman style lodges, so the bedrooms are practically closets with mattresses thrown over storage trunks. But from what I’ve heard, the food is quite good, the common areas are quite comfortable, and there’s plenty of entertainment since they’re located close to the market districts.”
Professor Lambertsen gave me an inquisitive glance, “I’m surprised you’d need to inquire though. I’d assume you’d have dozens of families clamoring to host your parents.”
Now it was my turn to tilt my head in question, “Why would they?”
My Northman professor sighed, “Right, I somehow forgot you are the son of a farmer. A common recruiting strategy for established noble families is to invite the families of first-generation Knights and Mages to winter at their estates.” He shook his head, “That’s part of why the public housing for wintering families is kept barebones. Guilt can be an effective tool on young adults to make them do something they’d normally be hesitant to do, especially when it comes to family.”
“Oh, that’s… not very ‘noble’ of them.”
Arc, unfortunately, was missing the forest for the trees. How do I know the Hopkins weren’t doing the same to me?
A hand rested on my shoulder, and I looked up at my concerned professor, “Travis, is there something bothering you?”
I lowered my head with a sigh, “I guess… I have an invitation from the Hopkins Clan to have my parents winter with them, but my parents have been hesitant, and I think I am now too. Which… is now making me feel guilty for even thinking their clan would do something that awful.”
He nodded along, and let out his own sigh, “I’m probably just being pessimistic and overselling the maliciousness. I’ve had too many clients break down into tears at my law firm after I isolated them to confirm their wishes, and have even seen the reverse where their parents will force them into a marriage or wardship for personal gain.”
He gave my shoulder-pad a pat and smiled, “There’s nothing stopping you from asking your family to act as a set of eyes and ears to determine if you even wish to join the noble house in question. If they are acting in bad faith, it’ll be difficult to keep up the ruse for four months straight while trapped inside underneath six feet of snow.”
I let out a sigh of relief. Maybe my tense interaction with Seleyna the other day after she subtly threatened to kill me if I shared state secrets invoked a bit of paranoia.
“If you’re amicable to some advice, I suggest that you have your parents stay at the public housing but visit the Hopkins estate for short periods.”
“That’s a good idea. Your parents will have somewhere else to go, and that lodge will be full of other parents in a similar situation as them.”
I nodded along, and gave Arc a scratch, “Thanks for the advice.”
---
4-6 Water Spells 1 – Classroom Component
A dark figure wreathed in shadows glided up and down the stairs of the auditorium while we attempted to solve the fluid dynamics problem posted on the chalkboard. The problem was meant to simulate a common one that would plague a Water Mage during the flood, and our task was to determine how to correct the flow of a heavily obstructed sewage line before total blockage occurred. It was a fun puzzle to solve, since I had to figure out which sewage lines could be restricted without creating new problems, then create enough pressure in the obstructed line to clear the blockage.
“I don’t know how you can solve those problems so quickly without a calculator or sword-brain to assist.”
I shrugged, not thinking it was that strange, Dad used to do something similar whenever he was fixing the neighbor’s irrigation systems, always saying it was smarter to make the system clean itself than constantly snaking lines. A dark shadow passed over me, making my neck hairs stand on end.
“Travis,” the deep scratchy voice of Professor Aumrauth echoed, “one of my assistants informed me of your pursuit of knowledge in combat-related Water Enchantments.”
“Umm… yes. I was told that most aren’t available or usable till second year though.”
The hooded figure coated in blackness nodded, “Correct. However, as with most things, there are exceptions.”
He tilted his head towards my desk where a small dome of Shadow Mana was forming. A flick of his hand a moment later, and the Shadow mana dispersed, leaving behind an innocuous looking spell diagram folder that wasn’t there earlier.
“[Water Bracer] - This spell is a derivative of the [Water Gauntlet] spell. It lacks the explosive damage component, but is simpler to cast, and does not require as large of an investment of mana. Show caution when using it however, as it does not absorb blows, but will deflect minor ones.”
I reached to pick up the folder but startled when I turned back to thank my professor and found him missing.
“How does he do that?”
“Oh, it’s just simple misdirection. He had one of his teacher assistants set the diagram on your desk while your attention was on him, then ducked behind the back row of desks when you went to pick up your folder.”
I let out a groan, “Why not just hand it to me like a normal person?”
“Oh, c’mon! Where’s the mystique in that?”
---
Snowsday, the 24th of Seventhmonth
I wonder if I can convince Adrian to help me get showered after this…
“Sewerducks, a dual-element varmint, I’m gonna be honest… there’s not much in the hunter logs you read. Mainly just let the local guards take care of them, since they rarely grow bigger than a housecat, and are worthless parts-wise. I think they’re considered one of the more notorious menaces that plague island fortresses though, since they’ll use their control over Water and Earth to swim up sewage lines and contaminate freshwater storage tanks.”
“You forgot to mention they smell like an upturned outhouse.”
“Hate to break it to you, but I listened in on a group of Hunters make a list of the ‘Top 12 Worst Smelling Monsters’ and these guys only got an honorable mention.”
I sighed, happy that I at least didn’t throw up like a few of my teammates did while we trudged through the simulated sewer line. On the bright side, I had plenty of practice hitting ducks with my spells.
---
Arc
Voltsday, the 26th of Seventhmonth
4-6 Wind Spells 1 – Spell Range Component
Professor Quinsandoral stared judgmentally at the poleaxe on Travis’ back while the teen was busy casting [Wind Bolt]’s, then gestured to Mattius to join him behind a sound-blocking wall of mana.
“Young Master Tatian, it is of great relief to me that you chose a less… flamboyant training aid.”
Mattius leaked out a giant grin while the two watched Travis, “At least he has the decency not to literally wave it around in everyone’s faces.”
The High Elf sighed, “True, it could be worse…”
The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Mattius turned his head to witness the professor’s lamentation, “Something bothering you?”
Quinsandoral waved off the Packer, “Nothing that would affect you, I’ve already taken measures to correct his behavior.” The elf pointed their head at Mattius’ shoulder, “I see you’ve decided to continue Wind magic past his class.”
Mattius looked down at his wand, “I’ll admit, the thought of missing out on getting a full twelve-note scale for practicing Wind spells gave me the final push to declare a second major. I’m just glad I was able to complete the paperwork in time before supplies were handed out.”
The professor nodded, then turned to watch Travis, “I’m glad you did. I’ll need your assistance in a future project I wish to conduct. Have the Dust Mages’ Guild reached out to you yet?”
“No, who are they?”
The professor lowered the sound barrier, “Better if they explain. Expect an invitation from them soon.” He then stepped towards Travis, “Travis, you’re hitting the targets incorrectly. You’re supposed to hit the edges of the ones with inverted colors. Targeting the center of mass will only have a minimal effect on armored or heavier monsters, you’ll want to target the legs, wings, or sensory organs instead.”
---
Travis
Burnsday, the 27th of Seventhmonth
I carefully grabbed my overloaded tray of food from, umm… umm…
“Varguk.”
Right, Varguk, Reidar’s half-orc squad-brother. Then turned to see Bridget eyeing me up and down.
“Are you really about to walk up to the princess’ table carrying that thing?”
I looked down at my tray, “What’s wrong with tater-tot hotdish?”
“The fact that you picked it over the pan seared duck served with cranberry glazed vegetables.” She sighed, “But what I was referring to is your poleaxe. Why are you even carrying that around today? Guided practice for Fire spells in the spell range is tomorrow.”
I groaned, “It’s so I don’t have to walk all the way to the armory before going to the spell range. Plus, I need to get used to wearing my armor all day. Fall Expedition is only a month away now.”
Bridget shook her head, then stopped walking once she realized we were approaching the Princess’ table.
“You are welcome to join us…”
She narrowed her large eyes at me, “I’ll pass.”
Shrugging my shoulders, I walked up to Sir Asher and his stern gaze, “I assume it’d be improper to sit at the Princess’ table with a polearm on my back?”
Asher deadpanned back to me, “Yes.”
I gulped, then turned around, “Could you? My hands are full.”
A groan was heard, but the Royal Knight did take my poleaxe, and I quickly moved before he got any ideas with my back turned. Seleyna and the rest of the table had a good view of my interaction and were laughing hard before I could even sit down.
The rest of the hour went by relatively quickly. Arc, like usual, couldn’t help out due to Asher and the hidden Commandos using their mana sight, but I think I’m starting to get used to the different clique. I only wish I had more to contribute to the conversations, the only thing I really had in common with most of them were classes, but they tended not to discuss schoolwork.
“Sorry for making you hold this.” I apologized to Asher as I mounted my poleaxe on my back.
The Royal Knight massaged his temples with his now free hand while letting out a sigh, “No, it’s alright. You’ve made your message quite clear.”
I raised an eyebrow at his statement, and was about to ask that he clarify, but Seleyna’s voice caused me to spin around.
“Travis, I forgot to mention to you that I’ll be having a party on Snowsday here on campus. Nothing extravagant, and no need to worry about formal attire.” She paused to give me a big grin, “Though, I wouldn’t recommend bringing your poleaxe.”
“Umm, sorry, I… can’t attend.” I awkwardly scratched the back of my neck, “I’ll be attending a wedding that night.”
Seleyna reacted with a flummoxed expression, making me instantly aware that I must have done something wrong, and leaving me paralyzed as she spoke, “Oh, umm… never mind then.”
Not needing to turn around to feel Asher’s icy glare run down my spine, I gave a quick nod to the princess then hurried off before I did something even more stupid. Once clear of the cafeteria, I gave Arc’s pommel a scratch.
“So… how deep am I in it?”
“Sir Asher did call you an arrogant little beaver once you got out of earshot.”
I groaned, “I didn’t even register that I turned down an invitation from the Princess until I saw her reaction.” My feet continued to trudge along towards the spell range, “I take it Seleyna is angry?”
“Actually, I’d say the opposite. Seleyna started giggling after hearing Asher cuss at you, and was overall more surprised than insulted. To quote her, ‘It’s not every day someone says no to me.’”
Well, hopefully it was only a minor insult…
---
Steelsday, the 28th of Seventhmonth
Ok, Arc is just showing off now…
He set up our private spell range with numerous stone pillars and walls then began blasting loud orchestral music filled with exotic instruments. It didn’t take long for the battle lust to surge in my veins, and upon seeing today’s target, I was ready to meet his challenge.
The skeletal creature made of Light and Shadow glided out from behind one of the walls, undulating in the air with its segmented serpentine body and oversized skull. Its visage mimicked a Skull Dragon, with a nose resembling a battering ram, a tiny well protected lower jaw set far back, a set of slightly protruding twin eyes on each side, a pair of forward-facing horns to protect said eyes, and catfish-like tendrils that swayed behind it like waterweed.
The rest of its body was segmented, only connected by thin strands of Shadow and Light, and composed of an alternating set of polyhedrons with some having small wings or legs attached.
I cautiously began launching a single [Wind Bolt] at the phantom creature, amping my gathered mana till it synced with the lowest frequency on my poleaxe’s mana scale, and hitting one of the segments with tiny legs. Like the other targets Arc created, the section burst into a tiny explosion, but instead of the monster dispersing, the gap closed, and the creature began to move faster.
Ok, seems straight forward…
I launched a few more [Wind Bolt]’s at the false dragon but ended up cursing when one of my bolts missed and another flew through a winged section without creating an explosion. Arc made a familiar noise of a laughing dog and summoned an Orb of Light with orbiting motes of Shadow Mana. The dragon then swooped in with its unhinged jaw and swallowed the mana, regrowing its missing section.
Ok, maybe not so straight forward… and… another Orb is already forming… looks like I’m on a timer too…
The solution ended up being [Wind Bolt] for the body segments with legs, [Earth Bolt] on the skull to interrupt it from swallowing another Orb to heal itself, [Fire Bolt] on the segments with wings, and [Water Bolt] for the bare segments. It… took an embarrassingly long time to conclude that I needed to use all four elements, and to be honest, my aim still needed improvement. By the time I dealt the finishing blow to the “boss monster”, my internal mana had amped up to the point that I was already using the highest pitch frequencies on my mana scales.
“Nice work bud! I didn’t push you too hard, did I?”
I gave my limbs a good stretch to keep myself limber and help stave off the Stage 2 Mana Sickness, “No, I’m good, just a little stiff. It actually feels kinda good, like that soreness you get the day after weightlifting.”
“That’s a relief. I was increasing the difficulty every once in a while, to keep you on your toes, but eased off once you started using the top notes of your scales.”
I grinned as I kept stretching, my shoulders felt especially tight beneath my arming jacket, and decided to leave early after Arc finished cleaning up the range. It was oddly quiet in the hall today, so when Arc whispered to me, my blood immediately ran cold.
“Travis, stop walking. Unsheathe me, right now.”
Arc’s tone was gravely serious, so I did as instructed. And just in time too, because a moaning student stumbled out of their range looking glossy-eyed and breathing heavily. They twisted their head sharply, looking straight at me, before suddenly breaking out in a sprint directly at me.
I held up Arc with trembling hands, scared shitless, and was preparing to counter the charge when a wall of Earth erupted from the ground between us. It was soon joined by three more, boxing in the student as they began scratching at the walls and snarling like a feral animal.
My lungs were hyperventilating as the range master calmly approached, tossing something into the prison, then walking towards me with both hands raised.
“Easy now… it’s alright… can you tell me your name?”
It took a moment for me to remember the steps for identifying if someone was suffering from Stage 3 Mana Sickness, and realize that the range master was checking to see if I was suffering it too.
I let out a deep breath, “Travis, I’m going to put my sword away.”
The range master gave a nod of approval, then approached my still trembling body after I put Arc back in his sheath, and offered me a wrapped candy from their pouch, “Here, this has a mild tranquilizer in it, should help you calm down.”
I grabbed the candy and popped it into my mouth, “Thanks… that was… scary.”
The range master nodded, “Always is.” They held up a hand to create a stone bench, “Take it easy for now, I already called in the guards.” A deep thud was heard inside the cage, making it go quiet, “Ah, sounds like they ate the knockout ration.” They moved to join me on the bench, and gave my shoulder a pat before handing me a puzzle box, “You were smart to Message me, you could have gotten hurt or worse.”
I let out another deep breath, feeling the candy do its job, then gave Arc my best scratch in his favorite spot, before focusing on the puzzle in my hands.
---
Arc
Rocksday, the 29th of Seventhmonth
I hovered my focus over Travis as he laid down in the grass during his break, oddly not the only student who opted to bare their chest and get some sun.
“You feeling ok after what happened?”
Travis bobbed his head around before responding, “I guess I am? Don’t get me wrong, I was terrified, but the thought of it happening again isn’t causing me to panic. If anything, I think I feel more confident now… does that make sense?”
“Yeah, I think I know what you mean. My workplace had…” Shit, are fire extinguishers a thing here? Ugh, I’ll just go with it, “a fire extinguisher for putting out fires, and we had training every year on how to use it, but one year during one of our worker’s birthday celebration, the candles on the cake caught the decorations on fire, and to my surprise, I managed to calmly grab the fire extinguisher and put out the fire without panicking. Ever since then, I was always relieved to know that I’d be able to keep my mind clear in case it happened again.”
Travis nodded along, but stopped to give me a curious stare, “Why did you have candles on the cake?”
Seriously, that’s the part I screw up? This whole not telling Travis I’m from a completely different universe is harder that I thought it would be.
---
Bridget slammed Travis against the wall in the private spell range, using her mana reinforcement to hold the terrified teen up by his throat as she screamed at him, “You did what?”
Fighting back the urge to start laughing in Travis’ ear, I watched as he struggled to gasp out his excuse, “I… forgot… she was… a princess. Didn’t… think… it was… too big… an insult…”
Adrian and Drozuk, not showing any sign of stopping Bridget from choking Travis to death, seemed more interested in why Jethro and Mattius were massaging the sides of their heads in exasperation.
“It didn’t sound like she even directly invited him,” Adrian questioned the noble-born, “no written or verbal invitation of any kind. So, shouldn’t that just be a minor insult? At worst, the only punishment having his invitation at her table revoked until he makes amends?”
Jethro sighed, “Normally yes, Princess Seleyna did choose her words carefully so that Travis could decline without showing insult,” he raised his volume so even Travis could hear him, “but when a princess asks for you to come to their eighteenth birthday party, you drop everything and attend it.”
Oh, crap. Uh, yeah, that’s not good.
Bridget finally let go of Travis, “Here’s what you are going to do. You are going to go to your wedding, just like you planned, but…” she held up a finger and poked him right in the chest, “you are going to apologize by giving her a gift on Voltsday.”
“Why Voltsday?”
Bridget began fuming so hotly that I could easily imagine the sand turning to glass underneath her, “Because the 2nd of Eighthmonth is Princess Seleyna’s birthday.”
Drozuk moseyed up next to Mattius, “Am I supposed to know the Princess’ birthday?”
Mattius nodded, “It’s highly frowned upon to be a single noble, and not send a birthday card to the Queen or her unmarried daughters on their birthdays and major holidays.”
Drozuk nodded, “Think you can help me make a card later?”
Mattius nodded.
Adrian whispered to Jethro, “Could you help me with mine?”
Jethro smiled, and patted him on the back, “Of course, I wouldn’t be a good wingman otherwise.”
The three boys looked at Jethro confused, while Bridget disciplined Travis on what to get the princess.
---
Travis
Woodsday, the 30th of Seventhmonth
Jethro kept fiddling with my outfit, smoothing folds, tugging my undershirt into the correct spot, and even making me move my limbs into awkward positions.
“And you’re sure you like the colors? We can still change a few things.”
I grinned, almost tempted to say I didn’t, but after checking myself in the trifold mirror, I was far too satisfied to pull a prank.
Jethro chose an overall militaristic style, using bold solid colors and simple lines. The outfit consisted of a Lakelander navy-blue double-breasted jacket with forest green trim and gold buttons, matching blue fitted pants, a cream-colored undershirt, and a dark leather belt to match my handmade boots.
I spun around to give Mattius and Drozuk a better look, “What do you guys think?”
Mattius scratched the back of his head, “Umm, it looks nice… won’t you get hot wearing that though?”
A growl escaped from Jethro, “It’s made from linen, he’ll be fine.” He turned to look directly at me, “Don’t ever take fashion advice from a Packer, it took an order from the crown to get their soldiers and Spartans to wear pants, and they’re practically nudists when out of uniform down south.”
Mattius was quick on the defense, “Clearly, you’ve never studied abroad down in the Southern Plains. Otherwise, you’d know the painful discomfort of having everything chafe from all of the heat and humidity. Trust me, that extra air flow is a blessing from Torbolt.”
Drozuk grunted out a laugh, “And you’ve obviously never had to worry about fish or mosquitoes trying to crawl up your legs to get to your privates.”
I chuckled at the two’s banter, then turned to Jethro, “It looks great! I think you’ve outdone yourself.”
Jethro smiled, “Thanks.” He then cleared his throat, “Umm, any thoughts on the emblem… I can remove it if you don’t like, my cross-stitch isn’t that great, so I can take it out.”
Curious as to how I missed it, I twisted my left shoulder towards the mirror, and found out why. It was similar to the Three Kingdoms symbol (a round shield atop a spear, axe and hammer), but instead of a trio of weapons, my poleaxe’s likeness was stitched into the fabric, and instead of a shield, there was a rainbow-colored ring around the middle of the handle.
Jethro was babbling as I inspected the emblem, “So, I was adding my house’s crest to one of my jackets, when I realized what was missing on your outfit, but didn’t know if you wanted me to add the Hopkins’ crest or maybe just the military’s, but then I got to thinking, ‘what would Travis use as a crest if he decided to start his own family?’ and I uh, figured you’d display your poleaxe, since, you know, that’s the first thing people see when they look at you nowadays, but that looked kinda dull all by itself, so I added the mana color wheel to highlight your status as an Elementalist Mage, and uh…”
I set my hand on Jethro’s shoulder to calm him down with one of my pats, “I like it, in fact, if I do end up creating my own house, I’ll probably use your design.”
My friend let out a giant sigh of relief, then began to help me get undressed so I could put my school uniform back on. Mattius and Drozuk stepped up to see the emblem, each giving nods of approval, and an extra grunt from Drozuk.
“You should stop by the registrar’s office to reserve this,” he pointed at the emblem, “that way you won’t have to worry about someone else snagging your design.”
“Huh, didn’t know you could do that.” Mattius paused in thought, then cocked his head at the orc, “Wait, why do you know that? Family crests are only required for families that build estates.”
Jethro started eyeing Drozuk as well, “Yeah, what happened to Young Master I Don’t Give Two Shits About Becoming a Noble?”
I grinned at the suddenly bashful orc turning grey, and reached for my pants, only to notice that the stitching in the crotch must have torn loose at some point. Rot, that’s the third pair now. Sliding them on, and grateful that my arming jacket covered most of my upper legs, I put on my boots while Drozuk tried to explain himself.
“Well… after I got thoroughly humiliated…” his voiced cracked, “and was ignored by everyone for a whole week… I uh… decided to stop trying to pointlessly swim against the current as it pushes me somewhere I don’t want to go, and instead swim with it, so I at least have some say in where I end up.”
Mattius gave Drozuk a pat on the shoulder, “I’ve been that fish. It can be real depressing knowing that your life has already been preset, and that struggling against it will just harm you and those around you.”
Drozuk pulled away in surprise, “What! That’s not what I meant at all. I mean, look at Travis,” the guys all turned to face me right as I was struggling to get my undershirt on (whoever said woodfiber doesn’t shrink in the wash was a liar), “I’m sure he had countless people tell him he couldn’t become a mage,” I nodded my head to agree and let Drozuk continue, “but he still found a way to become one without having anyone teach him.”
Feeling uneasy about the praise, especially since it was untrue, I turned away from the group and reached to put my arming jacket on.
Mattius sounded confused, “Wait, but… you were just saying not to fight the river.”
The orc grunted, “No, what I was trying to say was that you have to work with what you got. You only have so much energy, and if your current plan isn’t working, then you need to find a different one. Running off before graduation to teach a coven of witches will just get me killed by Bridget’s dad, but… if I instead become a good little mage, I might be able to petition for legislation that would provide a basic preparatory education in magic. Travis is that one fish that somehow found that narrow path between the jagged rocks and managed to swim upriver, imagine how many more could follow if the rapids were calmed down.”
I finished buttoning my arming jacket and was finding it hard to reach around my back to grab my belt. Maybe I was just tense from the conversation? I should try to redirect it back to the earlier topic.
“Wait, can we back up a sec to the part about family crests? When did you learn about reserving designs? I don’t remember hearing about it during class.”
Drozuk let out an annoyed grunt, “I asked about them after class one day, then tried to reserve one the next day.” A pig-like snort shot out of his nostrils, “Apparently, there’s already a few families that use a fist enveloped in Water for their design. So, now I have no clue what to use.”
Chuckles filled the room, and Jethro bobbed his head around in thought before something sparked in his mind, “Hang on, there’s not that many orkish noble families, maybe you can use a fist or hand. Just make sure it looks visibly orkish.”
Drozuk looked down at his hand, slowly making it into a fist and releasing it, then summoning some Water around it before suddenly stopping with his hand partially closed, “Got it! Just need someone to sketch this.” He held up his hand to the room.
The three of us traded glances, none of us confident that we could draw a hand, but luckily Arc provided a solution.
“How about you ask Caldia to design the crest?”
I gave Arc a scratch as I clipped him to my belt, “I’ve got a friend who’s a good artist, I’ll ask her to stop by sometime.”
Drozuk smiled, “Thanks bud.”
I smiled back, then tried to roll my stiff shoulders, but was having troubles with how tight my arming jacket was feeling at the moment. Jethro noticed my struggle though, and suddenly approached me to start tugging on my uniform.
“Travis, when was the last time you got your uniform tailored?”
“Umm, before I started classes.”
My fellow Lakelander glared at me, “Are you swamp-headed? You’ve put on at least a full stone’s worth of weight (16 pounds) since we started this semester. Go schedule an appointment with the Supply Corps.”
Cowering in fear, I nodded my head in apology until Jethro turned to look at the snickering orc and Packer, “Don’t think for a second you two are getting off so easy. Once we get our finals schedule, we’re going shopping. I’ll not allow my friends to look like vagrants.”
Mattius didn’t object, and even chuckled along, “Honestly, I wouldn’t mind the help.” He looked around at the group, “That sounds fun actually, we can make it a guys night out.”
Drozuk nodded, “We should invite Adrian, I feel like we hardly see him anymore.”
I looked around, only now registering that he wasn’t present, “Hang on, he doesn’t have classes right now, how come he’s not here?”
Jethro grinned, “Oh, he’s too busy spending every free moment with our other missing squad member.”
Huh? What is he…? I gave Arc a scratch.
“Travis… Adrian and Bridget are dating…”
What the…? When did that happen?
---
Rainsday, the 31st of Seventhmonth
The beardless dwarf at the supply depot shook their head at me, “You, young man, should have been in weeks ago!” They directed me over to a fitting station, “Hurry up now, I’ll have to issue you an entirely new set of clothes.”
I quickly undressed, then stood on the lift platform so I could get measured. The beardless gave my boxer-briefs a discerning look, then gave them a tug right above my butt, “I’ll get you some new underpants too. Will you be going on a Fall Expedition?” I nodded my head, letting the dwarf measure every inch of my body, “Right, I’ll get you a few things to hold you over for now, and I’ll include some tear-away stitching on the clothes I’ll drop off for you tomorrow so you can let out your seams easier when you’re out in the field.”
The entire visit was embarrassing, especially once I got my new arming jacket and was told to swing my arms around. I really should have noticed my clothes were getting too tight. Actually, now that I think about it, I’m surprised Arc didn’t say anything…
My musings were interrupted when I was getting my half-plate checked and the Quartermaster walked in, looking peeved for some reason, and stopped to set a hand on my helmet sitting on the shelf.
“So… I heard a rumor that someone went and got their weapon inscribed without clearing it with me first…”
My spine went ramrod straight, and the beardless checking my armor began to back away and out of the room, leaving me to fend for myself, “Umm… Sir, I… only attached a few mana scales to my poleaxe. I didn’t inscribe the weapon itself.”
The bearded narrowed their eyes at me, then palmed my helmet with their hand as they approached my poleaxe, “Hmm, I see you are technically correct.” They tapped one of the wooden scales with their free hand, “That’s a fancy looking magnetism inscription though, I don’t remember issuing you that, perhaps my memory is failing me?”
Gulping hard, and trying to stop myself from shaking uncontrollably, I tried to explain myself, “Yes, that’s new. The old one I had didn’t fit after the upgrade, and I was going to ask you for a new one—”
“Oh, so the one I gave you wasn’t good enough? And here was me thinking I was doing your commoner-born self a favor and providing you a frugal option made by a novice.”
“No, it worked great! I… umm, well… when I was working on the last two attachments, the apprentice artificer who was overseeing my work decided to recycle the dust from the one you gave me and added in some that they had on hand to create a new inscription.” I must have been sweating buckets at this point, “I’ve been doing them a favor, so they did the labor free of charge. I just need to recompense the mana dust once I earn some during the Fall Expedition or Spring Flood.”
The quartermaster grunted while inspecting my poleaxe extensively, then spoke through gritted teeth, “Well, I don’t see any flaws… I’ll have to give the apprentice my praise… what did you say their name was?”
Trembling, I debated on whether I should lie or obfuscate, but decided that would be a bad idea, “Umm, Durinn Forgewarden.”
“WardenForge.”
“Sorry, uh, I meant Wardenforge.”
The Quartermaster nodded, then began to walk out, “Well, everything seems to be in order then…”
“Travis! They have your helmet!”
“Sir!” The Quartermaster turned, “You have my helmet.”
They looked down at their hand and began to darkly chuckle, “Oh, would you look at that, how thoughtless of me.” They walked back to the shelf to set it back down and gave it a pat while speaking right at it, “Would be a shame if you were to lose your helmet.” Another dark chuckle emanated from the dwarf as they walked out, leaving the only remaining noise in the room my beating heart.
I wonder if I can get another candy from the range master?