With how mortal-like the human-worshiped gods are compared to the others, and how it’s part of their churches’ dogma that minor gods are former mortals and chosen, one must wonder at some point, “Does that mean the greater gods were once mortal too?”
I once mentioned such a possibility to an elven theologian, and nearly lost my head for my heretical question, but when I asked a human Northman theologian the same question, I got a very different response.
To quote him, “Perhaps, but maybe you have it backwards? Adamanrion was left for dead by “The First Two”, Apheros praised them for their mercy, and Ignitious looked up to them for guidance. How do we know that the ones we worship are even truly gods?”
---
Travis
Snowsday, the 8th of Eighthmonth
7-8 Breakfast
The downlighting in my bathroom’s mirror was never consistent. Some days the contrasting shadows would show every peak and valley of my physique, replacing the soft contours of my face with sharper features, highlighting every body hair, and overall making me look like someone twelve years older.
Today was not one of those days…
While some Lakelander men can look downright bearish with how hairy they get, I always assumed I wouldn’t be one of them. Dad wasn’t very hairy body wise, unlike Franklin who was often forced to shave their backside before being allowed to enter the house, but dad could grow a very impressive beard every winter.
I sighed while inspecting my lower face, my facial hair was coming in, but it felt like it was taking forever to go from their current baby hairs into proper hog fur. Dad did try to reassure me last winter that his first beard came in late too, but…
“I know today’s a big day, but that doesn’t mean you’ll magically grow one overnight. Besides, don’t a lot of Lakelanders shave during the summer months?”
“Yes, but…” Words failed me as I tried to express my issue. Lancel never had to worry about not being called a man even though he couldn’t grow a beard, why was I so upset? Was it because Jethro, despite being over a year younger than me, gets a midnight shadow over his chin every night?
“You know, I always had a love/hate relationship with my beard. I had to start aggressively shaving once I turned fifteen, which was a lot of fun to brag about, but before I was even legal to drink, my head was already going bald.”
“Oh, from wearing a helmet all day? Or… wait, didn’t you say you weren’t a soldier?”
“What? No, it wasn’t because it was rubbing off, it just fell out naturally.”
Naturally? I don’t think I’ve ever heard of such a thing… unless…
“Umm, not to be rude, but did you have some kind of disease or something?”
“Disease? Oh, umm… right… uh, yeah, I guess it was a disease. Nothing debilitating, just something I inherited from my grandfather.”
Hmm… I’m not sure if I should put that in the “Arc is borderline insane” pile or “Arc is keeping secrets again” pile…
A knock on the bathroom door disturbed my river of thought, “Travis, could you please hurry up, I gotta…”
“Sorry,” I shouted to Drozuk while shoving my stuff into its basket, “be right out.”
---
Arc
8-12 Morning Drill – Live Combat Training
Travis and his team fan out into the simulated forest, the Earth Mages mimicking an old densely packed pine forest today, with spear-like pillars blocking out the sun, and even including a few “fallen logs” and a river into the terrain.
Travis holds up a fist to signal everyone to stop, then holds his hand to the side of his helmet, “Jethro, get above the treetops. Wind Mages, begin scouting.”
Jethro and the other Wind Mages nod to confirm the orders, he then makes a running start at a nearby tree then kicks off it to jump towards another, then another, using his mana reinforced legs to maintain momentum as he “climbs” the trees. He starts to run out of bare trunks as he nears the spear tip tops, but instead of grabbing onto one and climbing up the rest of the way like a sane person, he opts for the video-game strategy, and double-jumps in midair (with a flourishing flip and everything) to reach the top of a tree using his [Air Step] spell.
Travis, meanwhile, joins the other two Wind Mages in casting [Remote Ear] to help find the monster, each picking a different direction and moving their spells as far as possible before maintaining focus becomes too difficult. (The spell works much better when you have direct line of sight, and don’t have to worry about it colliding into things.)
“Contact! 72 yards at 10 o’clock, umm… doesn’t seem to be moving towards us.”
Travis eyes the two Wind Mages next to him, “Keep scouting, it might have friends.” He then speaks over the squad’s Messaging channel, “Jethro, can you identify?”
“It looks like a giant snake, but… floofy?”
Travis strums the tassets protecting his thighs in thought, before it finally clicks, “Constrictor ferret.”
“Yep, Constrictor Ferret, a greater varmint. They generally reach about 10 yards long, are as wide as a standard round shield, and are fully capable of using mana reinforcement, most notably for increasing its speed. They use their tubular body coated in long slick hair to weave through heavily forested areas, then feed by crushing and suffocating its prey by wrapping around it, swallowing it whole. Hunter logs recommend drowning the monster since it can’t swim and has a highly valuable pelt.”
“Too bad we don’t have a lake…” Travis mutters out loud.
One of the Wind Mages overhears him, “Sir, I heard running water at our 2 o’clock, not too far away.”
Travis taps the side of his tassets again, then speaks over the squad’s channel, “Jethro, status update.”
“It’s crawled up a tree, and is sniffing around, doesn’t appear to be ravenous.”
“Perfect, report any changes.” Travis then turns around to address the squad, “We’re setting a trap.”
A few minutes later and the squad was already finalizing preparations. The artificial trees were sabotaged to fall if anything heavy climbed them, the Earth and Water Mages prepared a group [Mud Slide] to drag the monster into the river, and Travis had split off with Bridget and the other Fire Mage to lure in the ugly snake-rat.
Travis draws me from my scabbard and is looking very knightly as he leads his team.
Hmm… maybe I should up the pressure a tad?
“Oh, probably should have said this earlier, but Reidar is here. So… don’t mess up!”
Travis attempts to crush my handle in revenge but manages to keep his cool as they approach the Constrictor Ferret from downwind. He turns to look at Bridget, “Bridget, get its attention.” Then alerts his squad over the Messaging channel that the mission is starting.
Bridget makes a big grin, then starts by summoning three large [Fire Orbs], then converts each Orb into a [Fire Bolt] by splitting her fingers into three groups as her hand clenches into a fist. The trio of spells quickly fly towards the head of the oversized ferret, scoring a succession of amazing hits by hitting an eye, going up a nostril, and even one into its open mouth.
The monster thrashes in pain, foolishly losing its grip, snapping the top off the fake tree it was wrapped around, and making the pillar buckle under the sudden shift in weight. The stone treetop falls first, spinning a few times before landing tip up, and is then soon followed by the trunk and giant varmint as its sudden lack of coordination and stubby legs prevent it from reaching another stone tree. The monster screams as it falls but is quickly silenced when it’s lobotomized by the stone spike thrusting through its lower jaw and into its brain.
Bridget and her witnessing teammates stood there completely dumbfounded by the Rube Goldberg series of events, and given the temporary silence of the arena’s stands, weren’t the only ones. After a few painfully long seconds, and sudden cacophony of laughs and cheers from the stands, Hector calls the match and orders the squad to report for debriefing.
There was, of course, some confusion over the squad’s Messaging channel, but Jethro had a good view of events and was able to explain as they walked inside for medical checks and debriefing. Inside, a familiar looking Spartan Medic gave Travis a quick cognition test after noticing his dazed state, then gave his helmet a tap.
“Brain fog should clear soon.” Reidar then lowered his voice, “My duties here will be concluded at 5pm.”
That snapped Travis out of his funk, “Perfect, classes end at six for me. I’ll Message you. Maybe we can have supper together?”
Reidar nodded, “I’d like that.” He then motioned for Travis to join the others, but suddenly darted his head back towards Travis, “Wait, will you be inviting the Princess?”
Travis chuckled as he gave the spartan a pat on the shoulder, “No promises.”
Reidar glared at the back of Travis’ head, but quickly surrendered with a sigh and shake of his own head before performing checks on the rest of the squad.
Hector and Felicity soon stood before Travis and his squad, giving each other shrugs, then speaking to the group.
“Instead of the usual question, I’ll just summarize.” Hector began, “Your overall plan was smart, setting up a trap, not attacking the monster in its territory, and despite splitting up, you kept a Wind Mage with each group so you could communicate.” He shifted in his armor, giving Sir Felicity a glance to see if she had anything to add.
“It’s impossible to account for every variable, and even the best laid plans can be upturned, with or without the minor god Phymur intervening. Some days everything that can go wrong will go wrong, and some days…” she raised her hand towards the arena, “your Drill Instructors will have to get scolded for letting a valuable training monster get killed.”
---
12-1 Lunch
The cafeteria was a buzz with chatter, [Message] spells flew in the air, and one very talented Apprentice Water Mage was putting on a shadow show for anyone who missed the arena matches this morning. Granted, this wasn’t out of the ordinary, but it wasn’t every day that a first-year student one-shots a greater varmint. Bridget, the lady of the hour, was of course enjoying the attention.
“Yes, I did aim for the face, but I didn’t expect to actually hit the monster.” Bridget repeated for the sixteenth time to the table’s numerous guests today.
Aside from the usual gang, Jakob and Xruul were there, both wanting to get the first-hand account after kicking themselves for not watching the matches today. Cordelia Langhorne (Travis’ halberd-wielding training partner) surprised everyone by asking Travis if she and her boyfriend could join. She was still looking awkward many minutes later, since her boyfriend Arvid had a pen and paper in hand, peppering Bridget with follow-up questions.
“What was your initial reaction upon the creature’s death? Surprise? Satisfaction? Anger?”
Bridget sighed at the school newspaper’s reporter, “I guess surprise? Mostly just disbelief, I used to laugh at Hunters that told of similar happenings on their hunts, and always assumed they were making up stories.”
Cordelia guiltily turned to Travis as the interview continued, “Sorry for disturbing your table, Arvid was… insistent that I help him get an interview.”
Travis grinned, “Oh, it’s alright. I’m just surprised Bridget even agreed.”
Cordelia shrugged, “It’s not considered wise to ignore reporters. Better to get ahead of the story before rumors start to spread.”
Jethro butted in, “Plus, if you ignore the questions or accusations, they’ll just assume that you don’t want to admit the answer.” He smiled, then raised his voice so Bridget and Arvid could hear him, “Isn’t that right Bridget?”
The Ashman girl gave Jethro a cold stare, “What is?”
“That you inherited your guile and ruthlessness from your father.”
Bridget glowered, “Why do you keep insisting that my father is a commando? He works as an accountant, and even joined my mother and I on our caravan routes when able.”
“Yes, as cover so he could sneak out and assassinate the kingdom’s enemies after tucking you into bed at night.”
Bridget rolled her eyes, “You’ve been reading too many spy thrillers.” She then turned to see the bright-eyed look in her interviewer and sighed, gesturing for him to continue.
Travis and the others shared a few chuckles, then turned from Jethro to Cordelia on each of his sides and waved them into whisper, “Hey, since you’re both here, can I ask you two a question about Lakelander noble traditions?”
They both nodded, and Cordelia waved for Travis to continue.
“Thanks. I know it’s traditional for Lakelander farmers to stop shaving after the Fall Harvest Festival, then to shear everything off the first day of planting and leave the hairs near the nesting birds. Is there something similar for your families?”
Jethro scratched his chin, “Depends if you’re directly fighting in the military or not. The general rule is not to go unshaven until you fight in the Spring Flood.” He turned to the inner-ring noble, “I think the meaning behind it is to physically represent the change you go through mentally?”
Cordelia nodded, “It doesn’t have to be the Spring Flood, there’s plenty of inner-ring nobles who’ll start growing beards after a Fall Expedition, it’s just uncommon since usually your first major military operation will be during the Spring Flood.” She narrowed her eyes and moved her head closer to Travis, “Can you even grow a beard?”
Recoiling, Travis snapped back, “Yes, it’s just… taking a while to finish growing in.”
Realizing that she hit a touchy subject with the still developing teen, Cordelia backed away and caught Jethro giving her a wink.
“Don’t worry, I won’t let him look like a clueless hedge knight.”
Cordelia smiled, “Good, see that you do. If Travis intends to court the princess, his appearance will need to be up to royal standards.”
Travis groaned, “Ugh, not you too… shouldn’t you be scaring me off or something?”
She set a hand on the despondent teen, and gave him a serious look, “Travis, my parents strongly urged me to flirt with you. Either to lure you away from the princess and make room for one of my older brothers, or to possibly add you to the Langhorne family.”
Travis looked back in puzzlement, “Wait, you’ve been flirting with me?”
Cordelia grinned, “You haven’t noticed? Perhaps I should hit on you harder tomorrow during sparring practice.”
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Travis, still oblivious, needed my help, “She’s doing a bad job on purpose… I think…”
---
Travis
3-4 Break
Taking a load off, I pulled the quick releases on my backpack, set my poleaxe on the ground, then after a quick mental debate, decided not to bother taking off my armor and opted for lounging on one of the stone chairs resembling the wooden recliners I was used to back home. The surface was hot from the sun beating down on it, but a quick layer of Ice Mana cooled everything down by the time I leaned back to relax.
My groans of contentment must have been overheard by the senior Water Mage in the next chair over, because she put her book down to point up in the air, “Want some shade?”
I looked up over her, seeing a disk of Shadow Mana, then above myself to see the sun still high in the air above me, “Sure, I wouldn’t mind.”
She smiled, then raised a hand to help direct her mana to extend her shade, making the area underneath drop considerably in temperature and brightness. I gave her a thumbs up, then leaned back with my feet up to enjoy my fleeting moment between classes.
“So, I couldn’t help but notice that you haven’t told your friends about today yet…”
“Well… after the whole debacle with the princess, I just wanted a quiet uneventful night.
“I can get behind that. Not everyone likes making a giant show of the event. Heck, I think the only reason Seleyna went through the hassle is because she’s royalty.”
I idly gave Arc’s pommel a scratch, happy that he wasn’t pressuring me today. He got really mad at me last year when I spent the entire day hunting or practicing on my makeshift obstacle course.
“Anything in the mail today?”
Reaching into my backpack for the bundle of letters and flyers I pulled from my mailbox earlier, I started leafing through the pile, “Let’s see… I got a thank you card from Percy and Lucia, they already went to see the show and… of course, enjoyed it. This flyer has a listing of on-campus fall training camps that I could have signed up for. And… ugh, another postcard from the Polearms Club…”
“Let me guess, you’ve got classes during each training seminar again?”
“Hmm… I could go to one next week, but I’d miss supper and my private range time that night.”
“Well, that’s definitely a no go for you then. Anything else?”
“Ooh, a letter from Trent…” Intrigued, I opened it up to read.
Travis,
Just wanted to congratulate you on becoming a ward for Clan Hopkins. Lancel’s a fine soldier, and a good friend, I have no doubt that he’ll take good care of you. (Do be careful though, he’s got a younger sister he’ll want to introduce to you that’s about a couple of years older than you, so don’t go fooling around at the brothels the second you turn eighteen.)
I’ve been up to my eyeballs in contracts since coming to the capital and it doesn’t look like it’ll relent until it’s time to bed down for Solstice. So big apologies, but I won’t be able to stop by the estate to say hello.
Be sure to give Lancel a slap on the rear for me,
Trent, Grade 3 Witchhunter
What the…? Has he been living under a rock? Also, did he not get my last letter at all?
“Umm, Travis, I think you might want to reread that with your mana sight…”
Okay… not sure why that would change anything, but I closed my eyes then amped up the mana in them to take a look…
Travis,
Lost your letter in the fire when my apartment got ambushed. Don’t worry, I’m fine, got saved by an undercover Commando posing as a barmaid before the Witches of Barkmane could finish the job.
She ended up press-ganging me into getting revenge and helping eliminate the rest of Eisaiah's insane cult in the capital, and although we think we got them all, I’d keep my distance from any covensteads if I were you.
I’m getting out of the capital before even more crazy nonsense happens, so if you’re getting cold feet about joining the army, just tell any one of the recruiters when you’re alone with them that you want out. They’ll handle the rest and keep you safe, even book you passage on a ship to a fortress if you want. If you can, request to go to Coldspring Fortress, my covenstead is there, and in case the worst should happen to me, my coven will take care of ya. Just hand them this letter when you meet them.
Trent, Grade 3 Witchhunter
“Whoa… that’s…”
“I know! Right? Assassination attempts, evil cults, hidden messages… ooh, try holding your letter up to the sun.”
Humoring Arc, I lifted up the letter, and… sure enough, he was right. The light piercing through the sheet of parchment had the watermark of a duck standing atop a beaver.
“Whoa, I just saw that! A duck and a beaver right?”
Smiling at Arc’s joy, I reached down to give him a scratch right where his cross-guard meets his handle.
---
6-7 Supper
Finally done with classes for the day, I slid my helmet on as I headed for the cafeteria, then [Messaged] Reidar, “Reidar, do you copy?”
Silence filled my helmet as I walked, leaving me with a prickle of anxiety, “Copy Reidar.”
“Must not have his helmet on. I’ll keep an eye out for him, he already knows where to meet you.”
Nodding along, I tried not to let worry or disappointment creep into my mind. We didn’t get to talk much in between matches this morning, so I was looking forward to catching up to him in person today. Unfortunately, those feelings were hard to stamp down when I caught sight of Adrian and Bridget waiting outside for me.
I waved, “Hey guys, by chance, have you seen Reidar? I haven’t been able to Message him.”
Adrian shook his head, “Haven’t seen him.” He turned to Bridget, “Maybe the others spotted him inside?”
She shrugged her shoulders, “It’s possible, maybe we should just get in line?”
I hesitated but ended up agreeing. Maybe if Varguk was serving I could ask if he’d seen him. We got into line, but there was no sign of either Spartan, and as I moved to sit with my loaded tray of food, I tried one more time to Message Reidar.
“Damn, not getting a response.”
Mattius’ head perked up with a possibility, “Maybe he got called away last minute. He is a medic, maybe he’s stuck doing surgery on someone?”
Adrian nodded along, “Could just be napping somewhere. There were a few major injuries this week, might be exhausted.”
“Or he’s busy flirting with the princess.”
I gave Arc a firm rap with my knuckles, annoyed that he’d tell such an obvious lie, but his next words did give me pause.
“Don’t believe me? Just ask him yourself. 7 o’clock.”
Turning around, I saw the green-striped Spartan approach, looking… a tad off from his usual composed state. I gave him a wave, hoping to catch his attention, but he seemed almost in a dream-like state.
Jethro didn’t seem to notice though, “Reidar! There you are. Come sit, or did you want to grab food first?”
That snapped him out of his daze, “Travis, friends of Travis, I apologize, I have already eaten supper tonight.”
I let out a sigh of relief, “That’s alright, come join us anyways. Just a heads up though, we’re going to break table manners and talk while eating.”
Reidar nodded as he sat down next to me, “I appreciate the forewarning.”
Adrian, who was sitting on Reidar’s other side, gave him a nudge, “Where were you? Travis was getting worried.”
Reidar turned to look at my embarrassed face, showing a few cracks in his stoic veneer, “Right, an explanation for my failure to report is needed. After my duties concluded at five, I came to the cafeteria to order an appetizer from the carryout counter and finish the wait for supper outside on the green space.” He paused to take a breath, and even visibly gulped, “The princess caught sight of me waiting in line and invited me to join her for supper. I then followed proper etiquette, accepting her invitation, and joined her table for supper.”
Oh, rot, Arc wasn’t completely lying.
I held up my hands in mock surrender, “I swear, I had nothing to do with it this time.”
My friend leaked out one of his rare smiles, “Seleyna made the same joke.” His eyes immediately widened, “Correction, I meant to say Princess Seleyna.”
I gave his backplate a pat, “At least you were smart enough not to accidentally decline her invitation.”
He gave his head an inquisitive tilt, creating chuckles at the table, and making me immediately regret saying so.
“I’m guessing you know when Princess Seleyna’s birthday is right?”
“Correct, it was this last Voltsday.”
“Well, this idiot,” I pointed to myself, “didn’t know that, and even doubled down on the stupidity by turning down the invitation to her birthday party.”
Reidar’s face swiftly dropped his neutral expression, shifting to an enraged one for insulting the crown, “You atoned for your arrogant behavior, right?”
Suddenly remembering his first squadmate’s warning not to anger Reidar while wearing woodfiber clothes, I sputtered out my response, “Yes. Yes, I did. I crafted a gift for her and apologized on her birthday.”
The angry Spartan relaxed, then darted his eyes across the table and grew self-conscious, clearing his throat, but not saying anything.
“He seems a bit on edge, and has barely relaxed around your friends, maybe ask him about medical school?”
Giving Arc a scratch with one hand, I gave Reidar a tap on his side, “How’s medical school going?”
“There was some initial difficulty, mainly due to my late enrollment, but my hands-on instruction from Major Medic Amabilis Sartre during the flood proved to be quite valuable.”
Bridget leaned in, “You’re studying to be a field trauma surgeon right?”
Reidar shook his head, “Not a full one, since my job won’t require it. I’ll only be certified to lead medical treatment on mana users when I complete my initial required training. Normal soldiers are… more fragile and require a higher knowledge base to prevent patients from going into shock.”
Bridget chuckled, “That’s the gist of what I’ve been told and read about the topic. How much non-surgery medicine are you learning?”
“Enough to provide general guidance and treatment if the situation is dire. I’ll be expected to direct patients to a specialist or long-term care after I conclude they are no longer in an immediate life-threatening condition.” Reidar relaxed his posture some, and even set his forearms on the table, “If you don’t mind, Travis has been writing to me about his experiences here, but I’m curious about what it’s like for someone specializing in a single or hybrid element.”
That cheered me up, especially as Reidar started to relax even more as my friends took turns sharing their stories. He slowly started becoming more expressive and even smiled when asked what he thought about me carrying my poleaxe everywhere now instead of crafting a wand.
“I don’t understand the question, why would you wish to wield an item that doesn’t function as a weapon into battle?”
That elicited some groans from everyone else, and I gave Reidar a slap on the back, “Thanks for having my back bud.” Noticing that time was flying by, I pulled him in, “By the way, do you know the spell [Earth Cleat]?”
“Yes, why do you ask?”
“Would you be up for a training session in my private spell range?”
---
7-9 Private Study - Spell Range
“Remind me never to piss off a Spartan!”
I grin as Reidar dodges another [Rock Bolt] using his [Earth Cleat] spell, then counters my [Fire Bolt] with a held [Water Blast] in his right hand and knocks away my [Wind Bolt] with his shield.
I’ll admit, I was hesitant earlier when he told me to start casting spells at him, but after seeing him swat away my spells like they were flies, I grew much more confident in his ability.
While launching Bolt spells in as erratic of a pattern as I could to throw him off, I try to watch his feet, seeing if I can glean some insight on how to master [Earth Cleat]. He isn’t using it to leap high, more to slide across the ground, using the repulsion array on his toes to reduce his friction and condensing array on his heels to quickly stop.
I cast another [Rock Bolt], and he angles his shield in front of himself while reinforcing it with an enchantment, then countercharges by shifting to his toes right as my spell hits, obliterating my spell’s formation, greatly reducing the impact.
We keep going for a while, but eventually stop for a water break.
“You make it look so easy.”
Reidar wipes off his mouth after taking a swing from his canteen, then shrugs his shoulders, “My Wood affinity provides instinctual guidance. It doesn’t work with building things out of rocks, but it does help me root or unroot myself from the ground.”
I sigh, “Great, I was hoping you’d be able to help me learn it. I received the spell diagram for it two months ago, but haven’t been able to practice much, or even figure out how to walk around with it yet.”
“I can still assist with that, [Earth Cleat] is a mandatory spell all Spartans must learn. I’ll teach you the movement drills we used to familiarize ourselves with the spell.”
Reidar starts having me copy his movements while using the spell, jumping in place using only our toes, then having me modify my landings by rolling back to my heels in between each hop. Next, he has me switch to using only one foot, then back to using both, only with one foot touching after the other shifts my weight to my heel.
“Excellent, you’re already softening your landings. Let’s try going into a few common combat stances.” He demonstrated leaping back into a shield block stance, then hopped forward, pushing off with his right foot to mimic a spear thrust, then brought his right leg back to its original position while rolling back on his heels back into another shield block.
That was more difficult, but the repetition of the familiar movement from daily morning drills, combined with my previous physical training under Arc before coming to the capital, helped everything finally click into place. I still needed to keep the power low and couldn’t simply walk around casually without concentrating, but apparently that was normal.
“Walking is actually the hardest part to master with this enchantment. It requires long periods of moving while using the spell until it becomes an instinctual habit, otherwise one poor step will throw you off balance.”
I let out an exasperated breath, “So I was going about everything backwards?”
Reidar smiled, and even gave my shoulder a pat, “We all stumble from time to time.”
He’s making jokes now? This day is going great! Too bad my timeslot is almost expired already.
Noticing me checking the timeclock, Reidar turned to look himself, and drooped his shoulders.
Feeling the same, I gave his shoulder a pat, “Random question, can you grow a beard?”
He held up a flat hand, giving it a wiggle, “Not a Lakelander one, despite the brown hair. I think my Northman half is strangling my facial hair’s development, leaving it thin and barely covering more than my jawline. Braxton mentioned that it might continue to grow thicker as I get older though, so I might consider growing one in the future.”
At least he has an excuse…
“Do Spartans have any beard growing traditions? I just found out about the noble ones today.”
“Yes, but we adopted the ones nobles follow. Before the current Queen changed the law, Spartans were required to shave daily if possible.” Reidar grinned, “Some of the older Spartans I’ve talked to mentioned that it was one of the few changes that didn’t receive pushback when our traditions were put under scrutiny by Queen Claudette.”
“Oh, were some of them problematic?”
He nodded, “Thankfully, only a few needed outright changes. For example, going on a solo hunt after your eighteenth birthday was changed to intoxication training.”
Curious, I cocked my head, “What’s that?”
“You gather with your first squad and consume a large amount of alcohol and greasy food. The purpose is to familiarize oneself with having their senses and wits no longer being reliable.”
“Huh, that sounds like one from my village. When someone turned eighteen, they’d gather with their older friends at the Inn to celebrate being of legal age to drink.” I grumbled, “Although, some would use it as an excuse to ride out to the nearby fortress and enjoy a night at one of the more adult establishments there.” I looked back up at the clock, seeing our time was up, and noticed I’d built up an appetite, “Hey, instead of meeting back up with my friends, do you want to go grab a bite to eat?”
Reidar grinned, “I’ll never turn down food.”
---
Arc
9-11 Free time / Group Study
It was oddly hard to watch Travis and Reidar hang out together. One part of me felt happy to see the two introverts finding kinship, another part was envious of Reidar (for what exactly, I’m not sure, I just was), the last sadly was that I couldn’t join their conversations.
Maybe I should encourage Travis to introduce me? No… wait, not tonight. Tonight is Travis’ big night.
With this evening’s shadow show concluded, Travis and Reidar had little trouble getting inside The Exotic Axe and were even directed to the VIP balcony lounge and bar after the bouncer recognized Travis. The two ordered food and drinks, and were soon chatting away the night, only getting disturbed by the place’s owner stopping by.
“Sir Travis, Spartan Reidar, it’s a pleasure to have you here tonight. Has everything been to your liking?”
Travis glanced at Reidar, but after seeing no objection, turned back, “Yes it has. I noticed a big crowd leaving on our way in, is the show still selling out?”
The old man chuckled, “Oh, we’re sold out through the solstice now. Norvin is currently training a group of understudies just so he can have a night off. Plus, he’s been approached by the Holawenys College of Arts to adapt the show into a live-actor musical.”
Travis groaned, but Reidar looked quite excited at the prospect, “How long till that goes into production?”
The owner smiled, “Not sure, the play should be easy enough to adapt, but there’ll be a lot of pressure on making sure the songs are top-notch. I’m sure we’ll get invites to the premiere though, Norvin would be a fool otherwise.”
Reidar looked out at the stage, “You wouldn’t host it here?”
“No, I don’t have the facilities for it backstage.” He made a deep bellied laugh, “It’s actually out of the ordinary for us to have such a popular family-friendly show here.”
Travis became perplexed, “Huh, what do you mean?”
Before the owner could reply, The Exotic Axe announcer’s voice boomed over the noise of the crowd, “Ladies and Gentlemen, Beards and Beardless, performing tonight’s first musical number is Candace, the songstress of Moonwater Fortress!”
Cheers, whistles, and even a few howls, shouted from the crowd towards the stage as a beautiful woman wearing a long fur coat stepped under a spotlight made with Light Mana. String and woodwind instruments began filling the hall with whimsical music, then switched to something jazzier as the brass section joined in, followed by a trio of metal poles extending from the bottom of the stage.
I started mentally laughing my ass off at the shocked expressions on Travis and Reidar, and how both teenagers start to look very uncomfortable.
Looks like it’s called The Exotic Axe for a reason.
The music hit a crescendo, signaling the rowdy crowd to quiet for the sultry voiced singer.
“When the springtime warm air arrives, he will leave my bed and then rise. He will kiss my cheek and then sigh, then greet her with his hungry eye.”
Indistinct shapes made of Shadow Mana began to fill the back curtain, all dancing around a trio of lines meant to imitate the shadows of the poles.
“I’m not jealous of the way he holds her… or the way he grasps her firmly. Nor the way he grunts when thrusting, I’m not one to be mistrusting. I’m not jealous of the way he holds her… how he’ll show her off overtly.”
Laughter and whistles arose from the crowd as three two-handed weapons descended from the ceiling on wires, a waraxe on the left, a spear in the center, and a warhammer on the right. Each one was twisting around the poles, gyrating to the music, and even sliding up and down seductively.
Ok, I guess it’s called The Exotic Axe for a reason…
I pulled my focus back in time to witness Travis and Reidar bent over the table in laughter, getting friendly nudges from the owner, and waving over a waitress to bring the teens a round of shots.
---
After the musical number, and warning from the owner that the evening’s shows will get more risqué as the night progresses, Travis and Reidar stumbled back to campus, both still infected with a bad case of the drunken giggles. They somehow made it to the stables with little problem though, and 5751054 soon came down from his stall to give Reidar a ride back to his barracks.
Reidar pulls Travis into a shield-brother hug, holding it for a long time, and even giving a bonus back pat that Travis returns in kind. His blissful expression fades into a melancholic one, and by the time both separate, he looks almost tearful.
Travis gives Reidar a pat on the shoulder, “What’s wrong?”
The Spartan lets out a sigh, “I think I would have really enjoyed coming to school here with you.”
“It certainly would have been a lot of fun, but…” Travis traces his fingers over the zebra stripes on Reidar’s armor, “wouldn’t you have to get rid of these?”
Reidar nods, “Did I ever tell you that these aren’t just camouflage?” He holds up his left hand to point at the stripes on his right side, “This side’s pattern is my first squad’s identification number and Braxton’s name.” He then points to his left side, “These lines are my personal identification number.” His fingers land above where his heart would be, “These three are my name.”
Travis stares at the stripes for a long moment, then looks back up at Reidar with teary eyes, “You would have had to literally scrub away your identity if you came here.”
Reidar nods again, unable to speak now, but does find the strength to dig into one of his side pouches. He finds what he’s looking for, then with trembling hands, gives a small coin to Travis.
Travis looks down, “What’s this?”
“A copy of my identification number, my squad’s number, and the Spartan crest for the barracks I grew up in. If you ever wish to come visit me at my home, show this to the gate guards.”
Travis eyes the coin a little longer, then puts it in his personal items pouch before giving Reidar a regular hug.
The two get nudges from Travis’ now impatient mount, making them break the hug, and forcing Reidar to climb up. Before he leaves though, Reidar leans forward to whisper to Travis, “I almost forgot, Happy birthday Travis.”