It was late at night when the carriage finally pulled in through the gates of Kuna and water was still falling. It sloughed down the outer walls like a second skin. Once they were inside, as if copying the water, the carriage guards peeled away to do their own thing, having only been hired for the escort mission itself.

After that it was only a short ride along surprisingly puddle-free streets to the inn they’d be staying in for the night.

Upon stepping out of the carriage Bronson could see why the streets weren’t waterlogged. Along the sides of the street there were small grates that took away the exess water, the cobbles meaning that the water didn’t have to flow over the surface.

Bronson looked up to the sky. With the clouds it was impossible to see the stars and he closed his eyes agains the rain. It was warm and stole away a little of the weariness that seemed to cling to his bones even through the brooch.

“Come on Bronson we haven’t got all night.”

Bronson hurried to catch up with Tyrus, who quickly paid the innkeeper for a pair of rooms and turned in for the night. Part of Bronson wanted to go out and explore the new city but he could feel a building pressure in his chest and he wanted to remove the brooch before it built to its peak.

He quickly undressed, a task made surprisingly difficult by his antlers and tucked himself into bed. He pulled the brooch away from his chest cutting the flow and his arms crashed back down. He manoeuvred them into a comfortable position and shut his eyes.

He momentarily revelled in the novelty of wearing shoes again, but sleep quickly claimed him.

– – – – –

By morning the rains still hadn’t abated which made for a less than stellar trip to the university. Tyrus as a much less accomplished mage than Haywood couldn’t have extended the rain barrier over Bronson too.

Bronson was miffed.

By the time they got to the university campus, which floated 20 metres above the surface of a lake, he was too irritated to enjoy it. At least the winding pathway of floating stones, which led to up, was covered by a rain barrier.

At least Tyrus used a floating platform to carry the bags. Bronson knew he would struggle to show the right degree of strength if he had.

The path ended in a small well-lit building which seemed to serve as a gatehouse and reception area. At the opposite end of the room, a pair of guards in thick plate armour flanked a pair of double doors and were waving people through. Bronson and Tyrus approached a desk to the left of the doors.

“How can I help you today?” The warm low call came from a short Alcan with a cracked horn and ruddy cheeks.

“I’m Tyrus Lintwin and this is my nephew Bronson Berkley. We both intend to move into the university accommodations. I believe there is a residence set aside for me. And Bronson will be moving into the dormitories.”

“Yes of course. You must be the replacement for Dr Kaur’s role. Bronson is one of the later students to arrive, as induction starts later today, but definitely won’t be the last. “ As the Alcan stopped talking Bronson noticed a small pin on their shirt. Wexler Schmidt They/Them. Non-binary? Based. Tho maybe it’s not like a big thing here? Nessa was incredibly upfront about being trans.

Wait does that mean that if I have kids they’ll be in line for the throne? No wait, one degree of separation. Magic probably makes it so people aren’t infertile right?

While Bronson thought over the implications of magic and who can and who can’t get pregnant, Wexler rifled through a rack of papers. “Ahh here, Bronson–” Wexler handed over a map and sheet with Bronson Berkley at the top. “–this has your room number and building on it, as well as where you’ll need to register for your student ID and where you’ll be meeting your personal tutor later. Just show these papers to the guards and they’ll let you through.

“Professor Lintwin, if you don’t mind waiting, I can have someone here shortly to escort you to your apartment.” Wexler gestured to a cluster of high-backed armchairs. “No need to wait around Bronson, you can feel free to go on ahead, I’m sure you’re excited to look around.”

Bronson was still irritated with Tyrus and actually did want to explore, if only to get away from him, but he also couldn’t justify carrying the bags.

“I’m afraid I’ll have to decline, this one was ill recently and the fool didn’t have the stats in vitality to counteract it. He’s still too weak to carry so much weight.” Tyrus shot Bronson a glare, but the corner of his lip curled on the side facing away from Wexler.

“Don’t worry I can just as easily call a second person over to help Bronson get settled in,” said Wexler. “Bronson am I to assume you’ve since increased your vitality?”

Bronson did his best to look guilty and scratched the back of his neck. “Uh yeah, Tyrus hired some adventurers to get me some kills so I could level up and fight the illness off.”

“Why didn’t you just use experience shards?” asked Wexler, confusion written across their face.

Why wouldn’t Bronson have just used the money experience?

“I wasn’t about to let the fool stunt his growth. He needs something to rely on after I die, he definitely isn’t taking over my company.” Stunt his growth? Why would that–

Wexler coughed and smiled, then drew the conversation back on topic. “Above twenty Bronson?”

“Oh uh, it’s at nineteen, Uncle said it would be enough.” Bronson shifted nervously. “Is that not enough?” It would have been terrible if his cover identity wasn’t even allowed to attend because of a stat being too low.

“No, no, it’s fine. I’m just going to put a note on your file so a professor doesn’t use you to test a potion in alchemy and that kind of thing,” said Wexler. Bronson didn’t see them write anything anywhere, so presumably, there was some kind of skill or magic involved in the process. “Also don’t let any of your friends test their potions on you either. Nineteen should keep you safe, but there’s a reason that twenty is used as a lower bound for testing purposes.”

If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

Almost as an afterthought Wexler added,” It goes without saying that you shouldn’t consume any potions created by higher-year students. They have access to more potent reagents.”

After talking to Wexler, Bronson and Tyrus sat down in the armchairs not talking to each other. It wasn’t long before a person came and led Tyrus away. Tyrus, being Haywood, pushed Bronson’s bags over the side of the disk, where they fell to the ground in a pair of synchronised thuds.

And as Bronson shouldn’t have been strong enough to pick them up he had to leave them where they were. Why is he like this? This looks so bad.

Thankfully Wexler came over to right the bags, presumably seeing the stormy expression on Bronson’s face. “Don’t worry about it kid, I’m sure he’s going to lighten up once you’re healthier again. He’s probably just worried about you.”

“He’s got a funny way of showing it,” Bronson grumbled.

Wexler just gave him a gentle pat on the back.

Soon after a plump student came rushing past the guards at the opposite end of the room, either they regognised her or people were free to leave unopposed, and made a beeline for Wexler who pointed at Bronson.

“Hi I’m Victoria, but you can call me Vic if you like.” She held out an arm and Bronson clasped it in greeting, but she pulled him all the way to his feet, giving him a wide grin. “I’m the RA for our dorm. “What’s your name?”

Despite himself, Bronson found himself smiling back. “Hi Vic, I’m Bronson Berkley. I’ve not got a convenient nickname lined up but if you come up with one I’m open to workshopping.”

She looked to the side in thought and Bronson realised he was a good foot taller than her. Light bounced off her bright orange top, framing her dark cheeks in a soft golden glow. Suddenly aware of how close to her he was standing, he stepped back.

“How do you feel about Bronty?”

“Huh. Oh, might need some workshopping?”

“Well let’s get going, we can talk about it while we make our way to the dorms.” Without any fanfare, she grabbed Bronson’s two bags motioning him on and up to the guards where he presented his papers and was quickly let through.

“I feel guilty not helping with the bags.”

“Well Berkleson, I am always happy to help someone in need.”

“It’s amazing, and just like that no more guilt.”

Vic giggled. “I was in a similarly sorry state when I arrived, I just wish someone had helped me out when I first came here.”

Bronson doubted she had been in quite as bad a state as he was, at least without the brooch. Though it felt like its pressure was about to crest. If he could say something before it did that would be good. “Oh, I thought you were a first-year like me?”

The pain roiled in his knee, his steps taking on a slightly uneven pattern. Vic turned to him. “Oh yeah I am, I just helped out around here as an assistant to one of the professors, before I started. It’s one of the prerequisites for getting a scholarship. Bronson, are you okay?”

He gave her the best smile he could. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Because if you need to rest there’s some benches just ahead.”

“No no, it’s okay.” Twenty metres ahead a pair of dark benches capped by ornate iron armrests looked out over the lake below.

“How come there is a lake?”

“There’s a water trial dungeon. It’s the final exam for the first combat class.”

“Ah.”

They walked along in silence for a while, Vic occasionally glancing over with concerned looks. The pain had passed though so Bronson wasn’t too concerned.

“B.”

“Huh?”

“We should call you B or Bs, like bees,” she said. “Because double b Bronson Berkley.”

“I think B might be better than Bees.”

“Yeaaah I thought so too.” She gestured to the first building they came to. “This is us.”

Vic led them into the building and up three flights of stairs. She easily carried his two bags but he had to feign tiredness from the climb. He couldn’t wait to ‘get better’ so he didn’t have to pretend anymore. Well, that and actually get better so he didn’t have to keep wearing the brooch of pain and anguish.

“I think this room should be yours. You’re sharing with Abrax, he’s a scholarship student like me. Pretty quiet though. If you just come to the office with me we can get your access sorted out.”

As it turned out the ‘office’ was actually a section of Victoria’s room. It seemed she got one to herself though so it seemed to balance out. “B if you could just push a little Kol into this gem, we should be good to go.”

Bronson reached his hand forward and Vic slapped it down. “You aren’t even going to ask for proof, that’s so irresponsible.” Then she sighed and pushed the gem into Bronson’s hand. He pushed some Kol in and then she took it back.

They went back to his room and she pushed it against the lock. The gem disappeared inside. “If you just touch your hand to it it should open,”

Bronson touched the door. Nothing happened.

“That’s not supposed to happen. Oh. Do you have any active spell effects on right now?”

“Not spell effects?”

“Anything at all that might be messing with your Kol flow then.”

Really?

“Yes, but I can’t stop it.”

“B if you make this much work for me going forwards I don’t know if we can be friends.” Victoria got the gem back out of the lock. “Come back to the office with me.”

It turned out Victoria’s solution was to take some of his blood and bind that to the gem instead. It meant that he’d have to put blood on the door every time he opened it but at least he could get in.

Vic offered to come with Bronson as he registered for his student ID, that way they could both go to the cafeteria once he’d finished up with that. He agreed, by the time he finished registering they only had a little time before they needed to meet their personal tutor so they ate a quick lunch before heading off for room 113.

Once they entered the room someone yelled, “Vic.” Both of them turned but there was only one seat left at the table.

Victoria turned to Bronson. “Hey do you mind if I catch up with them?”

“Go ahead, I’ve stolen too much of your time already.”

“Talk to you later.” She gave a little wave and she was off.

Most of the tables were full so Bronson walked over to an empty one. There were still a few minutes left for people to arrive so it wasn’t likely he’d be left completely alone. There was also building pressure on his right side. Whatever was there he wasn’t sure, but when it went off there it always made him flinch.

As he went to pull out a chair someone called from behind him. “I wouldn’t sit there. The Thalsian was sitting there.” Bronson moved one and then sat down.

The same voice came again but quieter. “What do I care if the idiot peasant gets himself killed.”

At that moment the pain crested and Bronson stiffened.

There were a few laughs from the table behind him. Idiots. Bronson thought back on what he knew about Thalsa. It wasn’t much, other than that it was one of the fringe kingdoms and acted as a buffer against the other two empires. He also felt like they might regularly have border skirmishes with the empire, but their terrain advantage meant that armies couldn’t push into their land.

“You don’t have to sit next to me if you’re frightened.” A guy with short straight black hair and brown eyes sat down next to him. Thin metallic threads of countless colours and shades were threaded between his antlers. It was really pretty.

“I’m not scared.” The pain made it come out a little stiff. This elicited another round of laughs from the table behind him and a raised eyebrow from the Thalsian.

What a wonderful first impression I’ve made.

A few minutes later a mass of rust-coloured tentacles came in through the door. At the centre was the body of an octopus covered by countless shifting runes. “Hello I’m Professor David and I’m going to be your personal tutor for the next four years.”

The room smelled faintly of seaweed. I don’t think octopuses are supposed to have that many limbs.