Prologue: 519 Greenleaf DE
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Chapter One: Class Selection Day
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“What class you think you’re going to get anyway?” Irvin’s sarcastic tone rung out over Blychert’s shoulder, as the pair of them pushed their way through the crowded Guildhall, “Or wait, let me guess… you’ve already seen your destiny, haven’t you?”
Something like that. Bly thought with just the barest hints of a smile, otherwise unwilling to give his friend the satisfaction that came with being an unrepentant ass. He then replied, and perhaps more than a little arrogantly, “You do know there’s almost zero chance of me not getting a magic class, right?”
Behind him, Irvin clicked his teeth with a snicker, a telltale sign that he was concocting some kind of retaliatory response. Lo and behold, Irvin retorted smugly, “It’d be pretty embarrassing if you didn’t though. I mean, just think about how long you’ve been Bartolo’s apprentice. What a waste that would be! Personally? I hope you get fishmonger.”
As if. Bly rolled his eyes.
Irvin had been his best friend for as long as he could remember, so he didn’t usually take his banter as anything more than that. It wasn’t like he didn’t give as good as he got. But Irvin certainly had an effective way of pushing his buttons to the absolute limits sometimes. And on today of all days? On class selection day? One more half-assed quip out of him, and Bly wasn’t certain that he would be able to restrain himself from smacking Irvin across the back of the head, or better yet, summoning a swarm of bees to chase him back the way they’d just come in.
Putting the thought out of mind, however, Bly set himself to the tall task of finding a spot towards the front of the hall for them to stand, and so he led the way forward without any further delay. Together, they weaved in-and-out through the mass of other teenagers also gathered to receive their classes, not to mention all their doting families, and Bly couldn’t help but wonder about his chances of getting a magic class for the millionth time that morning.
It was probably stupid, but he couldn’t help but recall that one rumor he’d heard, about how being among the first to receive your class on selection day supposedly gave you slightly better odds of getting a good one, or maybe even the one you wanted. He supposed it had something to do with the Heavenly Principle stepping in on their behalf, but he couldn’t say for certain.
At any rate, he wasn’t sure he even really believed the rumor, divine intervention or not.
Classes had a lot to do with attributes, everyone knew that, and his magic score was among the highest in the holding. He’d had to work a long time for that number, so maybe he was just starting to feel the pressure with such high expectations mounting? Practically everyone said that he was a shoo-in for the sorcerer class too, and that kind of confidence was enough to make even him nauseous.
Either way, there couldn’t be anything wrong with stacking the deck in his favor. Could there be? Class selection day was the start of everything—the beginning of their very lives—and he wanted it to go exactly like he’d dreamed it would.
“Bly! Irvin!” The bright, bubbly voice of their friend Annie called out suddenly, as the two boys finally reached the front of the hall, “You guys, over here!”
Cocking his head to the side somewhat, Bly regarded the short, brown-haired girl bobbing up and down through the crowd as she pushed her way towards them. Stumbling a bit on the boots of those around her, however, Annie fell forward abruptly.
Before Bly could even react, Irvin had postured himself to Bly’s righthand side, as quick as a fox. He reached across and grabbed Annie by the arm, before hoisting her upright, all in the blink of an eye.
“Hell, Annie… watch where you’re going, would you?” Irvin scolded her, but his teasing smile told of a deeply unserious demeanor, “Come to think of it, today’s not really the day for your clumsiness. If by some miracle you get the priest class, the Church is doomed. Doomed!”
“Eh, sorry…” Annie sighed with a flushed face, offering an apologetic glance up at the middle-aged woman behind her, who simply nodded with the barest hint of acknowledgment. Annie then turned back around and assumed her usual, cheery expression, exhaling slightly before saying, “Don’t say things like that Irvin. And good morning, by the way. I was starting to wonder when you two would get here, seeing as how you’re both late. We just heard a few minutes ago that Administrator Caelus was almost ready to begin.”
“Really? Nice, then we’re right on time.” Irvin held out his arm, flicking one of his fists in Bly’s direction, “Even Bly will tell you that’s the truth.”
“You got that right.” Bly nodded with a smile, bumping knuckles with his friend, before adding, “Can’t really say I’d want to stand around here for any longer than we had to. Once we’ve got our classes, it’s go-time.”
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“Exactly.” Irvin doubled down on Bly’s reply, but suddenly his expression turned to one of troubled thoughts, “Just thinking about how many abilities we’re going to have to learn makes my head spin—damn, I’m going to have a lot of decisions to make, and not a lot of time to do it. Sam promised to take me along on a quest tomorrow. If I get a good enough class, that is.”
“Liar.” Bly protested with an amused chuckle, “Sam’s not taking you anywhere. Except maybe the training circle. I’ve seen your numbers, big guy. You’re definitely not ready for a quest at his level.”
“Typical Bly,” Irvin squinted, shaking his head as if to say that Blychert was the crazy one. His lips pursed slightly, and Bly just knew Irvin was going to break out laughing if he didn’t first, but Irvin added, “Always the jealous type, aren’t we?”
“You wish.” Bly punched him on the arm softly.
And he meant it too.
Sure, he might have normally been a little bit jealous if what Irvin was saying was actually true. But he was going to be far too busy diving into his own class abilities to worry too much about whatever trouble Irvin and his good-for-nothing older brother were thinking of getting up to tomorrow.
“Guys…” Annie interjected despondently, “Today’s all about the celebration of our journeys. Can’t you stop thinking about your classes for one second? We should be grateful to the Heavenly Principle that we get to stand here at all. If not for that, well… who knows where we’d be, or what we’d be doing? Or even what our lives would look like?”
“Easy.” Irvin snapped his finger cooly, “I’d already be halfway to level ten as a Blood Dragon Knight.”
Bly snorted, “You can’t be serious?”
Irvin’s brow creased, “Yeah? What of it?”
“You really need me to spell it out for you?” Bly mocked him, “Okay. Let’s say Blood Dragon Knight really was on the table for you, that’s still a tenth level specialization, bozo. Not a fifth. Didn’t you even read through the Compendium? We’ve had access to it for months…”
“Yeah, yeah, smart ass, I’ve got a tenth level specialization for you, right here—!”
Blychert silently cursed Irvin and his high athleticism score, all from within the confines of his suddenly sprung headlock maneuver. But before Irvin even had the chance to drill his knuckles into Bly’s skull, Blychert squeezed out a single phrase beneath his breath, “Star light’s splendor, hear my call and burst forth. Light—”
Feeling the mana surge, his hand suddenly rose to a small glow, to which he promptly shoved the flashing light directly into Irvin’s prematurely victorious face.
“Gah—!” Irvin winced, releasing his intense grasp at once.
“You’re both idiots…” Annie sighed amidst the scuffle, before adding more irritably, “And we even agreed to get here early? Remember?”
The two boys stopped horsing around for a moment and glanced across at each other awkwardly, the smallest hints of recollection swirling between them. Bly realized straight away that his friend didn’t know a thing about what she was saying. Which was all well and good, because neither did he. And so, without a single word uttered their differences were put aside, and their story was mostly straight… or at least, Bly thought it was.
“Sorry, Annie.” Bly shrugged, “Must have forgot.”
“Yeah, uh… that’s right, I don’t know either!” Irvin practically projectile vomited his response. Blychert couldn’t help but think for a moment that for someone who was considered to have the strongest battle aura in their selection group, Irvin sure was a pitiful liar. Irvin then said, “Anyway, uh… that doesn’t sound like something I’d agree to. Right?”
Annie shook her head with a devious grin, seeing right through his deception no doubt, “I bet you’re just scared, Irvin. Aren’t you? Afraid you won’t be a swordsman like your older brothers?”
“What—” Irvin stammered, and now it was his turn to blush, “Okay, that’s just not true! There are ten generations worth of classed warriors in the Rowe family. I’ve trained my whole life for this. You seriously think I’m scared about missing out now? Pftt please—it’s a guarantee, trust me.”
What a hypocrite. Bly thought with an amused grin, seeing as how Irvin had called him out a few minutes ago for saying something not too dissimilar. In any case, and no matter how cool Irvin thought he was, Annie was better at riling him up than he ever was at getting under Bly’s skin.
“Maybe…” Annie said teasingly, giggling somewhat, “Nobody really knows what class they’ll get, after all. It’s all in the hands of the Divine now. Although, you look more nervous than Bly, and that’s saying something.”
Her remark made Bly’s skin crawl now.
Was he really that easy to read? An anxious knot had definitely begun to form in the pit of his stomach this morning, but he was trying to play it cool.
Uncomfortably, Bly glanced around the hall quickly, wondering if anyone else was feeling the same way he was. There was also this little voice in the back of his head that seemed way too comfortable telling him that all his years of hard work and dedication to magecraft were about to be rewarded with nothing short of a generic class, just like Irvin had teased about earlier.
Farmer, roofer, painter, illuminator, manservant… those kinds of jobs were obviously very important, but Bly wanted to be more than that. He wanted a magic class more than anything. He wanted to be a legitimate spellcaster, through-and-through, and not just someone who could perform cheap tricks and cast basic spells.
Whatever the case, he couldn’t help but wince slightly at the small possibility that by the end of the day, he could very well be stuck doing something he hated for the rest of his life.
“One day…”
The familiar blaze of a migraine burned through Blychert’s head all of a sudden.
They always seemed to come at the worst times, especially when he was stressed out, and it had been that way ever since he was little. But even more than that, they were always accompanied by some strange sensation he couldn’t explain. It was just flashes of colors and shapes most of the time, and occasionally the shadows of a face, or even a few words here or there. He didn’t know if it was real or not, or if it was just a vivid dream he’d once had, but somehow it always reminded him to simply take a breath.
And so, he did.
Today was going to be a good day.
It had to be.
“Good morning.” A hoarse, even-toned voice spoke suddenly, snapping Bly back to reality. A shadowy figure then rose into view at the front of the hall, as the voice continued, “If I might evoke your undivided attention, we shall proceed with the selection ceremony.”
Blychert gulped, for the time had finally come for them to receive their classes.