Three days feels like an eternity when you don’t have any food, and feels even longer when you have food but the food fights back. There is an argument that starving would’ve been nobler, wiser and kinder three days. But cowards were the type of people who starved themselves. We weren’t cowards. Even Rose took a bite. One single bite.

Azog had read about it on a flier. It read:

Clean up of the sewer needed, vegetables free for pillaging.

It was important to note that vegetables are not coins and eating them did not solve our money problems. But it is hard to make money, when you are starving to death. It is also important to note that vegetables are not as succulent and docile as meat, but any food was better than no food.

“One single bite isn’t enough, Rose. Listen to Azog. This is his land, he knows it better than you. He knows it better than anyone in this city.”

“He’s never been to this city! How could he know more about this place than the locals?!”

“But he’s from the Isles. That’s far closer to any place these ‘locals’ are from. These lands run in his blood; his blood flows through these sewers.”I said, while the kung fu shrooms warped my mind. I lurched over as I felt another one kick the inner walls of my stomach. Groaning, I slowly picked myself off the floor. Dammit, why’d it go for the roundhouse kick two times in a row.

Kung Fu Shrooms were a different sort of mushroom that learned the art of fighting back. Then, they learned that fighting first was more of an effective way at getting what they wanted. Some would consider this bullying, but those were semantics that were foreign to vegetables. They only knew of the advantages gained from kicking dumb animals to death and using their corpses to grow their children.

“Is that why my feet are sticky?” Rose asked.

“No, there is something else that makes the feet sticky.” Azog managed to utter. Three days without much food was enough time for him to go a bit feral. He wore his robes up to the waist, exposing his muscular chest. He managed to fasten a necklace made of poison ivy. He itched at his neck but the uncomfortable pain would not go away.

The jungle of sewers is different from city to city, but one truth remains for all of them. While there is an abundance of free food hiding beneath the sewage, the food that lurks down in the depths is tougher than anything that could be grown on the fertile soil of the surface. It has to be tough to survive, where the homeless roam.

“But the carrot’s plead for mercy when you stick them in your mouth. Now, I know carrots can’t really be sentient, but their coherent arguments are starting to make me think otherwise.”

“It's a survival mechanism that came from years and years of artificial magic selection.These carrots aren’t more sentient than the very muck beneath your feet,” I said.

“I just…”

“You shouldn’t have mentioned the Terror Bunny. You wouldn’t feel bad if you didn’t bring it up. Your belly would’ve been fuller.” I continued.

“But how could I have known, that carrots heart wrenching story would’ve been so gripping, so real.”

“Real is what it wants you to think. Think less, eat more.” Azog reasoned.

“It’s just, I want to go back. I know the beds are made of stone and the spiders crawl on your face when you sleep. But this isn’t any better.”

“You liked the idea of becoming a sewer princess, Rose.”

“But my family?”

“The carrots are your family, now.” said Azog as he ate one, presumably his second cousin in-law. His first cousin in-law, a shorter fatter carrot, he already ate.

And then a bell rang. I narrowed my eyes. There was something about a bell ringing that didn’t sit right with me. I tried to recollect what it was I was missing, but my sluggish mind had trouble thinking.

“Is there something that I need to get to? Some place I need to be?” I asked outloud to myself.

Azog thought hard.

“Deeper.” he reasoned.

“Wait!” yelled Rose, who had yet to eat one of the mushrooms, or even a full carrot.

“”What? I’m supposed to go deeper, don’t interrupt me.” I said, as I began to shuffle deeper into the sewers.

Stolen novel; please report.

“You’ve got a job, Arthur. You’re a student’s aide.”

I stopped. I thought long and hard. Then it occurred to me that she was right. Then it occurred to me that I was about to be late. I sprinted to the drainage gate, stumbling as the mushrooms kicked at my innards.

I smelled like someone who was scrounging about like a rat in a sewer. The crowds walking the fine streets of the underground avoided me as I sprinted towards our apartment. Kicking the door open, I ran towards the shower. I banged on the locked doors, but unfortunately the spiders were taking a shower right now.

“Let me in!” I yelled, whatever the spiders did the shower was a mystery to me. They certainly weren't washing themselves.

The spiders did not respond. But I could hear them scrambling around the inside of the tub. It was their turn to use the shower, and they were making sure to maximize every second. They weren’t going to unlock the door, I realized.

That left me with few options. I knew that I couldn’t arrive on my first day, smelling like sewage water. I needed some way of removing the stench, the dirt, and the grime. There was a spout out back, to fill troughs for horses. I turned the spigot, and wiped myself with the cold, murky water the best I could.

Without proper soap, or even a towel to dry myself off fully, I realized that I still smelled a little bit. It was not super noticeable like before, but my unkempt appearance was definitely going to be noticed. I put on my uniform, pulling the directions to the university from the pocket of my new uniform.

They were sort of your stereotypical wizard robes, and were made of a material that was nicer than any material I’d worn before. I shielded my mind from the intrusive thoughts about how much this uniform would cost if I didn’t get it for free. A silver, two silver? Whatever the price, it was worth too much. There was no value in these robes.

As I ran farther into the city, eventually I came across other students and student aides, walking along the roads towards a large building with grande steps. Something I noticed immediately, was that most of the student aides were interacting with their students. It felt odd to me, that Brethslan wouldn’t want to follow a norm when he wanted to fit in. Although, it wasn’t really my business, so I just shrugged and climbed up the steps.

A thin wiry old man, with a gray mustache and a monocle, held a list at the entrance.

“Name.” He said.

“Arthur.” I responded.

“Just Arthur?”

“No titles, no family name?”

“Arthur, former apprentice of Alric.”

The old man stared at me with an unassuming expression.

“You’re the student aide, with all that debt. It was unfortunate when I heard about the death of Alric, but it was to be expected.”

“How so?”

The person at the entrance looked around to make sure none of the other students were eavesdropping. They were too busy talking about the sorting shoe to notice this conversation.

“He was an idiot, frankly. Your bar is low, like your masters. Give it two weeks, and head for the wilderness. If you’re lucky, you’ll get to spend a couple months eating berries and sipping on river water before the debt collector scrapes your body off the rocky cliffs. In fact, take your student with you. From the rumors I heard, he’s not gonna fare much better.”

“Well, er, no. What’s your name, again?”

“Master Snell. Good talk, kid. Now get inside and go help your student make the best of his sorting.”

Master Snell pushed me inside.

The sorting room, or the room where the students were to be sorted was a grand hall that wasn’t big enough for the hundreds of new students, let alone their excitement. As I thought about magic and how it probably could’ve been used to make the hall larger, I bumped my way through the students trying to get a vantage of the stage where a large shoe sat. Big enough to fit all of the largest feet.

It was an odd thing. How, the students were able to drift away from me, with no room to escape my stench. It wasn’t that I smelled bad from a distance, but remnants of the sewers lingered on my body. Without a proper washing, I stood out among the other students and study aides.

I wasn’t the only person in the room who stood out. Unlike me, however, those who stood out among the crowd did so for different reasons. A group of students, who were wearing uniforms with a golden badge, were the envy of every other student. They were the honor students, whose magical feats or untapped promise opened doors to better classes and one on one instruction with the professors. Also, free snacks.

Preferential treatment was not unheard of in the academy.

I eavesdropped on a group of three girls, study aides, chatting amongst themselves. I made sure not to get too close. No one wanted to come around me, I surmised. First impressions were important, so I figured it was best to wait until I had tidied myself up a bit more before I made them.

“I hope my student has an affinity for fire magic. I’ve always wanted to tend a primal flame, and raise demons.”

“As If your student would be sorted into the witch's fast track. Elda will probably get the herbalist track.”

“I know. She’s just too timid, to get anything better.”

The other two girls nodded, sagely.

In that moment, I realized two things. The first thing I realized was that study aides didn’t get to go up and try on the shoe. It was a student run academy, study aides had to make due with what their students were classed into. I wondered how likely it was for my student Brethslan to get put with the necromancers.

I really didn’t want to learn gardening if I could help it.

But there was more to Necromancy than slinging around bones and raising ghouls. Even if I didn’t get to study Necromancy, I was certain that most of the magic I’d learn would be fundamental for my growth.

As I stood on my tip toes, and peered my head at some of the shorter people, I was able to spot my student in the distance. He stood out among the crowd of people. It wasn’t a gold button on his insignia or even his well kept hair that drew my attention. It definitely wasn’t the handmade lunch that he was trying, but failing to hide behind his back. The reason Brethslan stood out was because he was talking to someone who everyone was glancing at. Some nervously, some out of jealousy.

The student in question wasn't particularly big, nor particularly small. His nose looked like a nose and his face was anything but remarkable. While his blonde hair was rare among the sea of dark raven blacks and unruly browns there were others with blonde hair.

I respected Brethslan's warning and kept my distance for now. I would be the perfect flower on the wall. Preferably, the type of flower that smells nice. I’d have to work on that.

I was too busy, staring discreetly at the distracting but ordinary student to notice someone tap me on the shoulder.