It was a crisp Saturday morning, the weather outside growing warmer with each passing day as the spring crept onwards. Nearly a month had passed since the duel between Naiara and Cassius, if one bothered to classify it as a ‘duel’, and the events of the Academy at large continued on as though nothing had truly changed. Which, to be entirely objective, they hadn’t. While losing one of their dozen members may have been a massive alteration to the daily lives of X13, the rest of the school hardly blinked– if they noticed for any reason at all other than to gossip.
The social and political stressors behind the event had been lessened substantially by the fact that, despite cutting him from their roster, Naiara had not forced Cassius out of the academy. It seemed the wolven girl had known better than to take things quite so far– Instead her conditions for winning had been threefold; He was stripped of all Academy rank, dropping him flat down to D3 in standing. He was removed from Class X13, but permitted to be placed into one of the general first-year classes… And of course, he had been required to supply the appropriate medical treatment necessary to resuscitate Seren.
After being given the antidotes the dragonkin had bounced back quickly, returning to her fiery self in two or three days despite the fact that Cassius never formally admitted to poisoning her. The burden of evidence was overwhelming despite his silence, and while the technicalities of the situation may have protected him from official punishment, it did nothing to shield him from the scorn of his peers.
Hearing what had occured during her unconsciousness appeared to twist at Seren, and she seemed unsure of how to accept Naiara’s actions on her behalf– Though she was spared the awkwardness of much direct interaction, as the wolven girl was kept unpleasantly busy in the aftermath of her decision. Her little display, while within the rules, had caused no small stir for both the academy and herself. The Great Houses were not of Tenebris, but they were still wealthy, influential, and above all, proud. The damage dealt to one of their lineage was not an insult their hubris would accept lightly.
Naiara seemed to care very little about this, but dutifully acquiesced to the meetings and damage control measures the academy asked of her in the following weeks. This significantly impacted her usual presence within the classroom, but the most dramatic shift to X13’s internal dynamic was yet to come. More intense than Naiara’s fleeting presence or Cassius’ ousting was what their class gained instead– as some days after the noble’s exile from their ranks, Kotomi barged cheerfully into X13’s morning homeroom session and introduced herself as an official member of their class.
It seemed that the conditions surrounding her presence at the Academy had been largely accidental. She and Izadura had misunderstood their application requirements and thus, had only classified Izadura as an attending student. The dozen slots in their ‘extended curriculum’ class had been filled before they arrived and the instructors realized Kotomi was her own, independent and individualistic person. They had worked a loophole by permitting her to stay with Izadura in weaponoid form, as she was ‘part of his equipment’, but until Cassius vacated his slot her presence within their group was not graded nor official.
This change of pace turned out to be a blessing and a curse for Kotomi. She joyfully embraced her ability to take human form and converse with her classmates– But she was now also directly subject to homework, projects, and tests. Still, her amiable nature and high spirits won her a place in the hearts of the class quickly, never leaving her without help.
With Kotomi’s quick adaptation and acceptance into the group, not a soul seemed disappointed to see Cassius gone. Not even Matthias, who was more relaxed now than Argent had ever seen him. The young priest had become a part of their regular company, as he still appeared drawn to hang around Seren despite her on-and-off spurts of aggression.
Changes in roster aside, life at the DCA had more or less progressed as usual. Argent attended daily courses with his classmates, survived perilous field activities courtesy of Instructor Spinette, and gradually gained functional experience from the lessons provided by the veteran members of their instructional staff.
He committed himself to the continuation of his personal training wherever possible, staying on top of his swimming routine and his slowly developing swordplay. Naiara had become less available to coach him as time went on, but still appeared from the aether now and again to give him pointers and check his progress.
In lieu of the class president, Argent had made a new friend to keep him company during practice– a strange little creature that he often found wandering around the pool during his morning swim. It was something akin to a mixture of otter and kitten, or other unknown mustelid creatures, and with a bit of research he had been able to identify it only as an ‘Oteko’. Supposedly they were amphibious mammals native to the low water regions of the Rim.
Origins aside, the creature was aloof but curious. At first it had maintained a strong sense of distance from Argent, skirting around the edges of the pool but never allowing him to come too close. After discerning its species and origin, Argent had taken to bribing the creature with food, and had slowly but surely built enough rapport for it to be willing to eat right from his hand. Once the Oteko had gotten comfortable it became surprisingly affectionate, often butting its head up against him whilst underwater or rubbing against his legs when out of the pool.
Whatever the case, it seemed to be allowed upon the grounds– no one ever bothered it nor questioned it– and whilst it had no tags or given name, it did wear a small leather band around the neck. Argent supposed it may have been someone's pet or animal familiar, all things considered.
With his goal of a physical regimen established, Argent turned his attention towards correspondence with the school staff regarding his other personal projects; finally receiving approval from the dormitory's director to hang planter boxes from his outside windowsill. He made an afternoon of building them with Gauge’s help one weekend, drawing rapt looks from several dormitory residents as they cut and hammered boards outside.
Ultimately the ruckus worked to their advantage, as by chance they caught the attention of Remelia, the small girl approaching them curiously upon her return from lunch. She spent a moment or two watching them, and after making an assessment of the measured boards, materialized her greatsword in a rush of energy. Argent panicked, waving his arms for her to stop, but was forced to dive out of the way as she put the massive blade to work. He remained flat on the ground, covering his head with his arms as the vibration of metallic strikes rang out behind him in quick and successive clangs.
Remelia looked exceedingly pleased with herself in response to the utter disbelief on Argent’s face when he found that each cut had been made perfectly. She sat outside with them afterwards, happily kicking her legs and sipping on the mixture of lemon and mint she had been given as thanks. Dark eyes watching as Gauge finished nailing and slotting the boards together whilst Argent filled them with soil.
Once they were complete, Argent began propagating them immediately. Dominantly with cuttings and materials procured from Instructor Kingsfoot's greenhouse, thanks to their previous agreement, but also with a few personal acquisitions mixed in. Over the course of a few weeks, he had slowly but surely turned the side of his room into a miniaturized botanical wonder.
In addition to the outside planters, oddly shaped pots and boxes full of soil were spaced around the sunlit area beside the window, casting accentuated shadows through the many colourful bottles hung by ropes and netting attached to the ceiling. The baubles contained an array of bulbs and flowers, their roots suspended in various liquids within the hydroponic homes.
These plants and specimens were incredibly important to Argent's long-term goals. His physical fitness, combat skills, and classroom grades were all highly relevant matters– but Argent knew he had to begin practicing formal alchemy once more in earnest. His specialized studies had slowed to a crawl during the first months of his academy attendance, all but stopping as he adapted to the many stressors pressed upon him by the extended curriculum. Now that life as part of X13 seemed a little more normal, or at the very least as ‘normal’ as it could be considered, it was far past time for him to make an active effort towards settling in and getting back to the grind.
After all, Argent desperately wanted to become stronger and more useful. He needed to, in his eyes. He had made great strides forward since his enrollment and was holding his own academically, but the distance between him and his classmates became grievously apparent in the field. At least, that was how he felt. While it was true that he would not consider himself as having ever been an active detriment to their adventures, he could not staunch the tide of insecurities which his high-performing classmates rooted in his stomach.
Self doubt burned from his experiences in Thrylld, still fresh from the largely undesirable outcome, and highlighted by Izadura and Kotomi’s performance during their battles with Faewitch and the Enthralled Golem which Brandubh had become. Hesitance stemmed from the way Cassius had vengefully targeted and defeated Seren, an opponent Argent knew he could not best… But the third– and most glaring– was the terrified awe instilled as Naiara utterly brutalized Cassius in retribution to his prior act. As though he were nothing to her. As though he were an insect to be trod under foot.
Even if Argent wrote Naiara off as an anomalous outlier, the curve in their levels of proficiency, power, and experience were monumental. Surviving the ordeal in Thrylld had been a huge step forward for him, granting both levels and personal growth, but it felt like a single drop in an otherwise very empty bucket.
It was certainly true that Argent was working hard and growing steadily, improving in ways which validated his efforts, but it was not enough to set him alongside his peers– or to so much as catch a glimpse of Naiara’s tail– in the figurative sense. He wanted to stand at their level. He wanted to contribute to the highly capable array of talent which was X13.
The Alchemist had thought about it long and hard, and his most glaring deficiency, in his personal opinion, was that he desperately needed to develop real, nuanced combat skills. Granted, Argent was not driven to become an ironclad vanguard capable of defeating powerful foes in bloody, frontal combat. He was content to play his chosen role and find solutions and skills which supported an operational party… But he needed more diverse, more manageable tools in his pocket.
Solving problems with explosions was proving to be- quite frankly- a massive invitation for his ultimate demise. Whilst undeniably effective in the heat of a moment, it stood to reason that most explosive tools were consumable and thus very limited in their use, making logistics a serious issue… And even then, supply was an issue which took second seat to the concern of self destruction in a fiery blast, or potential collateral to allies and environment.
The creation of powerful tools themselves was no longer the primary hurdle. Rather, Argent now had to consider ways to manage their efficacy against their safe employment.
This had not been much of a concern in the days preceding his enrollment, as Argent’s level and available power had been so limited that magnifying them had been critical for success. But now as time went on, even the Argent Pistols edged the line of becoming hazardous in light of his growing capabilities.
He had made several small tweaks to the channeling framework of the weapons as he picked up pieces of arcane theory from Instructors Redmane and Heiran; Factors of exponential power which, when paired with his own increasing arts capacity, enhanced the resulting blasts to such a degree that the barrels of the weapons could scarcely keep up with the pressure and heat.
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So long as he didn’t overdo things immediately, Argent found he could manage the temperature of his weapons by rotating in shells imbued with wind or ice arts, but even a single blasting shell could cause serious structural damage to the weapon if he failed to control the power of [Enhance Reaction] correctly.
He had learned this the hard way, having already blown out a barrel during a live combat session against Instructor Ward’s menagerie of captured monsters. The stress had gotten to him and he had poured his energy desperately into a single shot, splitting the barrel from its muzzle. The repair had been costly, and added on a whole new layer of considerations for the weapon schematics.
Already the alchemist invested several sleepless nights towards drafting up a concept for quickly replaceable barrels, after his initial research into forging a reinforced one proved far too costly to pursue anytime soon… But, this was not the reason for the pile of books upon the Alchemist’s desk today.
Weapons and tools aside, the currently pressing issue was the surging pool of aether humming in Argent’s core. Over the weeks since their return from Thrylld he had managed to amass a significant amount of the energy, enough to acquire one or two new arts and thus potentially raise his level. The alchemist sat at his desk, frustratedly tapping a quill against his journal as he stared into the aether plane, unable to determine how he wanted to allocate it.
At the current moment, the tree within his inner self provided him with twelve options from which to make his selection. It was a fortunate amount, more than most at his level might have enjoyed. Typically speaking, at the beginning of each individual’s life, they were brought into creation with at least two aspects open to them.
Concerning these aspects, it was commonly accepted that one would be provided with four cardinal ‘starting points’. In essence, four beginning arts to choose from. Each time an art was gained, the path beyond it would open. Whether it led forward to another, singular node, or split into two; Scholars on the subject surmised that it was about a seventy-five to twenty-five percent ratio, with an exorbitantly rare chance to diverge into three or more.
These diverging paths and the uniquely random order in which any single person might gain access to certain arts was what made them an individual, even if they possessed the exact same aspects as another. There would of course be similarities and strong points, as certain arts were more common or more likely to be chosen if presented, but there was nothing stopping two users of an identical aspect from becoming vastly different in terms of specialization.
Argent’s array of choice stemmed not only from the fact that he had been lucky enough to receive two instances of dual-splitting paths as he leveled his skills, but also from a purely natural advantage. First and foremost was the boon of one of his aspects being a Greater Aspect, but beyond this– whilst his Greater Aspect of Creation possessed the typical cardinal four– his Elemental aspect had come with seven starting points. Perhaps even more critical than the number of nodes themselves was the fact that amongst them, he had access to at least one art from each element, something very rare for elemental casters.
In some ways, it felt like a waste. Elemental casters were fortunate if they had two or three different elements under their belt, and were nearly considered prodigies should they possess four or more. Many high-level mages would have sacrificed much for access to every elemental specialization within the aspect… Yet here Argent sat with all paths open to him, and very little desire to pursue any of them heavily in lieu of his creation arts.
Sighing heavily, he let his aether vision mull over the Elemental tree, practically out of obligation and a sense of guilt. From his starting seven, he had been granted two electric nodes, [Lesser Magnetization] and [Charge]; and one of each other element. [Kindle], [Create Water], [Create Food], [Resist Cold], and [Windshot]. Of these seven choices, he had learned [Kindle], [Lesser Magnetization], and the two creation-related arts; as they synergized with his overall specialty and were immensely useful in the field.
[Kindle] had dual-split into the nodes for [Ignite] and [Firebolt], of which Argent had filled the latter during his adventures in Thrylld. Doing so opened the single pathway to [Flamethrower].
[Create Water] had also dual-split, presenting the options of [Water Breathing] and [Aqua Blade]. Argent had hurriedly dedicated the aether necessary to procure the [Water Breathing] art after his near drowning experience during the entrance exams. Of his remaining elemental arts, [Water Breathing], [Lesser Magnetization], and [Create Food] had all continued along singular paths, presenting [Acid Orb], [Shocking Grasp], and [Sprout] accordingly.
Progression within his Creation aspect was much more limited. One of the starting paths had been ultimately dead-ended by [Enhance Reaction], as the unique art did not currently allow Argent any method to progress it by normal means. The space beyond it was a haze, entirely unable to be viewed until [Kai Mirroring] had split off from its source.
As might be expected of one with a Greater Aspect, Argent had of course filled the other starting nodes as well. [Explosive Ruins], [Web], and [Create Carbon]. Each had progressed linearly, providing another three options; [Inscribe], [Grease], and [Lesser Barrier]. Thus providing his final lineup of possible selections:
[Acid Orb], [Aqua Blade], [Charge], [Flamethrower], [Grease], [Ignite], [Inscribe], [Lesser Barrier], [Resist Cold], [Shocking Grasp], [Sprout], and [Windshot].
It was a lot of information to process. The young alchemist stared at his options intently, gradually phasing his attention away from the aether plane with a frustrated sigh to look back at the books upon his desk. He had procured from the academy library a series of codex which outlined the descriptions and uses of documented arts, as one did not intrinsically gain the knowledge of an art until after it had been learned. Beyond the individual descriptions of each ability, the more advanced literature also presented theories and estimations on which arts possessed natural synergies or were more likely to yield ‘better’ progressions.
This particular series had been translated from old Elven, and admittedly not very well. Argent found himself wishing for the original text as he stumbled his way through oddly structured sentences and incomplete meanings. It was difficult enough to create an image in his head of what he wanted to become without having to fight against linguistics.
He ran a hand through his tufted white hair in mild exasperation, sitting back in his chair and flipping the book shut with a light pop upon impact. Admittedly, his annoyance stemmed more from his own indecision than it did from the book, but it provided a convenient physical outlet for him to vent upon. Standing, he looked towards the far side of his room where it lay covered in plants and flowers. He paced over to the garden of boxes, pots, and bottles, carefully examining a few of his specimens in an attempt to reset his mental space.
“It must be nice, knowing how you’re supposed to grow…”
Brushing his fingers against the long, slender petals of a flowering Jadeberry stalk, he let out a slow breath as he spoke quietly to the plant. The gentle colours helped relax him, and the scent of wild greenery was like a piece of home… Ah, home. A subtle frown tugged at the corners of his expression as that particular thought crossed the void of his headspace.
How long had it been since he had truly thought about home? Not in a nightmare or traumatic flashback, but simply to reminisce? How much attachment was left in him for that place? He chewed his bottom lip for a brief moment, shaking his head and moving on to check a hanging section of Hvarat Orchids. Their intense stripes of red and yellow gave off a sweet smell of smoke, like a burning incense, courtesy of the small arcane flame which burned upon their pistil.
Argent stared into their dancing lights as he considered his feelings, noting that there had only ever been one thing that truly made home, ‘home’; and she had died many years ago. He pulled that truth away from the clinging vines of nostalgia, the bits of childhood haze which blurred the edges of reality and made a thing seem more than it was. What he missed, if anything, was not the house. Not the lab, nor the forest behind it. Not the garden or the grounds. He missed something– someone– who would never return. Her wisdom, guidance, and care.
“I wish you could help point me in the right direction...”
Argent sighed under his breath, though he quickly raised his chin afterwards.
“But don’t worry about me. I’ll figure things out on my own… Eventually.”
The patter of footsteps outside pulled the alchemist from his thoughts for a moment, and he glanced curiously at his door in anticipation of a knock. The sound never came. He could have sworn the movement was coming from right outside, but it seemed that someone must have just been passing by. Turning back to his plants, Argent fussed over a pot of Dahnephin for a time, pruning small leaflets off the heavy stalks in order to urge them to grow taller still. They were a tempermental plant, almost a sort of miniature tree, but their method of spreading was haphazard. In the wild they would grow upward and outward simultaneously until the precarious balance of their heavy limbs caused the plants to fall, thus spreading their pollen and seeds, and so required careful attendance to prevent this from happening.
Tending to his resources for a time, the alchemist gradually felt himself returning to a sense of peace with the relative normality of his life here. Enrolling at the DCA was certainly the greatest achievement and most exciting experience of his life thus far, but for the moment, it was also his home. Ah.. There was that word, that feeling again. Home.
This time Argent smiled instead of frowned, nodding his head quietly to himself at the consideration. If before, it had been the things he had loved which made the old estate his home– then surely now, it was the same with the academy. Everything centered here. His goals, his ambitions, the friends he had made along the way. The things of greatest value to him were all a part of this place. Was that not ‘home’? The alchemist did not care much for many of the simple, cliche expressions when it came to matters of emotion and belonging, but begrudgingly acknowledged the poignancy of ‘Home is where the heart is’ in that moment.
Setting down his watering can and tools, he looked back towards his desk. Emerald eyes fell upon the stacked codex, returning his thoughts to the reason for their presence. The act of reflection itself caused him to remember yet deeper prompts, Izadura’s words concerning actions lingering in his memories.
..Did you do what you felt was right, at the time?
Argent chewed lightly at his bottom lip.
With what knowledge you had– Did you act as best you could?
“Augh! Alright!”
The outburst came suddenly, as Argent shook himself and raised his hands to firmly slap the sides of his cheeks in unison. The action sent a flush of blood to his skin and helped bring a sense of determined clarity back to the here and now, pushing away the matters inside his head. Closing his eyes, he reached for the aether and guided it, pushing it along the pathways inside himself to fill the node for [Lesser Barrier].
The art swirled and seethed with the energy for several long seconds, before taking on a full glow and solidifying as a piece of his internal circuitry. The path beyond it shimmered faintly, before expanding outwards into the previously unviewable haze– a single path, revealing a single new art; [Reshape Matter]. Argent’s spiritual eyes flicked over the new arrival, considering it. If it did exactly as its name implied, then it was certainly an interesting choice. He was tempted to fill it immediately, but some part of him decided against it.
“One step at a time, right?”
Or so he told himself, choosing to believe that it was temperance and not hesitance driving the decision. Pulling himself from the trance, he practiced the sign for his new ability several times, testing first to see the size of the barrier and the distance at which he could theoretically project it. The range appeared to be a rough three meters, just enough to reach an ally beside him with the circular disc of energy. It was comparable to a buckler, or perhaps a large dinner plate in terms of size, a shimmering energy that was mostly translucent save for faint ripples and threads of silver.
Argent went through the paces, activating the art through both signing and manifesting, treating the barrier as though it were attached to his forearm the way he would employ an actual shield. Aiming to trigger the [Lesser Barrier] as he brought his extremity up in guard as though to block or parry, he found the timing of it wasn’t quite right as he struggled to perform the cardinal commands in tandem with his movement– But that was a problem for future Argent.
Ultimately pleased with the overall results, present Argent had accomplished what he wanted. He had selected a new art, and he would soon select a second– after he took some time to clear his head and brew some potions.
Carefully, he lifted the square of thin leather upon which he had set the various clippings and cuttings taken during his time tending the plants, setting it upon his desk. Gathering the various elements of his alchemical kit from their places on the shelves above, he assembled the desired apparatus and set aside several tall bottles before assessing the components one final time, sitting down with a nod of his head.
“Time to get to work.”