With Instructor Cyrel’s backing and the agreement of her classmates, Seren was given the chance at redemption she was hoping for. The group entered the wilds again, changing the location to a mountainside but leaving their opposition the same. Five more Shadows.
They engaged this time in a small pass, having to mind the terrain for unstable rocks and possible falling debris as they were ambushed by the spectral remains of a bandit pack. It was a chaotic melee to the bitter end, all five of the shades wielding a haphazard variation of axes, clubs, and hammers– but the students of X13 played around one another much better than before. Argent and Matthias kept up a flow of communication and instruction throughout the ordeal, and everyone listened to their inputs. Plans were made and executed. Roles were filled and swapped as necessary. It wasn’t perfect, but it was far better than the first time. And certainly better than what would be expected from a group of young amateurs anywhere outside the DCA.
Matthias was growing increasingly comfortable with the commands for his most used arts, able to recite them with clarity and precision. Seren was still bullheadedly aggressive, but would double back when given an instruction even if she looked displeased. Argent was finding confidence in his swordplay, limited though it was, whilst Shizuka and Gauge had fallen into a general synergy with one another as they alternated between flex and front… And Remelia stood faithfully by, filling in the gaps and solving any problems that arose with fierce impunity.
Argent hadn’t noticed before, at least not cognizantly, but there was a certain comfort in having her there, standing over them. At times he felt braver than he might have otherwise given himself credit for. Bolder, and more assertive. Was it as simple as a confidence boost from feeling like they had an ace up their sleeve? Some sort of mental placebo? Or was it… Her? He couldn’t help but wonder why he hadn’t skipped a beat when deciding to argue with Seren– something he normally would have been more reserved about– or why he had barely noticed his heart in his throat when the hail of arrows descended upon him.
They ran the sequence back again, this time in a desert with six shadows; and then again, in a meadow with eight, and their performance was becoming a difference of night and day. These improvements were aided by the aether gains the party made during combat, enabling each of the group to gain access to an additional skill, but the largest difference by far stemmed from their repeated experience and growing sense of coordination.
Over the course of the battles they refined their party structure, fluctuating loosely between the what Instructor Balthazar had labeled the Overwatch and Flex methods. Argent seemed to fall naturally into the role of 'leader' as the group was inclined to trust his input, allowing him to take the initiative while in a flex position; But Matthias stood in and made an active effort to provide instruction and callouts whenever the {Alchemist} was otherwise engaged.
Differences in thought and tactical opinion between the mild-mannered {Priest} and the more determined {Alchemist} resulted in conflicting information on a few occasions, highlighting the need for better communication in the long term, but it was clear that the two were gradually synchronizing through each stream of combat. As the gentle sunlight and wind-swept grass of the meadow faded away to the impressively carved walls of the proving grounds, Argent allowed himself to lean back against a supporting pillar and slide into a sitting position. His tired legs gratefully buckled as they were released from the responsibility of holding him upright, causing him to hit the floor with a dull thump.
“Eight might have been a little ambitious.” He breathed heavily, looking pleased despite the statement.
“That’s another point for Remelia.” Gauge agreed with a tired laugh, as he too slid down upon the floor in an exhausted heap.
“But hell, that was stellar, even if she had to do some heavy lifting at the end.”
The others all voiced their agreement, and although Remelia said nothing in response, Argent believed the girl looked pleased when Shizuka stood behind her and affectionately fluffed her hair. In fact, the only thing that appeared to make her more pleased was Seren’s suggestion that they should hurry up and hit the mess hall before it closed. Time had moved swiftly once they’d really gotten into the thick of things, and tomorrow was a core day at the Academy, so they would have to be up bright and early for homeroom session. With that in mind the party said their goodbyes to Instructor Cyrel and hasted away.
The group shared a table despite the relative crowding all six of them resulted in, too tired to bother with pulling multiple together. Instead they ate and laughed in close proximity, and Argent couldn’t help but feel that their lack of physical distance was a striking analog for the social and emotional bonds they’d strengthened today. He didn’t really know them any better, not in the sense of personal details or small technicalities, but somehow he felt as though he knew them more than before. At the very least, he trusted them more than before. It was funny to the {Alchemist} how many times now he seemed to have experienced this same thing whilst sitting here at the Academy, watching as the people around him went from strangers, to classmates, to friends. He would even go so far as to call them ‘companions’ now.
Vaguely, a snippet of conversation he had overhead between Instructors Kingsfoot and Spinette flashed through his mind, during which the Halfling had been lecturing the much taller woman about ‘trauma bonding’ the students. Argent didn’t like the implications there and so quickly squashed the thought, pushing it from his mind and focusing instead on the conversation going around the table courtesy of Gauge.
“I still can’t believe you’d never taken anything but utilities before.”
The {Rogue} was saying to Matthias, in clear reference to their arts. After the second round of five shadow combat, both he and Matthias had been able to fill the nodes for new arts. Gauge had taken [Spirit Shot], which effectively permitted him to fire a single arrow as if he were channeling [Soul Weapon] without the prerequisite of keeping [Awakening] active. It was faster and far less draining for only a slight decrease in offensive output, making it incredibly worthwhile in the {Rogue}’s eyes.
Matthias had taken [Holy Bolt], and so in conjunction with Gauge’s new art they had massively increased the party’s firepower going forward. Once the {Priest} had gotten used to his new command, the added pressure he was able to provide when not occupied with support needs was a substantial contribution towards driving back the War Shadows. His classmates had encouraged him not to make a selection based on a situational element, considering that [Holy Bolt] was not particularly effective against targets that were non-dark and non-evil, but the ability fit Matthias’ niche well enough that he held no reservations about the choice.
“Honestly, it never bothered me before today.. But now that I've taken it, I can’t help but wonder what I was thinking. Offense may not be my priority, but it was a waste to not develop those pathways sooner.”
He ruminated with a subtle tone of regret. The node for [Holy Bolt] had opened up into a split branch once it had been filled, dramatically increasing his options for further arts.
“You had no way to know.” Gauge consoled him, patting the younger boy on the back.
“Besides, there’s nothing to prove those outcomes are fixed, either. For all we know, if you’d forced aether down those paths sooner, they may not have branched. It’s possible that waiting until now was to your benefit.”
Surprisingly enough, Argent found himself nodding in agreement with the {Rogue}’s assessment. As with so many details surrounding the development of arts, individual pathways, and the aether plane in general– much of it was dealt in theoreticals– There were rarely any absolutes to be had. To make things worse, even those few shreds of stability could fall under question depending on who you asked or what source you cited. For a world that was so heavily built upon the gifts and powers of the ‘System’, it was understood depressingly poorly.
“What did you get, Shizuka?”
The {Rogue} went on to ask, causing the bunny ears atop her head to perk. For a brief moment it seemed as though she might not answer, staring down at her teacup in silence, and Argent wondered if perhaps they weren’t being a touch too careless. While it was by no means taboo to discuss one’s abilities or ask about others, certain circles heavily encouraged secrecy or at the least privacy when it came to the matter. Information was power, after all. And on a more abstract level, in many ways, a person’s aether pathways were like the mapping of their soul.
“...[Natural Weapon].”
There was a visible reduction in tension around the table as she gave her answer, and in an instant the group was all smiles again.
“Hey, that’s a good one! Though don’t you already have [Iron Fist]?”
Seren chimed in, glancing over at the beastkin girl only briefly before taking a massive bite out of a gravy smothered pork chop. Shizuka nodded her head, taking a slow sip of tea before answering softly.
“I do, but their uses are different..”
“How so?”
The question came from Matthias, clearly intended to be a cordial and considerate attempt at progressing the conversation, though he quickly realized that keeping the talking going was the opposite of his intended courtesy when it came to Shizuka. He gave her an apologetic look as she sat quietly, searching for words.
“Ah, I’m sorry… I did not mean to press.”
There was embarrassment in his voice as he tried to withdraw, but the {Kunoichi} offered him a smile and a shake of her head.
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
“No need for apologies.. I can explain them.”
Shizu would go on to note that whilst [Iron Fist] and [Natural Weapon] were both physical arts focused on enhancing the body, their limiting factors and levels of channeling strength were variable from one another in distinctive ways. Namely, [Iron Fist] was what could be classified as a ‘Fortifying Art’. An ability that was largely inherent– passive almost– once it was obtained by someone with the physical aspect. While it could be activated in the moment for small boosts of power, its larger value was found in the lasting effects it granted the user’s body; increased bone density, improved musculature and vascularity, enhanced nervous response, and the like.
[Natural Weapon] was an active art, like most others, and required direct use in the desired moment. With the right practice it could be used to enhance any part of the user’s body to become as durable and lethal as steel, and could add slashing, piercing, or bludgeoning properties.
“If I learn to control it well, it will allow me to use my legs as blades.”
Well that was an absolutely terrifying thought. Argent already felt certain that Shizuka could have knocked any one of his extremities clean off his body if she targeted him with a full power kick, nevermind if the striking area of that kick was made comparable to the edge of a weapon. The conversation also left him with a pang of jealousy as the topic of fortifying arts was touched upon. The {Alchemist} would have traded an entire elemental path or even two for the chance at a few fortifiers, even if he understood full well how utterly shortsighted that was.
He couldn’t help it. It was a factor of performance which left him feeling as though he would always lag behind, no matter how much he trained or how well he ate, he would never stack up against someone with a solid foundation of fortifying arts. Not unless he gained access to such powerful enhancement spells that he could otherwise replicate the physical effects through outright buffs. Arts like [Haste], [Embolden], and [Amplify Self] would be the bare minimum, if not their higher tier variants. And if someone who already possessed fortifying arts was on the receiving end of those same buffs? Argent didn’t even want to think about it.
While he had been mulling all of that over, the conversation had proceeded around the group. Revealing that Seren had unlocked [Wind Wall] as her new art. Nobody wanted to be the one to ask if that decision had been made based on watching a certain {Alchemist} get turned into a pincushion, but the look on the dragonkin’s face made it clear enough.
Remelia had opted to take an improved version of what she referred to only as her ‘special skill’, drawing confusion and curiosity from the rest of her group.
“Ah! I’ve been wanting to ask about that, actually.” Argent imposed himself suddenly back into the thick of the dialogue.
“Is that what gives you your… I don’t know..." He hesitated, not exactly wanting to throw out the word 'emotionlessness'. "...Poise?”
The way Remelia looked at him showed that she wasn’t following the implication, but she offered a response nonetheless.
“It’s my family oath. What did Gramps call it…? A bloodline art.”
That made a lot of sense. Of course-- a Bloodline Art could be just about anything imaginable-- ranging from mundane to fantastical depending on the bloodline and the circumstances under which it was originally gained, but there was no question in Argent's mind that an art from the Lorian family would be insanely powerful... Unless it was from her father's side? She did have a different surname from the Grand Master after all, being the youngest daughter of his youngest daughter.
“Do you mind telling us what it’s called?”
“Mm-mm.. Let me see..” Remelia closed her eyes and breathed slowly for a few long moments, before looking back across the table at Argent.
“... [Sovereign Chivalry].”
Quite a name. Even if someone were to scry Remelia’s aether pathways and uncover it, there would be no way of ascertaining what it actually did. Of course, given the amount of time he had spent around Remelia, Argent felt as though he had an educated guess– but there was no certainty behind it. The {Rune-Knight} had quietly and happily returned to eating however, and any further prying seemed uncouth.
“What about you, Argent?”
“Oh, I took [Flamethrower].”
The {Alchemist} responded to Gauge’s inquiry, realizing that he was the last one to reveal his selection. He had debated heavily on the choice, extremely tempted to take the node which had previously revealed itself after he learned [Lesser Barrier]; [Reshape Matter]. Ultimately his decision had been made based on the reminder that he was training largely to improve his combat performance for the upcoming field exercise, and so as tempting as the Creation based art had been, he had sidelined it for the time being in favour of the more offensive option. Furthering that particular elemental path had revealed the node for [Immolation Armour], which certainly held appeal as a later choice.
“You have shells that already do that, though.” Gauge pointed out in regards to [Flamethrower]'s acquisition.
“True, but once I run out of those, that's it.”
“You can run out of arts capacity, too.” Seren countered.
“Yes, but I can regain that over time in the field. Replenish it with food, rest, and potions; Much easier than I could make new shells, at least. Not to mention this way I can also transcribe scrolls.”
“That’s a good point. Your scrolls are really useful, damn near saved our ass in the forest–”
Gauge promptly bit his tongue, cutting what he was saying short as the entire table stared at him with expectant curiosity. Nobody but Izadura and Kotomi– and most likely Naiara, if they were being honest– knew about their little foray into the forests bordering Thrylld.
Which had been entirely unauthorized and fully against regulations.
Argent attempted to will the words into Gauge’s head as he glared at the {Rogue}, but they were given a convenient distraction in the next few moments, as no sooner than the class president had crossed his mind did Naiara suddenly appear. It had to be some sort of black magick.
Granted, it was the end of Sunday evening and soon the weekly class schedule would start anew. It made sense for her to show up again now, returned from whatever matters kept her away so often. She looked tired, which despite her constant business was unusual for her. In a skillful motion she hooked a nearby chair with her foot and swept it acrost the aisle, pushing it into place at the group's table and dropping onto it beside Shizuka.
“Nice to see you’ve been industrious with your weekend.”
She noted with sincerity, though Argent still questioned how she always seemed to know when they’d been up to something. He swallowed the question immediately when she looked up directly at him.
“Oh, and happy birthday, Argent.”
He and Naiara both blinked as a collective groan went up from the table.
“Naiara! We’ve been trying to keep that under wraps ALL WEEKEND.” Seren positively seethed.
The {Alchemist} actually had to think about the revelation for a moment, but it was true. His birthday had been on friday! He hadn’t made much of the day during the years that passed since he had left home, and between friday being a normal core day followed by the mindbreak Instructor Heiran had subjected him to on Saturday, the notion had entirely slipped his mind. But there it was. Just like that, he was seventeen-- two days past it even.
“I spent half of Saturday staking out his room to see when he’d come out.” Gauge groaned, slumping back in his chair at the thought.
“But he stayed in there all day, and when he did run out, he disappeared into the lecture hall and never came back!”
“Wait, so that WAS you I kept hearing pacing in the hallway?” Argent accused, remembering the eerie feeling of someone lurking nearby which had pulled at him most of Saturday afternoon.
“Yes!”
“We’ve been trying all weekend to get you away so we could set something up, just a small surprise, but by the time we got a hold of you today.. Well, you know how it went.”
Argent suddenly felt guilty. Touched, and happy, but guilty.
“Oh, you guys.. That’s.. Spending the day with me was more than enough.” It sounded cliche, but he meant it.
“Today was a great day.”
His classmates around the table smiled, but Shizuka still reached down to bring up a small leather pouch. It was imprinted with the emblem of a tree and had been restrung with a thick golden thread, and after a moment Argent recognized it as the pouch from the first dungeon that Gauge, Shizuka and he had delved during their initial exam. The one he had almost drowned for. It had been touched up at the seams and retreated with fresh oil, but it was definitely the same.
“It’s nothing much, but we all got you a little something.”
“Plus we divvied up the loot from today, and gave you most of it!” Seren added with a grin.
“Be grateful!”
“Seren.”
“Erm.. I mean, happy birthday!”
The gift was passed acrost the table to Argent, and he couldn’t contain his smile. An emotion welled in his chest, threatening to overtake him for a moment as he gently pulled the drawstring to examine the contents. There were a few potions, some expensive herbs, what looked to be shards of argonite, a tightly bound scroll and a small copper ring printed with vinework.
“You guys, thank you so much. I am grateful.” He breathed, gently pulling the drawstring tight again.
“Don’t thank us too much. We all know full well that more than half of that stuff will probably be put back into us, during Instructor Spinette’s upcoming field trip.”
Argent laughed at the {Rogue}’s words, even though he knew they weren’t actually a joke. It still just felt nice. The gesture was warm and genuine, and even if he spent every item he owned on his classmates, Argent would never regret it. He was an {Alchemist} after all. There was no greater source of pride than having his creations used by others-- especially those who adventured alongside him.
“Don’t you worry about that, I’ve been prepping.”
“Oh, we know. Just don’t ‘prep’ yourself into an early grave, alright? Whatever you were doing yesterday really beat the hell out of you.”
The {Alchemist} could only smile, more than a little confident that what he had experienced yesterday could only be a one-time thing… And he had come to terms with it.
“I’ll be alright.”