“She was an absolute force of nature, even before she got her first true enchantment. I’m terrified of her, and I’m her friend. I can’t imagine what she’s like as an enemy.”

- Lysandra Starleaf, concerning Gwynneth, The Red Forge, Ironfist

I got to my room and double checked the scrawled parchment. To the right of the door frame was etched three numbers.

“517, alright,” I muttered to the largely empty hallway. I took in a deep breath and approached the door. The second I placed my hand on the brass doorknob, the thin piece of paper burst into flames. I yelped slightly and looked around to see if anyone had noticed. If they had, they ignored me. Cheeks flushed, I quickly entered the room. I felt a barrier of magic pass over me, and goosebumps rose across the back of my neck as I noticed its subtle probing against my mind. It was still a new sensation for me to have my aura recorded, but I figured it was about time I got over that apparently ubiquitous experience. The gateway that led into the Hunter Academy had done so, and now this door.

I scanned the sparse room dimly lit by four everglow enchantments set into the corners of the dorm. A long and narrow bed was adjacent to a surprisingly sturdy desk, which, in turn, was beside an armoire. Each piece of furniture was utilitarian and showed the marks of many previous owners. Still, the place was pristine and spacious enough to comfortably seat at least a few guests.

Not that I expected to have any.

I sighed and looked around for the dial that controlled the light runes set into small crystals. After a moment, I found it and toyed with the enchantment until the light was dim and warm—just how I liked it. I seriously could not understand what sort of masochists preferred bright and cool lighting to study and relax in.

I threw my pack onto the bed and closed the door. The ward sealed shut and I examined the runes involved. I only recognized a few, but I was fairly sure they were basic, if effective, protection and sound dampening wards, though I had no idea which direction they went. I shrugged, determined to find a book on runes the first chance I had. My family could never afford such a luxury, especially as none of us were enchanters. But now, as an Orion, the hunter library was mine for the taking. I nearly choked on the giggle that bubbled up my throat.

“Books,” I nearly groaned. Disciplining myself, I stayed in my room for the rest of the night with the promise I would explore the legendary collection of books tomorrow.

***

I sprinted through the hallway, convinced that death approached on my heels. I took a corner without slowing and had to push against a thick pillar in order not to crash. My chest heaved as what remained of my breath abandoned what little reserves I had.

I am so dead!

I leapt off the pillar and narrowly avoided a collision with a couple of first-years like me. All of them wore the same uniforms like the one I had. It appeared in my armoire this morning, and fit perfectly. It was just another sign of how woefully ignorant I was of what magic could actually do. The other cadets cursed as I dodged past them and raced into the large entrance set into the wide hallway. Statues of former Orions and other significant figures lined the corridor, but I ignored them all as I entered the spacious room.

Desks that sat two cadets each were lined up in neat rows throughout the lecture hall. Nearly every single seat was filled already, and my sudden appearance drew all of their eyes. I straightened and nodded once, determined not to show my embarrassment or fear. I checked the front of the room and my worst nightmare was ripped into vapor. I sighed.

I wasn’t late.

“Oy, find a seat a’fore the teacher shows, or we’ll all take a beating!” One of the cadets called out and a couple others laughed at my expense. My eyes scanned for a seat and I noticed a young female elf sitting alone. Tentatively, I approached her.

“Hey, can I sit here?” I whispered.

“I think I might gag if you step any closer. You smell like monster shit and look even worse,” she responded with her right lip curled. She stared me down like I was some undead abomination, and I felt my internal hackles rise at her words.

“Fine,” I muttered under my breath, but I felt my cheeks betray me once again as they flushed a deep crimson. Still, I stood tall and glanced at one of the empty desks near the back. I walked briskly to it and sat down with a sigh. A burly boy got up immediately from a few tables away and beelined for me.

Two fists slammed into my desk, and I jolted upright by the sheer force behind the action. Thick forearms greeted my vision, and my vision slowly crept upward toward the boy looming over me.

“Thea, right?” He demanded. His tone was anything but friendly.

“Rude,” I spit back.

“You dare speak to your betters like that?” He looked behind himself to where I saw a few of the royal entourage seated. In the center of them, Prince James looked on with nonchalant amusement.

“You didn’t even introduce yourself, and I’m not in the mood to get interrogated by some jerk who can’t even show the decency of talking to me like a normal person.” My voice held firm, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was making some sort of big mistake. The boy leaned in closer until I could smell his breath.

“You vicious little bitch. Give us back what you stole, and we might forgive you,” he promised, but I could tell from his eyes that his vow was as hollow as words.

“I didn’t steal anything!” My voice grew louder and a couple of students who pretended to not be paying attention disregarded the illusion and turned toward me. Inwardly, I groaned. This was not how I wanted my first class to go.

“Your right wrist would say otherwise. You have the gall to wear the Duke’s memorabilia in public? You are as dumb as you are weak.” He stood to his full height, and I noticed two indents on the desk from where his fists vacated. “I challenge you, Thea, to a duel! For the Duke’s honor and legacy, I demand your answer!”

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Every head turned.

“Well?!” He snarled down at me. My heart raced as I tried to figure out what the hells was going on, and how I could get out of it. I had no idea how duels worked, or if they were even allowed between cadets.

A small hand poked the large boy in the waist. He didn’t budge. The hand shot forward and poked even harder, this time against a nerve. He jumped with surprise and pain, his hand raised to strike. Behind him, a short dwarven girl stood patiently.

“You are in my way,” she said smoothly. No fear. No concern. Just a calm disregard of the mountain of the man in front of her.

“WHAT?!” he seethed.

“You are in my way. This is my desk. Move, please, or I will cut my way through you.” Her voice didn’t shift in the slightest as I saw her threaten the human. Around us, the cadets gasped with horror and shock at the dwarven girl’s gall.

“You threaten me, Peitrich Rinfall of the Rinfall house?” He requested haughtily, just as taken aback as I was. He yelled with pain as another finger poked him again, this time in the other leg. When I looked back, the girl was already turning around the table and pulled out the chair next to mine.

“I am Gwynneth Ironfist. I like you. Let’s be friends,” she said to me in the same casual tone she’d used a second ago.

“Thea. Thea Shade. Nice to meet you,” I answered numbly.

“Cadets! To your seats!” A loud voice boomed from the front of the room. We all turned, Peitrich practically whirling on his heels as he stood to face whoever had interrupted him again.

“One moment, sir,” the young noble in front of my table requested as he turned back to me.

“It was not a request, cadet,” the professor intoned dangerously. He was a tall elf whose gray hair fell loosely across his back and over his blue and black uniform. From the thin glow of magic across his unique leather armor, and the twin rapiers that adorned his belt, he looked ready for battle at a moment’s notice.

“I said one moment. I have to address these insubordinates,” Peitrich called back without looking at the elf. “They need to be put in their place.”

“I agree,” the elven professor replied coldly. “Insubordinates should be put in their place.”

A blur, followed by a scream, was all I could observe before the professor was behind the muscular boy. Peitrich bled from both armpits and his limbs fell uselessly by his sides. He sagged to the ground and tendrils of blood dripped past his uniform and onto the marbled floor.

“Interrupt my class again, or insult my command, and I will not be so lenient. Is that understood?” The elf calmly cleaned his two swords on the boy’s pant leg before he strode slowly back to the podium in front of the class. Peitrich whimpered something incoherent.

“I said, is that understood?!” The elf demanded of the fallen cadet.

“Yes, sir!” He shouted out between wracking sobs. One of the students, likely one of the noble’s allies, quietly got up and headed toward the man on the ground before me and a silent Gwynneth. The girl only stared briefly at the bleeding man before her attention returned dutifully to the front.

What kind of place is this? I asked myself in panic. My heart wouldn’t slow.

“Did I say that you could leave your desk, cadet?” The elf demanded of the young woman who snuck toward Peitrich.

“Uhh, no sir!” She squeaked. I watched in a strange mix of apprehension and satisfaction as yet another noble was put under the ire of someone more powerful than them.

“Correct. Return to your seat. If the boy wishes to return to his seat or seek medical attention, it is on his shoulders to do so. We do not train cowards or weaklings. If you cannot stand alone, you cannot stand at all.” The elderly elf reached the podium and turned to address all of us. Peitrich, for his part, gave me one last glare that promised all of the violence in the known world. Then, with grunts of effort, he managed to get to his feet unsteadily and headed for the door.

No one spoke. Two thin trails of blood followed the boy out and into the hallway.

“Let this serve as a reminder to all of you. There are no ranks here. No amount of political connections will rescue you while a cadet within these walls. We will not offer any of you special favor just because of where you were born, or to whom you were born to. Monsters do not care about your lineage, and neither do we. There are only the strong and those too weak to make the climb to power.”

His silver eyes landed on me. They were as cold and piercing as the steel blades he’d just used on one of his own students.

“We don’t have time for weaklings. Is that understood?”

A chorus of ‘yes, sirs!’ rang out, and I joined them quickly. His gaze lingered for a moment longer before he turned to the chalkboard behind him.

“Now, does anyone know how enchantments are made?” Several hands raised into the air, and I felt a wave of relief as class began.

“You.” He pointed to the elven girl that had rejected my request to share her desk a minute ago. She seemed far less confident now.

“Enchantments are made from harnessing the magic of monsters with runes,” she answered demurely.

“Close, but incomplete. Does anyone know why?” He waited but no one either had the confidence or the right answer. For me, I was absolutely clueless. I knew about as much as that girl’s answer, but that’s where my knowledge stopped. The elf sighed dramatically and he turned to write on the chalkboard.

“It is my duty to instruct all of you in the origins and history of enchantments in the futile hope that at least one of you will rise above the fodder and become someone worth documenting. You will rise or fall on the strength of your will and the cunning of your mind. Our past is clear about this above all else: we are not the strongest creatures on Eridia. We are not the fastest. We are the most clever. The most ruthless. The most willing to outsmart, out strategize, and outthink our enemies. We will steal what powers they possess and stand atop their corpses as we rise to the heavens!”

As he said all of this, he wrote out two words in three different languages. I recognized and easily translated each of them, impressed by his ability to multitask so easily. He wrote:

Professor Brayborrow

It was first in the common language of Valorian, then in the trade languages of the elves and then the dwarfs. He intentionally left out the guttural tongue of the orcs in the north, as well as whatever the tieflings spoke. Of the five races, the least was known about their culture and languages, as scholars didn’t last long amongst their war-driven ranks.

“To flesh out your woefully simple answer, girl,” Professor Brayborrow explained with a raised eyebrow as he turned back to us. “We are not merely harnessing the magic left behind by monsters. No, we are harnessing their connection to magic. They are not the origin of their powers, but merely their conduits.”

I began to take frantic notes in my issued journal as he continued.

“All monsters share some form of connection to the ambient energy of Eridia. When we slay them and harvest their attuned parts, we are able to tap into that connection via runes. It is a vital distinction, as it means that once taken, we are the rightful owners of those powers. Eridia doesn’t care who uses her powers, only that the strongest do.”

He sighed dramatically and leaned his calloused hands against the wooden podium.

“Any of you useless halfwits know the various classes of monsters and enchantments?”