“Enchantments are the only reason the five sapient races haven’t been ground into paste for monster hatchlings to snack on.”

- Professor Edgelin Brayborrow (notated by Thea Shade)

“There are common, uncommon, rare, epic, mythic, and the majestic god-beasts, sir!” A very hyper and enthusiastic young man called out. He wore a strange shawl that I was fairly sure was a violation of the dress code, but Professor Brayborrow didn’t call it out at all. If anything, he seemed resigned to let this particular cadet answer at all.

“And the corresponding enchantment tiers?” Our instructor asked in a drawl.

“There’s novice, apprentice, journeyman, master, and grandmaster enchantments, sir!”

“The differences?”

“Well,” the young man with sturdy but lean shoulders and closely cropped black hair answered. “There’s no direct correlation between the grade and quality of the monster and the enchantment. They only start to matter when you want to make anything beyond a journeyman tier enchantment. You need higher quality monster parts to effectively craft anything past that point. But the enchantment level has everything to do with the enchanter’s ingenuity and skill. A grandmaster could forge something incredible from a common-tier monster, but an apprentice enchanter couldn’t do much with a mythical monster part.”

“Surprisingly thorough, boy. What’s your name?” The professor asked.

“I am Elio Swiftshadow, humble disciple of the great Shadowlord, sir!” The man responded cheerily. I heard a few groans from around the room, but couldn’t figure out why. I had no idea who or what a shadow lord was, but this guy clearly believed it was a huge honor.

“Ah,” the elf teacher responded in disappointment. “One of your lot. That explains that ungodly shawl. A shame, really. Your mind seems to be barely sharper than that of your cohort.”

The elf turned back to the chalkboard and started to draw a diagram that depicted the various monster tiers and enchantment grades. I copied all of it, an eager gleam in my eye that didn’t go unnoticed.

“You seem thirsty,” my deskmate whispered.

“Huh?” I looked up from my parchment in a daze.

“You have not stopped writing for the whole time he speaks. I am impressed with stamina,” She answered in a clipped but kind tone. Well, I thought it was kind. It was hard to tell with her ever-present calm mask as she patiently sat there. She didn’t write a single thing down. Now that I looked her over, I noticed she didn’t have a single book or journal with her.

“Uhh, yeah. This is all new to me. I want to know it all, you know?” I answered meekly.

“I do,” was her only response. I frowned.

What is with this girl?

Before I knew it, the class was dismissed. We were required to draft an essay on at least three famous enchantments that we could find in the library and everything concerning their origin and enchanter.

I couldn’t wait.

I packed my bag with the various books I’d brought with me and headed out of the classroom. My mind was abuzz with excitement. Someone grabbed my elbow and pulled me to the side of the hallway. I yelped in surprise and saw that it was Gwynneth.

“Someone watches,” she whispered calmly, but her movements were far less relaxed. She yanked me into a side corridor and I felt a strange sense of relief. A pressure I hadn’t noticed just a moment ago alleviated and I breathed out.

“What was that?” I asked my strange friend.

“I don’t know. Someone had their gaze on you. It had the feel of a predator, so I removed you from their sights. Be careful, Thea Shade. Only someone powerful could harness such a dangerous enchantment.” Gwynneth pulled away from me and started to walk back like nothing had happened.

“Wait, what?” I called after her, but she was already gone by the time I turned the corner. “What the hell?” I asked no one in particular. I felt a pang of panic when the pressure returned, though it was only there for a moment. The blood turned cold in my veins, and it was all I could do not to turn and run.

Gwynneth was right. Something dangerous watched me.

As surreptitiously as I could, I glanced around for who it might be, but I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. I clutched the straps to my pack tighter, the steel bracelet on my wrist a welcome comfort as I trudged behind my classmates. It wasn’t until I entered the next classroom that I finally felt a modicum of safety return to my environment.

I walked in and found a seat. Unlike Professor Brayborrow’s classroom, these were individual desks, though no less posh. Fancy gemstones, exotic monster parts behind warded cases, and other strange artifacts. This warmly lit chamber felt like a shrine to all things monster.

“Qu—qu—quiet, please, students,” a frail and timid voice tried to speak up over the general chatter. The female voice failed miserably. “Pu—pu—please, cadets. Find a s—s–ss—seat and we will begin.” A few people heard her this time, and I watched with mystified awe as most ignored the tiny figure as she tried to corral the comparatively gargantuan cadets.

She wore the purple uniform lined with blue filigree that marked her as a Harvester professor. I was a bit surprised that someone besides an Orion was going to teach this class, but it made a certain amount of sense that a specialist on monster part acquisitions would teach the class entitled: Introduction to Monster Anatomy.

“I find it odd that the Valorian branch is so generous with what it deems as worthy of its tutelage. We are such a…diverse branch, are we not?” I turned and saw Prince James with his feet on his desk. “What do you think, Christopher?”

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“I—I’m not sure, your Majesty,” Charlie replied meekly. My fists tightened against the quill I held in my hand, and I nearly snapped the enchanted item in half. My bracelet hummed in response to my anger slightly, but I didn’t have time to register that as the professor stood atop her lectern.

“Please, cadets, I—I—II—I must request you sit and be quiet,” the small dwarf requested softly. I took her in fully now. Even for dwarves, she was quite small. She had long dark hair pulled back in a tight bun, and thick spectacles atop her freckled nose. I was about to speak up to help her out, but someone beat me to it.

“Truly, Chris? Don’t you find it strange that so many take our generosity as some form of birthright? When it is, in fact, by our goodwill that dirt dwellers and savages gain entry to our benevolent kingdom? It’s just like you told me earlier. Some don’t know their place, now do they, Chris?” Prince James inquired loudly. He never acknowledged the vain attempts of the professor, but at his racial slur, all of the dwarves in the room bristled. I noticed that even Gwynneth, who sat three desks to my right, also reacted.

“Shut up before you get your tongue cut out,” A voice that cut through the noise like a hot dagger called out. I turned to see the tiefling lean back against his chair, his eyes never leaving the Valorian prince.

“Ahh, the savage can speak! Who knew it was capable of such mediocre intelligence. Tell me, bastard of heaven’s know what unlucky beast your father bedded, what do you think happens when our benevolence runs dry?”

Silence.

“I won’t ask again. Show our professor the respect she deserves, or you’ll find out how quickly goodwill dies in front of the professors. And never threaten a Harvester or you’ll find all your food poisoned and your bed filled with monster shit. Trust me.”

“What would someone with a broken crown like you even know about the divisions of the hunters?” Prince James demanded a bit more heatedly.

“I pay attention, as should you.” The two of them stared each other down, and I could practically feel the mental daggers thrown between the two of them.

“Th—thank you, Azuris,” the feeble dwarf said after a moment of tense silence. “The young tiefling is correct. I am a harvester, but have been an instructor for the Orion division since I helped acquire the dawnwraith’s core.”

Silence of a different sort swept through the crowd, and I hid my grin as even Prince James realized his error. Only one person had slain a dawn wyrm, which meant only one person had assigned this timid dwarf to her esteemed position.

His grandfather.

“My apologies, professor,” Prince James ground out reluctantly.

“Quite alright, Prince James,” she responded way too easily, as if she was used to getting walked over. “My name is—is—professor Rachele Mitterbug. I will t—t—t—teach you all about the essentials of monster anatomy. You must know how they are made in order to best kill them, isn’t that right?” She asked the gathered cadets with a small smile.

The mood in the room changed instantly. Suddenly, every cadet was focused on her every word. They realized the same truth that I had when I saw this class listed: she was our ticket to power.

“Now, does anyone know what parts of a monster are extracted upon its demise?” Professor Mitterbug asked the gathered students. I picked up on how she was in far more familiar territory now. I wracked my brain, and tentatively raised my hand. Prince James also raised his arm, but it was obvious even to the most inept social observer that he intended to disrupt the class. Thankfully, our instructor ignored him.

“You,” Mitterbug gestured in my direction. I glanced around to make sure I was right, and then stood up to answer.

“Um, when a monster dies, some of its body parts retain an attunement for their magic. It’s usually a claw or a tooth or something the beast channeled a lot of magic through while it was alive.” I took in a breath and continued when the short professor nodded along with my answer patiently. “I think that the attuned monster parts glow slightly, and that’s what Harvesters look for?”

There were some mutters of derision around the room, but Mitterbug only smiled.

“That is right. Name?”

“Uh, Thea. Thea Shade,” I answered quickly. The dwarf gave me an odd look, but then shook her head suddenly and gestured for me to sit. My butt was in the chair before she uttered another word.

“Never doing that again,” I promised myself as the other cadets laughed at my embarrassment.

“Cadet Shade is correct, for the most part. Monsters have an inherent connection to the world, as I am su—su—sure Professor Brayborrow wasted no time before explaining.” She smiled conspiratorially at us. “He has quite a f–ff–fffew theories as to why, but I will leave that for him to tell you.” The spectacled instructor started to walk along the dais in front of her podium as she lectured. I wrote down everything, eager to figure out how to use this knowledge to my advantage.

“Monsters channel the magic of Eridia. They are not keepers of that magic, but conduits. They do, however, tend to leave that connection behind when they perish. We can acquire those attuned pieces of their person and use them to establish a permanent connection with that field of magic.” Professor Mitterbug stopped her pacing and turned to address us.

“Does anyone kn-kn—know how long before a monster’s attuned body parts expire?”

Several hands were raised and a familiar elf that I recognized from before the entrance exam was amongst them.

“Yes?”

“Lysandra, Starleaf, Ma’am. Attuned monster parts can only last thirty seven hours or so before what magic they contained dissipates. That’s why people of your profession must prioritize expediency above all else. There are ways to prolong that with certain enchantments, but all of them have their risks. The best are time capsules, but those require a chrono-affinity, which are extremely rare. It’s best to just get the monster part to an enchanter for a transfusion or direct enchantment. Either will cement the magic and prevent it from escaping.”

I looked up from my frantic notetaking and stared at the wiry elf. She spoke barely louder than a whisper, but it was clear she was passionate about this topic. I added a note to the top of my journal with her name. She might prove useful as a resource.

“Thank you, cadet Starleaf. That was quite the detailed response. Well done.” At her words, Lysandra merely nodded once and then slunk back into her chair in much the same fashion I had. Professor Mitterbug didn’t linger and instead continued with her lecture.

“In this course, we will go over every class of monster known to reside both around Halistair and in the wild's connection to our institute.” I lifted my head again as several students started to whisper excitedly.

“Yes, that is—is–sss correct. I shall give you all information we have on the monsters you will face there,” Mitterbug offered. I desperately hoped someone would ask what she was talking about, and I was saved before having to brave the classroom’s attention again.

“Excuse me, ma’am?” A burly dwarf near the front row inquired. “Did you say that we’re actually going in there?”

“Oh!” The professor exclaimed in genuine surprise. “They di—didn’t inform you all? The winter solstice marks when each of you must brave the wilds and acquire your first monster part for enchantment.”

I nearly dropped my pen.

Sweat formed along the creases of my palms at her casual omen.

“I didn’t know we had to kill a monster in just a few months after enlisting!” I hissed into my journal, dumbstruck. The reality of my situation started to finally settle in.

I was an Orion. I would have to kill monsters just to survive.

“Don’t look s–s–ss–so worried, children. You will be teamed up in groups of five!”

I groaned. I didn’t have one friend now, much less five. There was no doubt in my mind.

I was going to die in three months.