Ivory looked back and forward—and back again—many times, trying to comprehend what had happened. That tea… had he been drugged, after all? Ivory whipped around and looked at Hidenori, who had a passive grin on his face. He knew that nothing malicious had transpired, but there were far too many unknowns at play for Ivory’s liking. He was hesitant to arc up for this reason—as well as not wanting to breach any formalities.

“Please explain,” is all Ivory said.

“What you experienced was a brief period of Enlightenment. [Monks], [Abbots], [Ascetics] seek Enlightenment to become [Buddhas], the apex of their class. An [Archmage] is to a [Mage], what a [Buddha] is to a [Monk], though I fear each group would not appreciate the comparison. Some nine years back, I woke suddenly to find my Skill had changed. It is my belief that the [Ascetic] of my youth had become a [Buddha], but one must let sleeping Ki’rin lie, as it is said.” Ivory knew the concept, but it still didn’t really answer his question.

“But why aren’t I hungry? Or tired?”

“Being Enlightened is to throw off those shackles of mortality. Please be aware that no ripples in time occurred; Chronomancy is not an art lightly evoked.”

Time magic? Ivory didn’t want to fuck with that, and was glad at Hidenori’s words.

“One should not seek to know all truths in life, Ivory. Leave that to the [聖人]—the [Sage]. To experience the new is to live life to the fullest. Is that not why you wished to travel, Ivory?”

He’s got me, Ivory thought, and Hidenori could see that thought on his face. This wasn’t even an unwelcome experience. He’d skipped god knows how many days—weeks?—at sea, and had what was probably a once in a lifetime experience.

The ship slowed down significantly as it drew nearer to dry land. Ivory went to the very front of the ship to get a better look at the land he would soon touch down on.

It still looked to be a kilometre or so off, and all Ivory could really see was a beach and some really high trees.

“Where are we going to dock?” Ivory asked. Something told him Hidenori wasn’t just going to anchor at some rando beach.

“Once we get closer, we will circle the island until we arrive at the local port. This is one of our smaller islands; you may find it lacking compared to Pheislant’s. Ah, now would be a good time to tell you about my home—出島. It does not have a name in your language, but perhaps if I say it slowly…? 出島."

“Dejima?”

“Yes. For simplicity’s sake, I will pronounce it as you do. Dejima is, as I have said, a small island. Its pride comes from the [Diplomats] we train at our… I apologise once again; I am not sure how to translate the word, as I seldom speak of home when I travel. Nor do I want for [Translation] scrolls, as I am mostly fluent. Centres of learning? Schools? Do you understand my meaning?”

So, basically a university or college. Interesting. Ivory didn’t know if that verbiage was used in this world, so he defaulted to what he knew.

“Yeah, I get you, like an academy. Go on, please.”

“All sorts come to Drath to learn our ways—[Warriors], [Mages], [Chefs]—however Dejima seldom sees travellers. I am, you could say, in charge of trade for Dejima, which operates on a relatively small scale. No two islands are alike in Drath, but there is a commonality of culture—you will not be without inspiration you desire, you have my word. While we are not famed for our magic, Dejima’s [Onmyouji] and [Summoners] are proud of their crafts.”

Ivory was starting to get excited, now. The reality was starting to hit him—he was here!

“We should reach our destination shortly. I have organised for one who is undergoing Dejima’s tutelage to show you around, to be your guide for your stay.”

“A [Diplomat]?”

“He may well choose that path, as many who study at our academy do, but that is merely Dejima’s speciality. The choice is the individual’s. He may be a [Healer], [Courier], [Craftsman], [Warrior] or anything else—all of which is offered as study. Those who attend are taught the common language, so treat him well; it is as much of an opportunity for you as it is for him. Ah, here we are.”

Ivory turned around and saw a quaint scene—at the docks, there was room for perhaps four or five boats, which spoke to what Hidenori had said before. There was not a fishy smell in the air, and there weren’t any warehouses or anything that he expected to see.

“Wow, okay,” he muttered. It looked like something out of a Studio Ghibli film—his main frame of reference for ‘rural’ Japanese towns. There was a large red Torii gate in the distance, with a winding road with scattered settlements alongside. They ranged from what Ivory would consider ‘modern’ houses and some that resembled miniature shrines. Shrines to what, Ivory wondered, as apparently ‘the gods were dead’, but you didn’t necessarily have to have a shrine for religious purposes, really.

It was, regardless, picturesque. Ivory snapped back to reality and followed Hidenori steadily down the gangplank. He almost fell in when he saw a gigantic blue bird walking towards Hidenori, and it bowed to him. It reminded him of the videos he had seen of those deer in Japan that would bow at tourists for food. Ivory approached Hidenori, who had just bowed back to the bird. Formality, even to the fauna!

“That’s a cool bird. Would it peck me if I tried to pat it?”

“Hello, Ivory Henderson. I am Nozumu, a Peacock Beastkin.”

Ivory’s eyes snapped open in shock. Almost like out of a movie, Ivory slowly turned to his right to face Nozumu. He had a ridiculous, shocked grin that made the sides of his mouth twitch. It was unnatural. His head flicked to face Hidenori, who had a sliver of amusement on his lips.

“It appears that our foreign friend has not yet met a Beastkin. Nozumu, I ask that you not hold it against him.”

Nozumu laughed nervously, clearly uncomfortable at being thought of as not even the animal that he ‘took’ after, but just… a bird.

“It is not something that I have experienced.”

Ivory was mortified. Simply mortified.

“I’m so sorry Nozumu! You—” Ivory almost said ‘you really do look like a bird’ but stopped himself—“I have nothing to say for myself. You said you were a Peacock Beastkin…?”

“That is right.”

The two just looked at each other. Ivory expected him to elaborate, but he realised that this probably wasn’t too an abnormal sight here. He turned to Hidenori.

“Um, where can I find you again, Hidenori?”

“I shall be here, on my ship. I am not due to depart for some time. It was a pleasure getting to know you.” Hidenori made a comment in his native tongue to Nozumu before departing.

“See you! Thanks!” Ivory called out nervously, as Hidenori returned to his ship. He turned back to Nozumu, red faced. Now that he was aware of what he was looking at, it really did just look like an anthropomorphised peacock. Nozumu stood at around five foot six, and all of his feathers were a rich, deep blue. His hands had four ‘fingers’, each a talon in their own right, and his feet were likewise. His beak was a pale white, and his crest was the same rich blue, but was combed back and held in place with a pale pink flower pin. He wore a waist-length mossy green stole that was clipped together at the waist, which then formed a sort of modesty flap that covered most of his lower half. Ivory could not see the thing that made peacocks distinct, and felt that it would have added to his rudeness to ask where it was.

Ivory and Nozumu looked at each other wordlessly for far too long. After about the tenth second, Ivory realised that Nozumu was probably in a similar situation to him. He decided to break the ice.

"Uhm. So I'm Ivory, as you know. How are you going?" Ivory saw a bead of sweat on the top of his beak. Nozumu blinked a few times and his beak opened and closed and closed a few times, before responding.

"I do not know how to answer that question."

Ivory raised an eyebrow and then realised—this was pretty informal English!

"Like, 'how do you'?"

"Ah! I am doing well. Thank you for asking."

Ivory understood the situation now. Nozumu may well be speaking this language—he made a mental note not to refer to English as, well, English, to himself—to someone other than his [Teacher] or [Tutor]. [Sensei]? Ivory, ever the saint, decided to abandon formalities so that he may get accustomed to the language better.

"Is this your first time speaking to a foreigner in this language?"

"Yes. It is. Learning from books and my seniors is different from reality."

"Um. If it helps, you don't have to speak so formally if it helps. Not that that's a bad thing! But I imagine this would help learning the language, right?"

It was difficult for a 'bird' to smile, but Ivory got the feeling that he was smiling.

"If we were speaking in Drathian, I could. I would not know how to speak informally."

"Well then! Maybe you'll pick up a thing or two when you're showing me around!"

"Pick up…?"

"Aha. Like, understand. You aren't actually picking something up; you're learning something." The Beastkin was definitely smiling this time.

“Very good!”

There was something especially funny about a humanoid peacock being visibly perked up at the prospect of improving his language, and using such an… out of place exclamation?

“I have to ask… you’re a Peacock Beastkin, but you don’t have a tail?” Ivory couldn’t help but ask. It was, he’d say, the most defining feature of a peacock. Nozumu, unphased by the question, tugged at something in his feathers near his left armpit.

Suddenly, a thick bundle of feathers appeared, being held against his body by his armpit, and extending about a foot above his head. Nozumu’s feather train was a mesmerising ocean-green; the tail feathers visible at the top of the train were violet-tipped. Nozumu lifted his arm and the train methodically whipped back behind him like a tail (which it was!), now slightly more free, as if the invisible hand that had gripped it had tightened its grip. He fanned his train out, making the plumage display which peacocks are famous for. It was…

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

Stunning.

The plumage display extended for a little over two metres around him, at a full 180 degree radius. The green feathers would have been a natural fit for that Enlightened state of Hidenori’s. The violent ends of the feathers were surprisingly quite salient; they almost acted as a kind of “feathers end here” marker. Most surprising of all were the ‘eyes’ of each feather. The outer area was a brick-orange, and the inner iris was the most dull of greys, as if the eye was shut, or blind. There were no deep viridians or luscious crimsons. Ivory realised his jaw was almost on the ground and quickly shut it. Nozumu’s tail feathers suddenly whipped back into one big bundle and it threaded itself back up his body, through his armpit and up by his head. He fiddled with something in the feathers and it disappeared suddenly.

“Do you understand why I do not display it?” It wasn’t even a question at this point. Even the most dim-witted fools would be able to see how ridiculously inconvenient it was. Obviously, it wouldn’t be fanned out all the time, but the damn thing was long.

“Entering houses would be… difficult.” Nozumu sighed.

“No, that is not too difficult. Peacock Beastkin are uncommon for Beastkin. Many Humans have your reaction, and wish to see it. I have a Skill which hides it. Many Humans understand that if they cannot see it, I do not want to show them.” Ivory didn’t want to say “well, it’d still hit the ceiling”—which he certainly thought—as that would have crossed the line from being rude to being insulting, to question what he does with what is essentially another limb. “He’s probably ‘right,” he thought.

“Let us walk into the town,” Nozumu said. He turned around and started walking down the smooth, rocky path. Ivory followed, and as he was catching up, Ivory couldn't see any evidence that he even had any tail feathers. That Skill was good.

“What has brought you to Drath?” Nozumu cooed.

“Oh, I never said. I’m a [Sorcerer], and want to learn new stuff.”

Nozumu took a few seconds to digest that before replying.

“Drathian magic would be quite peculiar to you. I can understand wanting to learn it.”

“Honestly, I don’t really know what it is. I know there’s magic scrolls, spirits and, like, sealing magic… but that’s why I’m here, to figure it out!”

“I do not care about the traditional study of magic. I do not care about melee study either. These are two popular electives Drathians choose to study.”

This sounded more and more like some kind of university.

“What do you like?”

Nozumu hesitated.

“I… do not know. I am a [ドラスの学生], which all who study obtain. I am sorry but I do not know how to say it in your language… a [Learner]? It is a class for Drathians.”

[Learner] sounds like an awful class, Ivory thought. He figured it also wasn’t [Student], which would have been the obvious and easy translation, but it was something that only Drathians—or perhaps people who choose to study at these institutions in Drath—obtained via study. That being said, Ivory didn’t sweat the details.

“We obtain Skills based on our specialisations. I have not chosen a specialisation yet, which is why I was chosen to escort you. They believe an outside influence may inspire me, but I believe they want me to be a [Diplomat]. I do not.”

Ivory thought Nozumu sounded like a teenager complaining about school!

“Well, who knows! Inspiration can come from anywhere. Also… how old are you, if it isn’t rude to ask?”

“I am 17 years old.”

Blimey!

“Oh. I see. Well, I’m 19, so not much older than you! While I’m being rude, what level is your… um… sorry, I can’t pronounce it.”

“Level 7."

Before Ivory could respond, Nozumu spoke up.

“I also have another, but it is level 1… I have never tried to level it. [天文學家]. [Stargazer]. I am embarrassed to ask my seniors, as they teach that—” Before he could finish that sentence with “we should only have one class”, Ivory interjected.

“Wow, that’s awesome! Do you have any Skills for it?”

“Yes… but I will need to look up how to say it for you. I feel shame for having that class.”

“What the hell? That’s stupid as fuck. If it’s something that you like, fuck what other people think. You go look at the moon and have the time of your life!”

This was a literary overload for Nozumu, but he got the gist.

The fact that there is a culture of, well, shame in having a class was absolutely insane to Ivory. This went past [Mages] sneering at [Sorcerers], because at the end of the day that was just good old fashioned snobbery. He imagined the same could be said of, say, a… an [Accountant] and a [Builder], say. Just dumb snobbery. Ivory, of course, had a considerably unique view compared to natives of this world. You appreciated a literal system of fantasy; of classes, Skills and magic.

"So, where are we going?" Ivory asked, bringing it back.

"We are going to the main city of 出島. As it is your first day, and afternoon is almost night, I will show you to your Inn. We can then visit the night markets."

"Cool! How far away from the inn are we?"

"We will be there soon, perhaps 400 paces."

That didn't really mean anything to Ivory, but that wasn't really that long.

The two kept walking the remaining paces in silence, until Ivory felt a little twing on the back of his neck, and got goose bumps on his arms. Instinctively, he turned around to try and find whatever hell bug had just bit him, but he turned instead to find a bug-eyed Nozumu with a talon pointed at him. As he performed a stunning avian bow, Ivory spoke with deadly calm.

"What did you just do," he said, and it wasn't a question. Ivory had not been in this world long, but even he knew that you would not just use a Skill on someone without their consent. The fact that Nozumu was doing what he was doing confirmed that he'd used a Skill, or spell. Even if it wasn't malicious.

"I did not think it would work! ごめんなさい! 許しを請う! It is a Skill for my seniors, that I may learn from them! I am sorry…!"

Nozumu's voice was quavering near the end, and Ivory heard a small sob.

"Jesus, get up, get up, far out," Ivory said as he walked back to force his damn back straight. Luckily, it didn't come to that, as he did so on his own.

"Why didn't you just ask? I even said you would learn more of the language around me! I would have been fine with it!"” Ivory said, perplexed at the entire situation. Nozumu’s eyes were red, but he seemed to not be as upset since Ivory wasn’t that mad.

“I—”

“You know, don’t worry about it. You said that you use it on your… seniors, which I assume are your, what, [Teachers]? It lets you learn whatever they’re teaching more easily?” Ivory carried on walking and Nozumu frantically caught up.

“T-that is right, but I was told by one of my seniors—like a [Teacher], as you say—that she had a Skill that let me learn better. I thought that the Skill would work only if the other Skill was working…”

Hmm. That was kind of reasonable, actually. Ivory didn’t blame him for trying; as far as he was aware, it really shouldn’t have worked. Maybe it will improve his spoken… ‘common’ language?

“I see. Well, we’ll just have to wait and see.” The two were walking through somewhat dense forestry, so it was difficult to see ahead very far. Soon, however, they reached a clearing.

Ivory and Nozumu began climbing the 20 or so stairs, when Nozumu darted up the stairs in a panic.

“Wait!" he cried as he zipped past Ivory. Ivory freeze frame stopped, as he heard a healthy amount of panic in Nozumu's voice. He held out one of his talons tentatively, and Ivory saw him give the air a tap. Nozumu looked human for the first time—so to speak—as he hunched slightly and let out an exasperated sigh. Based on his reaction, whatever was up there wasn't going to kill him, so walked up the stairs.

"They are back," Nozumu sighed. "Sit down. They may take some time."

"What? What's happening?" Ivory asked, as he held out a finger and slowly moved it forward. The invisible wall was, well, just that. "Who is they?"

"They are famous servants of Drath. [Mage] and [Warrior]. They are rivals, and will fight each other when they return home. I have been told that it used to be rare, but in the past few years it has happened more frequently. Those wishing to leave or enter the city are inconvenienced.

At this, Ivory ooh'd. The age old question—magic vs. might. Ivory was distracted by this invisible wall to realise he would be seeing Drathian magic firsthand. He couldn't see the city from here—past the invisible wall was a giant, empty, even space. It was almost the size of a football field, except square. Ivory could tell where the boundaries of this box were due to the ground: inside, there was nothing. No structures, weeds or anything else that suggested "stuff can go here". Immediately outside the boundary, however, was grass. There was also a paved path that started along the opposite side of the box. "Either there's some trickery going on, or this place is reserved for those two to fight", Ivory thought.

Ivory scanned the area and saw no sign of the mystery fighters. Nozumu poked Ivory and pointed upwards. Ivory looked up and saw a figure lolling around in the air, looking like he was having a grand old time. He was too high up to make out any distinct features, other than the fact that he wore a robe and had coloured hair. Ivory turned to Nozumu.

"Suppose that's the [Mage], then. Where's this [Warrior]?"

"[Sword Saint], thank you. I wouldn't want to be around if she heard you call her a [Warrior]," a voice spoke. Ivory, having not been here long enough to consider hearing someone speak his language fluently an oddity, turned to see the person that just spoke.

"What kind of anime nons—AAH!"

There was a man laying on his stomach with his head resting on his crossed arms—hovering at face height. He wore a white robe and had multicoloured hair in a ponytail, with a neutral expression on his face. He moved to hover in a cross-legged position.

“We need to get across. Can you please teleport us to the other side so we can continue our business?” Nozumu said, with a tinge of annoyance.

“Shut your beak, brat. That one’s got some interesting skills; he’d be pretty pissed if you denied him this opportunity.”

Nozumu didn’t understand what he meant, but Ivory did: the Human [Mage] could see his Skills. Ivory felt his skin prickle with goose bumps, almost as if his [Magical Inspiration] Skill was telling him something. Or not—and he was just feeling excited with anticipation.

“It’d be okay if we watched, right? Are we in a rush?” Ivory asked Nozumu. In response, he turned to Ivory wide eyed, beak slightly ajar.

“How are you speaking Drathian?”

“I’m not?” Ivory responded with confusion. He did notice that Nozumu’s fluency seemed to perfect, but again, Ivory wasn’t here long enough to notice the difference. And then it clicked—everyone was speaking his language. He turned to the [Mage], and he waved a hand.

“[Greater Translation Field]. Nothing special. Seldom do we have an audience from afar,” he said conversationally. “Oh, she’s here now. Keep an eye out—I like to use my favourite spells on her. And one more thing!” He said, as he started flying away, his voice still audible as if he were right beside him. “I won’t give Damaring’s full class, but I am no [Mage]. This may be the only time you see an [Exalted Horrorbane Omnicaster] in combat.” He flew off towards Damaring, leaving Ivory reeling at that class. Three words! Four if he was being technical. There was a lot to digest. What exactly was he killing…?

“[Translation] scrolls aren’t uncommon here, but they’re expensive. That he knows such a spell is not surprising.” Nozumu’s interjection distracted Ivory’s frazzled brain.

“Aye. Well, let’s get comfortable then. Oh, I can see Damaring now—does she have a great grandmother who was a Goat Beastkin or something?” Ivory asked. Damaring looked human, but had two great, curved horns coming out of her head, almost half a foot each in length. Nozumu hesitated, and Ivory continued before he could respond.

“Jesus. Well, this is a lot. Wait, I think they're starting!”

Nozumu gave Ivory an inquisitive side-eye, but kept silent. Damaring and the [Omnicaster] were facing each other on the ground and bowed to each other. Ivory got full body goosebumps again—and pulled out his phone and started a video recording. Landscape, of course—he wasn’t an idiot. He felt a curious compulsion to get his wand out, so he picked the acorn out of his Bag of Holding. Wand of Zont and iPhone in hand, he prepared himself for quite the display.

He had no idea what was in store.