“Draaake! Time for breakfast!”

Drake Long blinked in disbelief again, still coming to terms with his objectively hot teenager body, and the uniform he was wearing. Drake had no doubt Laurelin intended for him to go to some sort of high school. His mind was racing. Puberty. Again. Homework. Again. Tests. Drama. Cliques. Again. Greeeaaaat. Term papers about useless subjects. Trapped in an uncomfortable plastic seat for six or more hours. For years. Awesome.

The dark memories of a time in his past life he was eternally glad to have been over with were resurfacing with a vengeance. He’d been as much of an awkward nerd in his last high school as he’d been as a nearly thirty year old man. He hadn’t been lucky in le romance either, as the father of the one girl he’d managed to woo as a teen had arrived in her room when he’d been ‘lubricating the gates’ and the relationship had never recovered after that.

Then, Drake blinked again, and looked at Falkor, who had a very bemused expression on his dragon face. “Wait…that voice…was that Laurelin?” He nodded, and they left what Drake assumed was his room, to find a rather absurdly large hallway with a high ceiling and many other closed doors along it. He decided to go left, as always, and came upon some stairs. Then, the smell of food hit them. Some kind of meat, and eggs, it seemed. Falkor smelled it too and Drake followed his forward-leaning dragon snout to the kitchen and dining area.

Goddess Laurelin was indeed there, in a lighter dress this time, blue and white and still filled with stars. She smiled as their eyes fell on the feast sitting on the dining table and said, “I figured you would appreciate a meal before heading off to the Academy.”

Drake blinked. “Academy…? I just got here…as a teenager apparently…and now I’m going to a school of some sort?”

Laurelin nodded. “There’s no better place to learn what you need to know! And you already know how to navigate one, so it should be no problem for you.” Drake knew better than to argue. Her ‘mom tone’ would brook no truancy. “It’s a ‘boarding school’ in Earth terminology, and the semester started a few days ago, just so you’re aware.” Drake hid his grimace as he had some lightly salted eggs.

“And it’s all just…the same as what I know from Earth? Grades? Tests? Math, language, science, P.E, and…magic, probably?”

She smirked at him. “You got most of the courses just by guessing. I expect straight As from my chosen Hero.” Drake groaned. Grades. Great. Awesome. Yay. He genuinely would’ve preferred a dank dungeon reeking with the stench of voided orc bowels, than more schooling. Both Laurelin and Falkor laughed at him, even as the dragon was munching on a small mountain of cooked sausages. “Falkor will be staying here, with me, for a time, while you get educated. I need to examine his growth, make sure it isn’t stunted, and inform your instructors that they are not to harm him when he visits you. They do not allow pets, but I know I won’t be able to keep him away forever.”

Drake raised an eyebrow at her. “Is he…going to fit in this place, once he’s grown?”

She chuckled again. “I take it you haven’t looked outside yet. You should. It’s quite a sight.”

Nomming on a sausage of his own, Drake stood and strode towards the paned windows lining the far wall of the eating area, and gasped, as he beheld Arcadia’s sky for the first time. There was no Sun, no star to warm the far flung planet. Magical lines of energy swirled through the sky, but above them, was a truly majestic rainbow nebula. “Holy shit…” Drake muttered, in awe. Falkor jumped on his shoulders again, and Drake watched his eyes widen as well, scratching underneath his chin as they took in the sight. Laurelin joined them, a moment later. “Is the view always like this?”

“Only from our palatial grounds.” A new, deep male voice said. Drake turned and beheld what looked like a classic stereotype of a wizard. He seemed human, with long white hair, long white beard, kind but tired eyes, and blue robes trimmed with gold, not at all dissimilar from his uniform’s color scheme, that glowed with faintly pulsing purple arcane patterns. “Greetings, Drake Long. I am Galdurath, husband of Laurelin, and God of Magic.” He inclined his head, and after glancing at Falkor, Drake bowed low, and Falkor lowered his head as well.

Drake could tell that Galdurath didn’t care for him. He was looking at the two isekai'd arrivals with veiled distaste, like an upper east-sider looked at a puddle of urine on a New York sidewalk. This did not bode well. Drake needed the two good aligned Gods to be firmly on his side. As Drake met his gaze evenly, his eyes narrowed slightly. “I am, genuinely, honored to meet you, Galdurath. Since your wife told me about you, I’ve been eager to meet an actual God of magic.”

Galdurath’s tone now echoed his eyes, with disdain. “I’m sure you have. Just so you’re aware, your current year’s tuition has been covered by us. For matters involving the Galdurian Arc Warden Academy, we will be acting personally as your Guardians.” Galdurath stared him down with quiet intensity. “Obviously…we’re very busy. So don’t waste our time by having us need to be called in by your instructors. Future school years will be up to you to pay for. To graduate as a recognized Arc Warden, you need a Grade Point Average above three, and six consecutive years of schooling.”

The teenager did the math, and tried not to grimace. He’d be twenty two by the time he finally got to adventure, assuming his grades, which had been lackluster at best back on Earth, were up to par. GREAT. Drake must have shown his disdain on his face, because Galdurath’s white brows crashed together. “We can always return your worthless essence to the Earthsphere, if you prefer. Seeing you now…I genuinely cannot fathom what his wife sees in you, and seeing your achievements of your past life, all zero of them, I expect you to fail. Spectacularly.”

“Galdurath!” Laurelin’s fierce tone sliced through Drake's retort before it formed. “I chose him, with the same parameters that selected you once upon a time. You insult both yourself, and my intuition, before he’s even stepped out the Fucking door!”

“My love, I-”

“Spare me!” She countered, and Drake made a mental note to never piss Laurelin off, but this had the vibe of a fight long in the making given how quickly she’d gone off, so he wisely shut the fuck up. “You’ve had nothing but disdain since I came up with this plan, you’ve whined about it incessantly, and now, atop all of this childish behavior from a God, you insult our Hero, a guest in our home, before he’s so much as opened his Status Magic!? Go back to Primus. The sight of your countenance is enraging me.”

With fury in his eyes aimed in Drake's direction, Galdurath wordlessly bamfed away in a flash of bright blue magic. Laurelin took a deep breath, and calmed herself. Drake noticed the sky then, and the clouds that had suddenly rolled in, now once again dispersed, revealing that gorgeous nebula in the space ‘above’ Arcadia. “I’m sorry about him…for all his wisdom and intellect, he can still succumb to Mortal flaws. He was once a Mortal like you, and his utter failure to stop our son and guide our society has made him frustrated. My summoning you here is proof that he has completely and utterly failed. You will have to impress him greatly, if you want him to respect you.”

Drake had a feeling the God of Magic was plagued by other worries. He recognized that look in Galdurath's eye, the one he had when he saw his beloved wife. She was admittedly quite a catch, and were Drake in his position, he’d probably also be feeling some trepidation from her summoning another isekai protag to accomplish a task his own Godly powers failed to handle. “With respect, Goddess…I need to speak with him. Now. Letting this fester, is just going to cause more problems. I think things will go better though, if you’re not around while we speak. Give me...ten minutes, and then bring me back here…after that, I’d like to at least look at my stats and get a feel for casting magic before I go to an elite Academy dedicated to it.”

Laurelin sighed, and then waved a hand at him. A divine golden shield surrounded his person, clinging to his skin. “His powers won’t negatively affect you, so long as this shield endures. Ten minutes.” She said, tiredly, before bamfing him away. Drake nodded, and then, he was elsewhere.

Drake appeared in a genuinely awe inspiring wizard sanctum, worthy of a God. There was only one large window, showing the city, Primus no doubt, below. Galdurath was standing by a table full of arcane devices, and he scowled as he saw him appear. “You have some nerve, asking to come here uninvited.” He stated plainly.

Drake nodded. “I apologize…both for that, and for what I’m about to say, if it offends you.” That got his attention. “I’m sure…that dealing with the aftermath of your son turning evil is…a kind of stress I can’t properly fathom. Having the fate of an entire world is, as you pointed out correctly, new to him. But all I want, Archmage Galdurath, is for you and I to be allies in his purpose here. I owe your wife, for saving me, and Falkor. I can see that losing your son has deeply hurt her…and I want to help. I know I can help. But I’m going to need your help as well, so, man to man, reincarnated Hero to reincarnated Hero, I want to give you my word on this. And you can use your Godly powers to confirm the truth of my words in my soul: I solemnly swear to help your son return from the darkness, to guide your precious world to a better path, and to make your family whole again. That’s what your wife wants, I think.” Galdurath was quiet, his angered expression lessened, as his words were processed. “And,” Drake added, “I have absolutely no romantic intentions towards Goddess Laurelin. I just want to state that, for the record, here, at the start of what I hope is a long and mutually beneficial partnership.” Drake offered a hand to him, and Galdurath looked at him, sighed, and then walked towards him.

As he took his hand in a firm shake, he said, “I remain skeptical…but…my wife is right. You have literally just arrived. You will make mistakes, as I did, and rise to the challenge set before you, as I did. You have my word, Drake Long, I will not hinder your quest. Until your oaths are fulfilled, you may see me as an ally.” He let his hand go, and regarded Drake with, by his estimation, mildly less disdain. A puddle of dirty water, perhaps, as opposed to urine. Drake called that progress.

Drake bowed again, deeply. “In time, I hope we can also be friends. I’ll do my best to prove worthy of your wife’s appraisal, and, I'll put in a good word with her on the home front for you…if uhh, you wouldn’t mind sending me back there.”

Galdurath nodded again, his expression passive. “I will wish you luck, Drake Long.” He said, as light engulfed his vision, and Drake was whisked back to the home of the Gods. “You will need it…” He muttered, before returning to his work, and shaking his head. A magicless soul from a magicless universe attending an academy dedicated solely to magic had a low probability of working out.

Falkor’s scaly tail wagged as Drake returned, appearing in the kitchen this time, and Laurelin was once again at the table, quietly sipping what smelled like tea. “How was he?” She asked, eyes not leaving her cup. Drake smirked lightly. It was clear she cared as much for Galdurath as he did for her, but losing a son to evil’s embrace would strain any marriage, divine or otherwise.

“Skeptical…perhaps credibly so, but amenable to helping me accomplish our mutual goals. I’m sure once I can prove somewhat competent, he’ll warm up to me. Maybe once I clear a Dungeon or two.” Drake chuckled.

Laurelin raised a brow at him. “That’s quite a feat, you know.” Drake blinked in confusion at her, and she elaborated. “There are thirty two known Dungeons that have appeared across the entirety of Arcadia. Seventeen of those, are what we call Demon Dungeons, and the creatures within them are quite strong. Stronger than Runic class Adventurers. Fortunately, at a certain level of power, they cannot leave the Dungeon without Dagorath’s direct influence either personally or through a Demon Lord. Only low level monsters can leave, though they’ll simply respawn if they’re killed outside of a Dungeon. The only thing that ends their twisted souls permanently, is dying in a Dungeon, and while inside one, they are exponentially stronger. The Final Bosses of each Dungeon are considered comparable to the highest ranks of the Arc Wardens, and just reaching them takes quite a lot of resources, supply lines, and manpower. We do have Heroes who could beat them, but the interiors of Dungeons can be incomprehensibly vast. Like…the interior of a TARDIS, they’re bigger on the inside, and entirely under the control of the Final Boss that rules over them.”

Drake smirked, and ran his thumb across his nose, embracing the stereotype he’d been reincarnated into. “I’ll say it again, then. I’ll clear out a Dungeon, maybe even two!”

My bravado got the Goddess to chuckle. “In all our long history, since the Dungeons first started appearing, only five regular Dungeons have been fully cleared out. Two by the Elves, and three by Humans. And those only fell because they appeared well within the territory of those races, where supplies and strength of arms were plentiful. Perhaps before you start boasting, you should at least use your Status Magic.”

“Right, let's see what awesome stats I’ve spawned with!” Drake said confidently, then, as the silence grew, Drake realized he actually had no idea how to cast magic. Like, at all. He’d been focusing his mind like a true anime protag, and yet, no screens appeared. Frowning, Drake raised a hand before him, but still, nothing happened. His mind raced, and settled on, perhaps, the status being summoned by both verbal and somatic components, as most spells Drake was familiar with required. “Status!” He said, still projecting confidence, but again, nothing happened.

Laurelin raised a brow. “Oh dear. You really have no idea how to open it, huh? I suppose that makes sense…you are from a Universe that utterly lacks magic. Just searching it was quite tiring, as a result, even for me.” She set down her tea, and approached him, taking his hands. She closed them together, like he was about to pray, and then it occurred to him, the source of this world’s magic was a God. Maybe praying was the main requirement. As an atheist in his former life, the idea simply hadn’t occurred to him. Drake had to remember he was in a world with nature-defying powers, now. The old rules no longer applied. “Try again.” Laurelin gently encouraged.

Calmer now, Drake tried praying, or at least, his best attempt at it. His parents had, like the majority of Earthlings, indoctrinated him into the same cult they’d been a part of before he could even form words, let alone properly comprehend what a God even was, as a concept. Drake hadn’t been a genius, but he had been rational, and had his clever moments. And his not so clever moments. One such moment, had been noticing that Santa’s handwriting just happened to be identical to his mom’s. Once that childhood lie was gently exposed for what it was by his father, it hadn’t taken him very long to apply the same logical thinking to religion. And, of course, actually reading the Bible had cemented his opinion of the Abrahamic God as a mass murdering, utterly evil entity, by every objective definition of the word. Galdurath might’ve been a bit self important, but he was not the kind to, for example, murder everyone on Arcadia by drowning an entire planet, or maul children by ordering the local wildlife around. Probably. That said, Drake made a note to look into both his and Laurelin’s recorded divine acts, in this world. Drake doubted Laurelin had any sketchy actions in her past, but Galdurath seemed like the type who would, and had, done whatever he had to do to keep his precious home intact, by any means necessary. It was a good idea to know exactly who his new allies were.

“Status…” Drake said quietly, whilst thinking of the God of Magic. Drake could’ve sworn he felt a disembodied sense of irritation, but when he opened his eyes, it was to a floating blue screen with his handsome face in the top left corner, above which, was his name. He smirked. The layout was slightly different, streamlined, one might say, but the similarities were uncanny. “Say, Laurelin…who designed the layout for these Status sheets?”

She gave him a knowing smirk. “Why, that would be my dear husband.”

Drake chuckled. “And uhh…I take it the honorable Galdurath had Dungeons and Dragons on his home planet? Another Dimensional Echo, perhaps?”

She giggled lightly, amused by his reaction. “Caverns and Wyverns, actually.”

My eyes widened. “Oh, please tell me there’s a variant here on Arcadia!” There was not much Drake had liked about the Earth. It was a violent, merciless place whose beauty was belied by the brutal nature of its natural laws. To survive, one had to consume another living thing’s energy, and despite not liking that, it was just how things worked. You either ate, and lived, or ended up as food for animals, or plants, so they could live. But D&D had been a bright spot in an otherwise depressing timeline. For a time, anyway. All groups eventually drifted apart, his being no exception.

He'd actually started the group at one of his first jobs, as an after school counselor/teacher in what had essentially been a daycare for both 'normal' kids and those on the autism spectrum. When the time had come to sadly move on from that part-time job, the D&D group's parents had asked him to keep things going since the kiddos had so much fun with it, and he had agreed, after working out where they'd host things, and most importantly, when. Despite being almost twice their age, they'd continued playing D&D for many years, and those memories of hijinks and hilarity would never leave him. But this was a new life, and more D&D meant there would be more memories.

Laurelin tilted her head. “I’ve personally never cared for it…but I believe the nerds of my beloved world call their version Dungeons and Deities. My Galdurath was quite amused by it.”

Drake grinned, turning back to his magical character sheet. “Mark me, D&D. I shall play you, again.” He’d been a DM in his past life, so either he could make a group, or join one. Like most, he’d been a player before he rose to share Ao’s role as Overgod at the head of a pack of nerds. He wouldn’t mind being a PC again, though. And judging by his Status Magic, he essentially was one, in a sense.

(I’m just going to make the actual Status sheets and put them here, rather than describe every single thing on them every time it comes up. Enjoy.)

image [https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/107dc055-197f-4c79-a8d4-bf5e3018e03b/dj3eeih-4ec2e328-e797-4a44-8984-546e687cdc24.jpg/v1/fill/w_903,h_885,q_70,strp/status_magic_1_by_pokefan1337_dj3eeih-pre.jpg?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7ImhlaWdodCI6Ijw9MTUzNyIsInBhdGgiOiJcL2ZcLzEwN2RjMDU1LTE5N2YtNGM3OS1hOGQ0LWJmNWUzMDE4ZTAzYlwvZGozZWVpaC00ZWMyZTMyOC1lNzk3LTRhNDQtODk4NC01NDZlNjg3Y2RjMjQuanBnIiwid2lkdGgiOiI8PTE1NjkifV1dLCJhdWQiOlsidXJuOnNlcnZpY2U6aW1hZ2Uub3BlcmF0aW9ucyJdfQ.Yorj6Yu2AmEnocQUebwJonuBh99KxouxnrkN2eoATMk]

“So…” Drake started, as Laurelin stood beside him, eyebrows raised, “My int is great…slightly higher strength, I like it, but uhh…how high do these numbers go? Is one hundred and three a lot? Do stats increase by more than one point per level?”

“One point per level, usually…but I don’t know how your level and charisma has already…” She chuckled then. “It seems sweet-talking my husband gave you experience. And extra charisma points. Makes some sense, he is a God after all. You must have really gotten through to him for that to have happened enough to level you up…”

Drake took the opportunity to make good on putting in a good word for the God of Magic. He’d never played wingman to a God, but if anything would raise his charisma some more…

“I think he’s just…frustrated that I even have to be here, which is fair. Were I in his position, I’d be irritated too, being kinda of replaced with a seemingly unqualified stranger. But we reached an understanding. Once I prove somewhat useful I’m sure he’ll come around. He didn’t immediately shoot down the idea of us being friends, at least.” Drake nodded confidently. “It’s a start.”

Laurelin’s expression was a mask of a slight smile, and Drake had no doubt she’d guessed what he was trying to do. But she made no mention of it, so Drake assumed he’d been successful. His eyes were drawn to his Feats and Minor Blessings section, as it updated. “Ally…of the Gods…ten percent universal experience bonus!? Fuck yes!” That reaction got another chuckle from the Goddess of Life. “Now…let’s try some skills before the school day ends completely.”

He swiped to the side of the status screen, and brought up his depressingly tiny list of skills.

image [https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/107dc055-197f-4c79-a8d4-bf5e3018e03b/dj3eqlm-7d9ec6ac-c8b6-4e97-9de5-282295a95b07.jpg/v1/fit/w_828,h_1046,q_70,strp/skills_status_1_by_pokefan1337_dj3eqlm-414w-2x.jpg?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7ImhlaWdodCI6Ijw9MTk4MSIsInBhdGgiOiJcL2ZcLzEwN2RjMDU1LTE5N2YtNGM3OS1hOGQ0LWJmNWUzMDE4ZTAzYlwvZGozZXFsbS03ZDllYzZhYy1jOGI2LTRlOTctOWRlNS0yODIyOTVhOTViMDcuanBnIiwid2lkdGgiOiI8PTE1NjkifV1dLCJhdWQiOlsidXJuOnNlcnZpY2U6aW1hZ2Uub3BlcmF0aW9ucyJdfQ.oCsG73n9ad_Zr_O2dRhgIZm3i_9SgLYnWhW27Qltd5w]

“Huh. So I have…Dragon Palm…damages and stuns…and a basic melee attack…and no magic? I thought I’d be able to manipulate magical energy?” He asked towards Laurelin, as he noted the colors around his attacks. Yet another D&D reference no doubt. Green indicated At Will attacks, or Cantrips, red meant they were either Encounter powers, or had a significant several-minute cooldown, and while he didn't have any Daily class skills yet, he guessed their border would be gray, black, or white.

She nodded. “Manipulating raw magic isn’t so much a skill as something you can do because your body has such a large amount of it. With an Intelligence stat on par with a Adamantine or Runic level Adventurer, you should have enough magic power to fuel whatever you desire. I’ll let you try out Pyrokinesis, before we need to depart in time to arrive for afternoon classes, including meeting the Headmaster, and assigning you a room.”

Drake nodded. “Fair. I’ll try to grasp using magic quickly. So…how exactly does one manipulate…raw magic?”

Laurelin tilted her head. “Hmm. It’s…hmm.” After about a minute, she snapped her fingers. “You saw The Last Airbender, right? My records said it was a favorite of yours.”

Drake nodded. “Greatest cartoon ever made. Not even a contest. I think I know where you’re going with this, Goddess.” She chuckled, and gestured for him to try. Drake closed his eyes, and visualized the magical energy that was flowing through his new, objectively hot body in a way and amount that simply didn’t exist in his old universe. He gasped slightly, as he felt it. In multiple parts of his body, his Chakras perhaps, pools of significant roiling energy. “How umm…wow that is something. How do I make it into fire?”

“Magic, at least in our world, responds to one’s Will. If you have the willpower to imagine something, you can usually guide the magic into whatever form or pattern you desire. Like fire.”

“Alright.” Drake muttered, eyes still closed, visualizing. “Think…flamethrower.” Three images stood out in his head. Actual real life Earth flamethrowers circa WWII, a Charizard, which basically was synonymous with the fire typed move, and Phoenix King Ozai, high on Comet powered energy, burning the world with unhinged glee. Probably because she’d mentioned Avatar. His eyes snapped open, and his hand rose, pointing into the air. He felt the flames form, swirl, condense in his palm, and then surge into the air. Drake blinked as the force of it actually had recoil, and he briefly wondered if he could make myself fly like a human rocket. If he ever found himself in the air for whatever reason, he’d try it with four limbs.

Remembering Laurelin’s words and Aang’s first attempt with this element, Drake lessened the output with the force of his will, and guided the flames down into his palm, keeping them alive as he focused. He walked away from Laurelin carefully, and then very slowly started weaving the flames around him, exactly like a firebender. It was, Drake discovered, a great way to get a feel for manipulating magic, which became easier and easier to do as time passed. With his will focused, he could draw on the magic from the back of his mind, and stopped and restarted his ‘firebending’ several times to get a feel for it.

He was so into it, he nearly lost track of time, and about halfway through his total reserve of magic, he stopped with his best attempt at a firebender’s flare, making the flames into a dragon. That, was still a bit beyond him though as the final surge of flame just spread out wider, rather than taking on a draconic shape. Laurelin clapped, and Drake heard Falkor let out a roar that resembled a bark. Bowing to his audience, and properly sweaty, he caught his breath and walked over to them. “I think I’ve got the hang of it. Thank you, Goddess. That example was perfect.”

She chuckled. “I barely explained anything. You have a knack for this, Drake Long. I think if you check your skills, you’ll find that they’ve changed.” Drake did as she suggested , and sure enough, he now had Firebending listed under his Dragon Palm and basic melee attack. It was a stance, apparently, and would increase his party’s attack power, while he used it. A dark grin came over his face. He planned on taking a page from the Goblin Slayer. But with fire. When he finally got to start adventuring. Drake figured the school would probably have them clear out weaker monsters at some point. It’d be an incredible waste if they never actually utilized their top tier magic skills to wipe out monster hordes.

Laurelin’s method of transporting him, enough clothes for a week (which was also seven days, here) and his various course books (which he would also have to buy in the future), was a carriage drawn by pegasi, which were apparently as rare as unicorns on Earth, in that science minded people thought they didn’t exist. Laurelin had been evasive when Drake asked why she’d guided them to the God’s realm in the north, but her expression, and mention of her people’s obsession with their wings and feathers, told him all he needed to know. It also confirmed that the mortals on Arcadia were not immune to the barbarity the mortals on Earth had also experienced.

The sky spires of Primus surrounded the academy, a primarily white stone series of skyscraping pointed towers that stretched impossibly high, and as they got closer he realized, stood taller and wider than anything Drake had witnessed on the Earth. The Galdurian Arc Warden Academy was quite a sight, from above. Nestled between several skyscrapers in the ancient city of Primus, the campus nevertheless had plenty of room, and seemed to connect to the city at large with usefully placed footpaths. There were three main buildings that formed the central campus, with multiple, much simpler buildings on either side that had to be dormitories, separated no doubt by gender, and distance. As if that had ever stopped teenagers.

Directly and centrally behind the main campus building, was a long rectangular field that reminded him of Soccer, or what Pokémon Trainers faced off on. In the center was a golden eye surrounded by a white pyramid, and the majority of the field was a rich blue. As they descended, Drake saw the field was trimmed with gold, confirming for him that blue and gold seemed to be associated with the Gods, or at least Galdurath.

The grand entrance of the academy was framed by towering ivory columns, blue runic etchings glowing faintly with latent power, and beneath the statues atop them; accurate depictions of both Laurelin and Galdurath that had been carved in gold and silver respectively with clear and obvious skill. The cobbled walkways leading inward were lined with floating lanterns, their glow shifting to reflect the hours of the day, and winding bridges spanned small artificial rivers filled with bioluminescent fish that resembled Koi fish from Earth. Vendors operated stalls along the academy’s campus, selling enchanted parchments, rare alchemical ingredients, and a metric ton of what seemed like magical amulets, rings, and necklaces, items that probably took up minor slots on one's person, but improved their overall power, for a steep price, no doubt.

Drake’s arrival was nothing short of a spectacle. The pegasus-drawn carriage, gilded and pristine, descended with practiced grace into the academy’s main courtyard, the winged beasts landing upon the intricately carved stone before the statues of the Gods with a synchronized beat of their hooves. The moment he stepped down, he could feel the attention shift, eyes drawn to him as if by some unseen force. Laurelin, disguised as a mortal elf now, and playing the role of his mother, exuded a quiet regality in her new posh noblewoman attire and hairstyle that only heightened the curiosity surrounding them as they headed towards the main building. He could hear the whispers, hushed and hurried, as students clad in uniforms like his own murmured theories about his origins.

“Who is that?”

“I’ve never seen him before, with a face like that, I'd remember. Did he just transfer?”

“Look at the way she carries herself. That woman… she’s no ordinary noble.”

"She has to be from a major House...but which one?"

Even the faculty seemed intrigued as they entered the main hall of the building. Professors watched them, some with mild curiosity, others with narrowed eyes filled with calculation. To Drake's eyes, not one of them would've looked out of place at a Harry Potter convention. The interior of the academy was nothing short of breathtaking. The ceiling soared high above them, enchanted to resemble the nebula-filled sky outside with soft golden hues of the late morning hour. Immense chandeliers fashioned from sparkling rainbow colored crystal floated in midair, and the glowing arcane gemstones pulsed softly with power.

The marble floor beneath them was polished to a near-mirrored shine, etched with intricate golden filigree on every single tile. Towering columns lined the hall, each wrapped in a spiraling flow of softly glowing arcane script that drifted like living ink upon the stone, constantly rewriting itself as if scribing an unending spell, likely of protection from all kinds of magics. Along the walls, massive tapestries illustrated the academy’s rich history, depicting grand battles, pivotal moments of magical discovery, and the formation of Arcadia’s greatest Heroes. Students from presumably higher years passed through the hall in groups on their way to their next class. Only a few occasionally paused to glance in Drake’s direction before quickly moving on, whispering in hushed voices. As they walked deeper into the grand entryway, the scent of parchment, enchanted ink, and aged tomes mixed with the varied perfumes the upper classes used, resulting in a not-unpleasant, but potent aroma.

Inside the academy’s central tower, Headmaster Veydris awaited them. His office was a vast chamber, its vaulted ceiling covered in shifting constellations that mirrored the sky outside. Shelves upon shelves of ancient tomes stretched from floor to ceiling, each bound in leather embossed with golden filigree, glowing faintly with protective enchantments. The scent of old parchment mixed with the lingering aroma of rare incense, a blend of knowledge and tradition that permeated the air. A grand circular desk, carved from an immense slab of dark obsidian, stood at the center of the room, its surface covered in neatly arranged stacks of scrolls, enchanted quills, and arcane artifacts that pulsed faintly with dormant energy.

Behind the Headmaster, was an enormous enchanted window did not simply reveal the outside world, but displayed shifting depictions of history itself, from grand battles fought in the age of legends against powerful Demon Lords, to celestial charts that predicted the flow of the leylines across Arcadia. Arcane scripts hovered in midair around the frame, providing onlookers with a brief but informative blurb about the scene being depicted. Drake tried not to get distracted by the slideshow of interesting lore. Being very much a ravenous consumer of various lore about various worlds, Drake considered himself an expert on histories ranging from Arda to Azeroth, though, almost none of that knowledge was likely to help him in his new life, which was a depressing thought. He took mental notes from the scrolling images, and resolved to look up the key words he could remember in the academy library at some point.

Headmaster Veydris himself radiated an aura of composed authority, his silver eyes sharp and wrinkled with the weight of centuries. His presence was neither oppressive nor overtly welcoming, but one of calculated observation, as if he measured the worth of every individual that stood before him. His long, deep-blue robes shimmered subtly with interwoven magic, layered with runes of wisdom and power. His fingers, adorned with rings containing stored spells, rested upon the surface of his mahogany brown desk as he regarded them with quiet intensity. His hair resembled Galdurath's, probably on purpose, with the only difference being a braid of silver locks that encircled his wizened skull. He acknowledged Laurelin with the barest inclination of his head.

“You walk among Mortals today, Goddess Laurelin.” He noted, his voice steady.

“I do, Headmaster.” She answered simply, offering nothing more than a fake smile. Then, with a subtle shift in her demeanor, she continued. "Drake Long is under my direct protection, as well as my husband's, and though he may appear unfamiliar to your records, he is not without merit. You will find him a fast learner, and soon, his presence here will make sense." She paused, letting her words settle. "Additionally, he is not alone. His companion, Falkor, will be visiting on occasion." Her voice was light, almost casual, but the weight of her authority made it clear that this was not a request.

The Headmaster frowned. "You know we do not allow pets-"

"Falkor is no mere pet." Laurelin answered, enjoying the old man's discomfort more than perhaps she should have. "He is a Dragon, the first of a new breed of magical creatures who will undoubtedly aid us against Dagorath's dark abominations, should they arrive with the next Demon Lord. He is intelligent, kind, and can speak and understand our tongue, so if he violates any of your precious rules, simply explain them to him, and he shall follow them. My main concern, is that you do not try shooting him down. You will not like his response to being attacked." She provided a physical description of Falkor then, and the Headmaster nodded, resigned to simply accepting that his campus would now be playing host to a dragon, sometimes, apparently. Gods.

The Headmaster studied Drake in silence, his gaze piercing and irritated. Then, with a measured breath, he retrieved a document and stamped it with a glowing sigil. “Welcome, Drake Long. You will be assigned to Class Seven, year one. You will stay with your Instructor and your classmates for the duration of your time here, so I would advise you to make a good first impression. You will be informed when your...Dragon...arrives to visit you, and will be financially responsible for anything he destroys.” Drake nodded, doubting Falkor would break anything intentionally. The meeting was over as swiftly as it had begun, but the weight of it lingered as they departed.

As they stepped outside the office, the heavy wooden doors shutting behind them with a soft thud, Laurelin turned to Drake. Her expression was softer now, the sharp authority she had worn in front of the Headmaster fading. She placed a hand on his shoulder and gave him a small nod of approval. "This will be difficult, but you have endured much worse. Learn quickly, trust your instincts, beware your fellow classmate's goals, and do not be afraid to carve your own path," She said, her voice carrying the quiet certainty of someone who knew his potential far better than he did. "You are not alone, even if you feel like it."

With those parting words, she stepped away, vanishing into the grand corridors of the academy without another glance. The moment she left, the quiet intensity of the situation caught up with Drake as he realized he was, in fact, very much completely on his own, in a world he knew precious little about. He exhaled and looked around, realizing that without Laurelin leading the way, he had no idea where he was supposed to go.

He hesitated at the grand junction of twisting corridors and arched passageways, each lined with glowing runes that pulsed gently like the heartbeat of the academy. The students moving past him seemed to know exactly where they were going, while he stood in place, trying to make sense of the path ahead. After a few minutes of aimless wandering, he found himself in what appeared to be a maintenance corridor, filled with floating dust particles illuminated by the soft golden light of hovering lanterns.

“Lost already, are you?”

Drake turned to see an elderly elf with platinum blonde hair and a light mustache, leaning against a broom, his pointed ears twitching slightly with amusement. His long hair was tied back neatly, and his deep green robes bore the faint insignia of the academy’s maintenance staff. His eyes twinkled with wisdom and an undeniable kindness. He had the look of someone who had seen countless students come and go, yet still found amusement in their struggles.

“Yeah,” Drake admitted with a sheepish grin. "First day, new place, kind of a maze. I'm trying to get to Class Seven."

The janitor chuckled, resting both hands on the broom handle as if it were a staff of great importance. "Ah, the academy does have a way of humbling even the brightest minds. I am Faelar, caretaker of these halls." He gestured down a side corridor. "Class Seven, you say? Follow the blue sigils on the walls. They will lead you to the main classrooms, which are marked on the top of their doors with two numbers The first is your class, and the second, your year. You'll want class Seven-One."

Drake nodded, glancing at the softly glowing symbols before turning back to Faelar. "Thank you, Faelar. I appreciate it."

The elf smiled, tapping his broom lightly on the marble floor. "Pay attention to the details, young one. The academy is more than just books and battlefields. Sometimes, the smallest things hold the greatest secrets. Now go, before you are late."

Drake gave him a nod of thanks before following the path, and eventually finding a door marked with the number he sought. He paused at the entryway, tried to ignore the weight and importance of the impression he was about to make, and knocked, straightening his uniform and his leather backpack holding his books, as he readied himself. "Enter." Came an authoritative baritone.

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As he stepped into the room, the eyes of the students of Class Seven shifted toward him with intrigue, some openly staring, others whispering among themselves. The students were arranged in three neat rows of four desks, each seat occupied by someone who, in some way, exuded talent or breeding beyond the average. The air practically vibrated with unspoken assessments, each person weighing his presence against their expectations. Drake eyed them, in turn, but only briefly, as he met his new Instructor.

Standing at the front of the room was an absolute mountain of a man, or rather, a Leonid, as he believed their race was called. The Instructor towered over the assembled students, his physique closer to that of a warlord than an academic. His crimson blood red mane, streaked with silver, was combed back loosely, revealing a feline face marked by experience but softened by the warmth in his golden eyes. Despite his sheer size and the undeniable power radiating from his presence, there was an air of calm about him, a quiet confidence that made him feel more approachable than intimidating. He was not dressed in the flowing robes of the other professors but in a well-fitted, dark blue longcoat that sat on his massive frame over a red plaid undershirt. His attire was simple, stylish, but practical, the kind worn by someone who had no patience for unnecessary frills.

image [https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/107dc055-197f-4c79-a8d4-bf5e3018e03b/dj3eci5-20ecadca-7c91-4438-88d2-6449268d39da.jpg/v1/fill/w_894,h_894,q_70,strp/instructor_aslan_by_pokefan1337_dj3eci5-pre.jpg?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7ImhlaWdodCI6Ijw9MTAyNCIsInBhdGgiOiJcL2ZcLzEwN2RjMDU1LTE5N2YtNGM3OS1hOGQ0LWJmNWUzMDE4ZTAzYlwvZGozZWNpNS0yMGVjYWRjYS03YzkxLTQ0MzgtODhkMi02NDQ5MjY4ZDM5ZGEuanBnIiwid2lkdGgiOiI8PTEwMjQifV1dLCJhdWQiOlsidXJuOnNlcnZpY2U6aW1hZ2Uub3BlcmF0aW9ucyJdfQ.INjWJqWVQvobE1tNhNavyzn6xAlwRaqx0n7AD4ORYGM]

The lion man regarded Drake for a moment, his expression unreadable, before giving a slow nod. "You must be our newest addition." He said, his deep baritone rumbling through the room with an effortless authority. "Drake Long. Welcome to Class Seven. I am called Aslan. I will be your Instructor during your time here, as I help you and your peers ascend to the level and competence of an Arc Warden. Just so you're aware, we will be having a new student join us tomorrow, as well. Introduce yourself." A large, clawed paw gestured at the gathered students.

Drake couldn't help but let out a small chuckle under his breath. Yet another Dimensional Echo. He had half a mind to ask if Aslan was a king in another life. Instead, he simply nodded and stared at the back wall of the room, avoiding eye contact and controlling his nerves as he said, "Hello there. I'm Drake...uhh, I'm fairly new to casting magic, and to the customs and rules of your impressive city, but I'll do my best not to drag the class down. I look forward to working with you all." He lowered his head just enough to convey respect, and then took his seat. Murmurs followed him, wondering how a 'newb' at only level three had made it into the Academy. Apparently, people could tell what level he was just by looking hard enough.

"Good. Let us begin. Time waits for no one, and we've a limited amount of it." Instructor Aslan turned away and picked up a thick tome from his desk, flipping it open with a practiced ease. "We will continue today, with the history of the Seventh Demon Lord invasion, and the varied effects on Arcadian society that the invasion caused both during and after the Hero Valerian managed to slay the Demon Lord, and carve his name into legend." Aslan gestured at the book as he spoke, and Drake's eyes widened, as it displayed actual images projected and formed by the words within the pages. They sure knew how to make learning fun, here.

He split his attention then, as he felt far too many eyes shifting his way, and not on the lesson. For his part, he had, almost immediately, noticed the bombshell of a blonde elf in the second middle row of the room. She had piercing emerald eyes, and sat with an air of aristocratic confidence, her uniform immaculate and her posture flawless. The way she held her chin slightly raised gave the impression that she was used to being in charge, or at the very least, being the most important person in the room. Her gaze flickered towards Drake as she simultaneously took in the lesson, not with idle curiosity, but sharp calculation, as if she were gauging his worth in an instant. Drake met her gaze, and felt his body's pulse quicken. He shot her a genuine smile, but she seemingly ignored him, and focused back on the lesson.

Next to her, a smirking, tabby furred cat girl leaned back in her chair, arms crossed behind her head, the glint in her large eyes hinting at mischief. She had an effortless, almost roguish energy about her, like someone who had spent just as much time breaking rules as she had following them. The contrast between her and the blonde elf made it clear that if there was a hierarchy here, she was the wildcard who disrupted it regularly. She was more openly staring at Drake, but had turned away in disgust when he smiled at the blonde.

A dark-haired and composed human student sat at the front left of the class, his posture rigid and his expression focused as he ignored Drake's existence, and focused on the lesson. Unlike the others, he did not bother with outward displays of authority or charisma. He had the air of a Class Representative, and Drake had a feeling he also boasted the highest scores on written exams.

A towering brute of a teen, another leonid, sat near the back next to Drake, his massive fur covered arms crossed over his chest. His mane was youthful and black, shorter than Aslan's, and his eyes were a bright red, unsettling with his leonine pupils. His uniform strained against his muscular frame, and his expression was unreadable at first as their eyes met, until he gave a slow, approving grunt, as if deciding on the spot that Drake met some unspoken criteria of strength. There was no malice in his gaze, only a simple, practical assessment. Strength recognized strength. Drake was just glad his neighbor approved of him.

On Drake's left, also in the back, was a silver-furred Fox youth who had clearly never bothered brushing the silver clump between his foxlike ears. He had a lazy grin, and lounged against his desk, looking entirely unbothered by the tension in the room. His sharp, foxlike features carried an air of amusement, as if he found the entire situation entertaining rather than concerning. His grin widened as Drake made eye contact, and with an exaggerated stretch, he was the first to quietly say something to him, having noticed his smile towards the blonde elf.

“Well, well. Looks like we’ve got a new contender.”

Before Drake could respond, another student shushed the silver fox from the middle row, a tan-skinned girl with dark brown, tightly coiled black hair adorned with small golden rings. She wore a confident smirk, her piercing amber eyes shining with irritation. "Quiet Leif. Pay attention, newbie." She focused back on the lesson, and had the vibe of someone who had had to struggle to afford to come to a school this prestigious, and had every intention of making the most of every second.

Seated beside her, a dark elf with smooth obsidian skin and striking dark green eyes folded her arms across her chest. Her long silver-white hair reminded him of a Drow. She said nothing, but had flashed Drake a smile on his way to his seat. Now, she was paying attention.

Behind the Dark Elf, as they were apparently called, a towering lizardkin with smooth emerald-green scales tapped his claws against the wooden desk. His bright yellow eyes locked onto Drake with an analytical gaze, and they shared a nod of respect. Apparently, seeing the black maned leonid give his approval was enough for the lizard man. Drake liked their vibe, and hoped he could keep up with such obviously skilled warriors that, he had a feeling, would be on the front line in melee combat with him.

To the left middle side of the room, was a crimson scaled merman with well groomed crimson hair and looks that rivaled Drake's own. He leaned back with an easy grin. His clothing was slightly more disheveled than the others, and a well-worn spellbook sat open on his desk, its pages covered in handwritten notes. He too gave Drake a nod, before looking back at the Instructor, who seemed to notice all the looks Drake's way, but tolerated them. They were teens with brilliant minds, he couldn't rightly expect them to ignore a shiny new mystery dropped right in the middle of them.

The last member of the class was right in front of Drake, and sensing Aslan's tacit approval of the class looking at him, she turned right around, with a bright smile, but spoke quietly to him so as not to interrupt. He leaned forward, so he could hear the buxom honey blonde bunny girl. "I'm Tala! If you want the notes on the other lectures we've had, just let me know!"

Up close, he noted some beastkin had more 'human' in them than others. Like the cat girl, and Tala, the only exception being her bunny nose, which only further accentuated her cuteness. She was by far the class member closest to full adulthood judging by how her bust was straining her blazer, with long brownish blonde hair that sat between her long rabbit ears, and genuinely kind vibes. "Thank you, Tala." He murmured smoothly, "I'll take you up on the offer, after class." That seemed to overjoy her for some reason, and she turned back to the lesson, fluffy tail twitching in what appeared to be joy.

History class was nothing like the dry, monotonous lectures Drake had expected. Instead of dusty textbooks and endless recitations, Instructor Aslan used magic to bring the past to life. With a flick of his fingers, glowing symbols coalesced in the air before unraveling into vivid, three-dimensional projections of legendary battles. Vast armies of high tier adventurers, their armor gleaming under phantom sunlight, clashed against monstrous foes that included orcs, goblins, trolls, and other horrific variations of Arcadia's races, mutated by darkness. Their swords carved through the air with precision and power. Ancient castles crumbled under the assault of arcane sieges, and spellcasters wove dazzling displays of magic, their energy rippling through the illusions, and sometimes striking a student, harmlessly, but with enough of a jolt to focus their attention back on the lesson. It seemed that Aslan was directing the projections, in conjunction with the book.

Drake found himself leaning forward, enthralled by the sheer spectacle of it all. This wasn’t just storytelling. It was an invitation to witness history firsthand. He observed how warriors moved, how spells were seamlessly interwoven with physical strikes, how battle formations dictated the flow of combat, and what a proper Arcadian war actually looked like. The Instructor narrated with an air of reverence, his voice rising and falling in perfect cadence with the ebb and flow of each historical moment of significance that would be on the test. Aslan was clearly in his element, and his lesson was an art form, a dissemination of knowledge wrapped in spectacle, meant to ignite a sense of wonder and respect for those who had shaped the world before them.

At one point, a massive spectral knight, the Arc Warden Valerian himself, standing at least fifteen feet tall from an Enlarge spell, charged forward, his greatsword carving a flaming arc through the illusory battlefield as he went blade to blade with an even larger orc. The monstrosities face was tattooed and pierced, large tusks jutted up from his round, powerful jaw, and dark runes rippled across his musculature in place of armor, the Dark God's blessing clear by the horns and leathery wings that sprouted from his back. The force of the Demon Lord's swing sent projected adventurers scattering like embers in the wind, while Valerian stood strong, and alone. Drake barely suppressed a whistle of appreciation. He could almost feel the heat radiating from the fiery steel, even though he knew it was all just an illusion.

“Pay attention, students,” Instructor Aslan’s voice carried over the magical din of the display. "This was the Hero Valerian’s last stand against the Seventh Demon Lord. Note his footwork. His stance. his unflinching resolve in the face of pure evil. The way he anticipates his opponent’s strikes before they happen. These are not just relics of history. They are lessons for your future."

By the time lunch rolled around, Drake quickly departed the classroom and was one of the first to the lunch line, thanks to a helpful and timely directive finger-point from Faelar. Once he had his rather decent meal of meat covered in some sort of gravy-like sauce, what looked like and had the consistency of mashed potatoes, and something the lunch lady had assured him was delicious for a side dish, he opted for solitude at an empty table near the back of the large room, hoping for a quiet meal to process everything he had learned so far. However, his solitude was short-lived.

He barely had time to take a bite of his food before a shadow fell over his tray. The blonde elf from earlier approached with an air of regal confidence, setting her tray down across from him with deliberate grace. Her arrival was quiet, composed, and yet undeniably purposeful. Her gorgeous emerald eyes flicked toward him, lingering a moment longer than necessary before she turned back to her plate. She made a show of appearing indifferent, but Drake caught the subtle way her fingers drummed against the tray, perhaps a sign of nervousness? Her presence alone carried a weight of expectation, as if she had already decided something about him, and he wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing.

After a pause, she finally spoke, her voice smooth and measured. "You don't belong here."

Drake raised an eyebrow, swallowing his bite of food before he spoke. "I paid tuition like everyone else."

She studied him again, this time with a hint of curiosity breaking through the practiced veneer of aristocratic composure. "It wasn’t meant as an insult. Just an observation. You do not walk or speak like the scion of an Arc Warden family, and I have never seen you before. Your level is too low to afford this place on your own. Who is your sponsor?"

Drake smirked, and projected confidence. "I'm afraid I can't say...just know that I'm here to learn, grow, and...shake things up. In a good way."

She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she took a slow sip from her goblet, her gaze never quite leaving him. "Interesting."

A moment later, the tabby cat girl from their class sauntered over and plopped into the seat beside the elf, grinning at Drake with an expression that was equal parts curiosity and mischief. She leaned forward slightly, tapping her clawed fingers on the table. "So, what's the story, new guy? Drop in from the sky? Get teleported in from some hidden kingdom? Or are you secretly an exiled prince?"

Drake arched an eyebrow. "None of the above...although, I will admit, Teleporting was involved. But that's all you're getting." He smirked at her as well, and she raised her eyebrows, ready to retort, with sass no doubt.

Before she could, the towering black maned brute of a leonid approached, carrying a tray stacked with enough food for three people. He set it down with a decisive thud beside Drake, and gave him a nod. His gigantic frame made an imposing wall between Drake and the rest of the room. Without a word, he dug in, sharp teeth making quick work of the roasted meat. The table shook slightly with each heavy movement, but the sheer normalcy of the act somehow made it even more intimidating. It seemed he'd be introducing himself after his hunger was sated, which was fine with Drake, who had no intention of interrupting him.

The dark-haired tactician arrived next, his movements precise and measured, as if every step he took was premeditated. He took the seat opposite Drake, as the cat girl said, "Vincent! You were right, the newb Teleported in from...somewhere." The smart teen nodded, and adjusted his glasses, giving Drake an appraising look. "Perhaps he simply tested at an advanced level, bypassing the standard entrance examinations due to his Arc Warden potential. It wouldn't be the first time." His tone was neutral, but seemingly friendly, or at least as friendly as nerds like him could be. He placed his tray down without hesitation and folded his hands in front of him, studying Drake as though he were a puzzle waiting to be solved.

Finally, the silver-haired fox trickster strolled up on the other side of the blonde elf, balancing an apple between his five fingers before casually tossing it into the air and catching it. "You all are asking the wrong questions. The real question is, how long does he plan to last?" He smirked, sliding into the other seat beside the elf, his fox-like ears twitching. "Hope you don’t mind the company, newbie. We tend to adopt interesting cases."

Drake smirked. "Not at all. But I have a feeling this isn’t just about making friends."

The tabby cat let out a mewl of laughter. "He catches on quick! Most people don’t just appear in Class Seven without a name that carries weight. We had to find out if you’re some kind of hidden prodigy, a noble’s illegitimate heir, or just someone lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time. Figured we’d do a little investigatin'."

"Subtle," Drake remarked dryly. "But if any of those apply to me...it would certainly be luck." His vague answer made the cat girl subtly grit her teeth. Like pulling water from a desert stone, this guy.

Rose finally spoke again, her voice smooth and composed. "Since we'll be working together, it’s only natural to gauge what you can do. A weak link in a team can be disastrous, and I prefer to know what I’m dealing with before that happens."

Drake took a bite of his food and nodded. "Fair enough. I suppose I should ask the same. Who am I dealing with?"

The cat girl couldn't help but answer first, as she leaned back, balancing her chair on two legs. "Nyara. My old man is an adventurer, and I’m planning on being even better than him. I'm what you'd call a Sword Mage. But despite that, I stay the fuck out of melee combat. The sword increases my range, but it's not really meant for parrying or stabbing. Too fragile."

The blonde studied him, as if weighing the truth in his words. "I am Rose Valcrest. My family has trained Arc Wardens for generations. My specialty as a Sage, is the healing arts given by the Goddess Laurelin, and enhancement magic. I'd like to know yours, before everyone else speaks."

Drake glanced around, and noted that when Rose spoke, everyone else in Class Seven listened. For varying reasons no doubt, but even the silver fox teen stayed quiet when she spoke. He nodded, and said, "In the interest of honesty...I'm very much a newbie. I have three skills so far, my level is single digits, but you're right, my potential was classed as an Arc Warden's, so I was brought here."

"And your class?" Rose asked.

Drake nodded again, she'd shared hers, so it was only fair. "My Status listed it as Monk."

From the other side of the hulking leonid, came the hissing tones of the emerald scaled lizard teen who'd apparently sat down without anyone noticing. "What...the fuck...issss a Monk?"

Drake blinked, and looked around, as the others echoed his question. "Do...do you guys really not have Monks, here?"

Rose answered him. "No...none of us have ever heard that word, let alone what class it is or what it does." Her beautiful features furrowed. "Explain, please. If we're to work together, we need to know."

"A Monk is..." Drake started, as he struggled to find the right words, and then settled for what would help Rose the most. "I'm a melee fighter. Most of my attacks are close to mid range. My skills so far seem to deal damage and have a brief stun...I don't know what they'll be like as I level up, since apparently...I'm the first Monk here. I'll probably need light armor so I can move around and dodge, and my fists are my primary weapon. There's more, but that should suffice for now."

Rose smiled at him, and Drake felt his heart quicken again. She really was just absurdly beautiful. "That was a useful assessment, Drake." Her gorgeous emerald eyes had him snared. "I look forward to learning your class with you, and seeing how you grow. There is...an air of destiny about you that's..." She let her sentence trail off, and Nyara butted in, seizing the pause to fill the air with her sassy tone.

"So wait, you punch things until they die? That's it!? What kind of Arc Warden doesn't use a weapon? What kind of damage dealing melee class doesn't have at least medium armor? You're gonna die, kid. The Goblin archers will turn you into a pincushion before you ever get close."

Drake smirked at her. "Actually, if I'm right about my future abilities, catching things like arrows or bolts will be within my skill set. I'll be just fine. Now, let's hear from the rest of the class, shall we? Names too, if you all don't mind. I'll try to remember them."

The dark-haired class rep in the making adjusted his glasses slightly, making them purposefully obscure his sharp, narrow eyes as they caught the light. "Vincent, of the noble House of Kei. I'm an Enchanter. Strategy and tactics are my specialty. I study how to control the battlefield before the fight even starts. Most charge in thinking strength or speed alone will decide a match, but positioning, information, and strategy win wars." He adjusted the cuffs of his uniform. "I analyze patterns, predict enemy movements, and manipulate engagements to ensure victory. My spells are largely supportive and controlling, barriers, illusions, and forced movement effects to dictate the flow of combat. I can also use a few decent attack spells, enhancement magic, and low tier healing and magic restoration spells."

Vincent then glanced at Drake, a knowing glint behind his spectacles. "If you're planning to fight with just your fists, you'd better learn how to think ahead, or you'll be a dead man walking the moment a real battle begins."

The leonid brute finished tearing into a piece of meat and finally spoke, his voice deep and steady. "Garret."

Drake turned his head to look at the hulking leonid and waited for more. Garret swallowed his bite, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and added, "I'm what you'd call a Knight. Tanking is what I do best. Holding the line. Taking hits on my shield, so others don’t have to."

He then gave Drake an appraising look, his red eyes narrowing slightly. "Getting up close to punch things, though? Takes guts. Even the best Arc Wardens prefer attacking the spawn of Dagorath from a distance."

Drake smirked. "Well, I don’t really have much of a choice. It's what my class is built for."

Garret let out a low chuckle, nodding approvingly. "Then I hope you’re fast. Otherwise, we’re gonna need to find you some better armor."

Finally, the silver-haired trickster smirked. "Leif. I hide in the shadows, and I'm quite fast. I use knives and a bow, but all my skills are suited to gathering information, and dealing quick bursts of damage. If you see me out in the open and in melee combat, I'm having a bad day."

Drake chuckled. "A Rogue, then? I understand. If I ever see you struggling, I'll lend a fist or two." The fox man smirked, but seemed to appreciate that.

Before they could continue, another tray clattered onto the table beside the tabby colored cat girl. Tala, the lapine girl, had arrived, her long ears twitching as she settled beside the cat girl smoothly, having no doubt already heard their conversation even from the line. "You guys are being too nosy," She said with a cheerful huff, her voice lilting playfully. She shot Drake a reassuring smile, one that felt far more welcoming than the calculated assessments from the others. "If he wants to punch things, let him. I think it's very interesting that you're a class we've never heard of. You must be special, eh Rose?"

The elf coughed, only the faintest of flushes marking her cheeks, but then it faded as fast as it had appeared, and she nodded. "If he's the only Monk, then one would assume he's special." The two girls shared a silent, intense stare then, and Drake blinked, wondering if he was sensing what he thought he was sensing. Maybe if his charisma had been naturally higher, he might've been more sure.

Tala turned to Drake then, her soft brown eyes bright with curiosity but absent of pressure. "I'm a Cleric, by the way. Healing and protection spells are my specialty. I'll keep you alive, no need to worry, but if you could avoid getting hurt so I can focus on healing our tank, that would be great!" She giggled, but Drake had a feeling she was being serious, and telling him, in so many words, not to stand in the fire. Thankfully, he'd played enough MMOs to understand his role. She continued, bubbly as ever. "Need help figuring out your schedule? Class Seven can be overwhelming at first. I can show you the easiest paths between buildings."

Drake chuckled, appreciating the rescue from the interrogation. "That might not be a bad idea. I'm still getting my bearings."

Tala helped him after that, and he learned that Sethis, the lizard man, was also a tank class, though instead of a shield, he used a massive greatsword, and a small buckler. For a tank, he did quite a lot of damage, though his actual blocking skills were nowhere near Garret's. Drake knew he'd prefer to be behind the hulking leonid. The members of their class who hadn't joined them were Zara, the darker toned human who was apparently what people called a War Mage, the dark elf, Lyria, was a Sorceror, which was apparently just a War Mage that used summoned elemental minions to supplement her role as a damage dealer, and the crimson merman, Caelum, who was apparently a Sage like Rose, though instead of enhancement, his affinity for water magic made him a healer, and an off-damage dealer.

By the time the meal ended, Drake had earned a mixture of begrudging respect and genuine curiosity from his new peers. The jabs, the assessments, the playful skepticism, it was all a means of weighing him, testing his presence, his confidence. But more importantly, it was inclusion. He wasn’t just some outsider being observed from afar. He was already becoming part of the rhythm of Class Seven, tangled in their web of rivalries, friendships, and unspoken rules. That distinction made all the difference.

As they stood to clear their trays, Rose lingered for a moment, glancing at Drake before finally speaking. "You didn’t crack under their pressure. That’s a good sign."

Drake smirked at her. "Was that a test?"

"Everything here is a test," She replied mysteriously, before turning to leave.

Garret clapped a heavy hand on Drake’s shoulder, nearly knocking him off balance. "You don’t spook easy. That’s rare in a striker."

"Not much point in fighting if I’m afraid to take a hit," Drake said with a shrug.

Tala laughed, her long ears twitching with amusement. "I like this one. He might actually last a week."

Vincent, adjusting his glasses, offered a small nod of approval. "We’ll see if he lasts longer than that. The Academy is not forgiving."

Drake chuckled, shaking his head as they exited the cafeteria together. Whatever this place had in store for him, he wasn’t facing it alone. He had a solid group in the classmates who'd deigned to introduce themselves, and he'd be glad to have any one of them in his party. Indeed, they were all over level thirty, and he really hoped he didn't bring them down because of that.

Unlike conventional physical education, their next class was designed for practical survival in Dungeons. The massive training grounds in one of the campus's main buildings were split into several magically controlled battlefields, each simulating different dungeon environments, rocky caverns, dense forests, crumbling ruins, etcetera. The instructors wasted no time in forming teams, pairing students randomly, but also based on their roless. Drake was assigned as a damage dealer once Instructor Aslan confirmed that no one knew what a Monk was, thus, as a close-quarters fighter responsible for dealing swift and decisive blows while evading counterattacks, he'd been relegated to DPS. His team consisted of Vincent, who took the role of tactician and battlefield controller, Garret, the unshakable tank who anchored their defenses, and Tala, the team's cleric. Though her natural Lapine agility made her an excellent scout, her true strength lay in support magic. Her spells reinforced Garret’s defenses, mended wounds mid-combat, and bolstered their endurance, ensuring they could last in extended engagements.

The other team, consisting of Sethis, Rose, Leif, and Zara went before them, and performed quite well on a battlefield of ice against a elemental golem made of stone. Leif was less than useless with his daggers, so Zara had been forced to expend quite a lot of her magic power to compensate his lack of damage. Rose had also had to apply several damaging spells that drained health over time, and Sethis was able to close the gap with mighty strikes from his greatsword, as he kept the golem focused on him, and tanked its brutal hits with his weapon, and Rose's potent healing magic.

When it was their turn to face a summoned construct, they found themselves on a mountainous piece of terrain. The cliff sides rose high, making it into a small canyon, with limited space to move. As their construct burned to life in a tornado of flame, Drake swore. The one element he'd been hoping he wouldn't have to face, on literally his first day. With more time, he could've at least tried experimenting with water, or earth. His teammates were Garret, Vincent, and Tala, and with that team composition, dealing damage was almost entirely on him. Without him, they wouldn't bring down their target within the time limit, which was as good as failing.

"What's wrong, Drake?" Vincent asked, worried for his grade point average.

"I did say I had three skills, yea? Well...the most damaging one changes my attacks into fire damage...and I don't think punches will do much against that!" The burning cyclone roared, not waiting for the party, and Garret stepped forward, shield at the ready. The flames parted around his massive frame, and the other three hid behind him.

"Well...figure something out!" Vincent shouted, as he and Tala split once the flames stopped, forcing the construct to divide its attention. "You're our damage dealer! Deal damage!"

Garret looked back at him from behind his shield, and grinned confidently, making an impressive form in his basic plate armor. "I’ll draw its attention! You find a way to hit it where it hurts. We're counting on you, newbie!"

The massive Leonid charged, planting his feet firmly before meeting the beast’s burning claw strike head-on. A loud clang rang through the training grounds as Garret’s enchanted armor absorbed the impact, his sheer bulk keeping the creature occupied. "Vincent!"

Vincent, standing further back atop a small cliff now, eyes flicking between their positions, adjusted his glasses so they caught the light. "Tala, circle around and mark it with DoTs! Drake, do something!"

Tala darted up another cliff behind the construct, her lapine agility allowing her to weave between the beast’s wild swings. She began casting three spells in a row, each one landing like a weight upon the construct, weakening it, and slowing it down. "Damage over time is active!" She called out.

Drake gritted his teeth. Fire wasn’t going to work. His basic strikes wouldn’t land with enough force to matter, and though he probably could have attempted a Flurry of Blows, he also knew that would be negligible at his level. The construct was at his teammate's level, though it had, mercifully, been lowered so he could at least damage it enough for them to pass. He needed something else besides fire. His nerdy mind thought back to Laurelin's lesson, and the stereotypes that had led him to new skills. Once again, Pokémon entered his mind. What beat fire? Water, obviously, but there was none around. All he had were rocks. Then, he remembered, rock and ground moves also beat fire types. Firefighters dumped not only water, but sand and dirt on, for example, forest fires empowered by ridiculously high winds, and a climate suffering from the massive pollution humanity was causing. Figuring if it had helped in California it would help here, Drake quickly sent his will into the rock and stone around them, desperately forcing them to react to his magical commands.

And the earth responded.

With a sharp exhale, he spun in a smooth spiral out to the side of Garret's bulk, and drove his palm into the ground. Jagged stone erupted in an instant, like a proper Stone Edge, as it raced towards his target. The once solid terrain became his weapon, sharp rock formations jutting upward, knocking the beast off balance as he hammered it with a surprise strike to its 'jaw'. As it staggered, Drake moved, using his agility and the raised stones like stepping platforms to launch himself higher. Warping the final stone around his feet as he leaped heroically into the air, he twisted his body and came down with an explosive heel drop, striking the creature's 'head' and sending it to the ground. He shouted at his teammates. "NOW!"

Vincent reacted, as he'd been charging up a powerful ice spell that wouldn't immediately melt, all he'd needed was an opening. Garret stabbed his sword into the construct's 'neck' as it was stunned, the magical weapon keeping it pinned, as Vincent's spell lanced forth in a line of frost. Tala healed Garret as he stepped back from the beast with smoldering fur, and Drake followed the ice with a downright brutal beatdown from his now rock-encased fists. Within thirty seconds, and after another Ray of Frost, the construct dissipated, and Drake fell onto his ass, panting hard. He wordlessly expressed his thanks to the stone, not sure if they could grok him, but glad that his gambit had worked out in the end. He felt Tala's magic surge into him, and realized he'd also been pretty badly burned. He hadn't even noticed. With as little damage as his earth enhanced fists had done, his entire focus had been punching the fire elemental as fast as possible, until it died.

Silence followed before Garret let out a low, approving rumble. "Not bad, newbie. Most people wouldn’t have figured out a new skill that quickly."

Vincent adjusted his glasses again, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Still inefficient, but adaptable. It seems Monks have a proclivity towards elemental magic."

Tala grinned, as she hopped down, and helped Drake up. "I’d say that was a solid first run. Not bad, handsome." She winked at him, and he felt his face heat up in a manner that had nothing to do with almost burning to death.

Drake let out a breath and centered himself, rolling his shoulders as the tension in his muscles slowly faded. His entire body ached from the intensity of the battle, but the rush of victory was worth the considerable effort that his earthbending had taken. His magical power was still fine though, barely even a sliver had been used, but despite that, it had still drained him physically, as if strength was also a factor. He wondered if earthbending would also improve his other skills, and resolved to try a workout with the various elements when he had time. That could be his solution to making sure all of his stats rose with every level.

Aslan came over to them, as they walked off the field. "Very well done, Drake Long." He rumbled. "I threw fire at you on purpose. I was made aware of your skills...and wondered how you would react. And in the flames of combat, your strength has grown! As has your level, I see. Well done indeed. Now, clean yourselves up. We've still three more classes before the day is done." Class Seven groaned, but did as they were instructed. The other groups were not thrilled that the newbie had upstaged them with his performance having drawn Aslan's eye, but not one of their groups had failed to take out their construct.

The next class was Advanced Magic Control, which required absolute precision and teamwork, forcing students to wield arcane forces with discipline rather than raw power as they shaped their magic together, weaving it to form something fragile, like a vase, in his group's case. Drake was paired with Rose and Tala for the class competency assessment, and thanks to the budding love triangle forming between them, which Drake took all class to even notice, not one of them performed very well. Rose’s magic was elegant and refined, but she kept glancing at Tala and Drake, and losing her focus thanks to her rising anger.

Tala, for her part, was too focused on helping the newbie instead of her own magic control, and Drake, despite his best efforts, was trying to suppress the powerful mix of male hormones that surged into his dumb ape brain every time Tala's glorious breasts pressed into his back, or his side. After the tenth time, he knew it had to be on purpose. He appreciated that she found him attractive, but it was frustrating to lose his magical focus every time his instincts said, 'Look! Tits!' He'd forgotten how incessant a teenage male mind could be.

He hadn't put much thought into le romance, as he was used to either being ignored by women, or being too obtuse to notice their subtle cues. Nothing about this was subtle though, and he found himself with a moral dilemma. Both Tala and Rose were going to become exceptionally gorgeous women, he had no doubt. The problem, was that he was mentally twice their age, and his stupid body, was not. It was very much eager to swipe its V-card. Drake was fairly sure that would be immoral, and yet every time he tried bringing it up to Tala, she barreled over his words with niceness, forcing him to focus on the lesson, y'know, at least until her giant tits pressed into him again, and shattered his focus. This in turn, had often made Rose lose focus, and shatter their forming vase. By the end of the class, Drake was properly sweating, not entirely from exertion, Rose had a red mark on her refined nose from where she kept pinching it, every time Drake's concentration had faltered, and Tala seemed very pleased with herself.

Their next class, Dungeon Tactics, delved into the recorded experiences of past explorers, dissecting the perils that lay in the depths of the unknown. Unlike the previous class, this one was far more theoretical, relying on maps, historical accounts, and strategic breakdowns of famous expeditions. Vincent thrived here, answering the instructor’s questions with crisp, methodical explanations. When a scenario was presented, a hypothetical dungeon filled with shifting traps and monstrous guardians, Vincent sketched out three different plans in mere minutes.

Drake, for his part, also excelled at this, using his raw intelligence stat to keep pace with Vincent, much to his irritation. This culminated in a final example of a truly absurd Dungeon layout, involving spring jumps, spike pits, floating ever-rotating flails that would knock people out of the air, and of course, not one, but three fucking lava pits. Drake had questioned the veracity of the layout, wondering aloud if Dungeons actually became this ridiculous, at which point he learned that the older the Dungeon Boss, the more clever they tended to be. While Vincent had tried to carefully strategize around each trap, Drake had asked Aslan what powered things like ever-rotating flails, and the answer, was always magic. Dispel Magic was indeed a thing, and quite a common spell across classes as it turned out, so Drake had his theoretical party, displayed by a magical approximation, Dispel most of their traps, claimed he could cool the lava either with water or by firebending the heat from it, and at that point they had still had enough spells at the end to theoretically face the boss and win. Vincent's party, had not, as his overly complex plan had confused them, and their magical simulation of the Dungeon ended in repeated failures, while Drake managed the final win.

Much to his relief, Tala had been partnered on Vincent's team, and Rose seemed to have regained a little respect for him after he managed to out-strategize Vincent. The Enchanter was clearly upset with his loss, but Drake had walked over to him at the end of the class saying, "If our parties ever end up split in a Dungeon, I'll feel better knowing at least one of us is with them. And if we're in the same one, well...I weep for whatever Boss we encounter. It won't know what hit it." The two had shaken hands, but Vincent still seemed resolved to beat him next time. Drake, and his unfairly boosted intelligence supplemented by decades of dungeon crawling in video and tabletop games on Earth, wished him luck.

Obscene Beasts and How to Kill Them, by far Drake's favorite class title, was exactly what it sounded like. The Instructor, Kang, was a battle-scarred bovinid man, a veteran with an eye patch and a love for dramatic storytelling. He took the class from Aslan as the leonid took a well-earned break, and guided the students through the horrifying abominations that Dagorath had spewed into the world, creature by creature, including their theorized origins, and the known extent of their abilities. The class was held underground, and the stone brick walls flickered with magical projections of towering monstrosities, their twisted forms shifting as the instructor described their habits, weaknesses, and worst-case scenarios. Drake recognized far too many of them, yet another reminder that Dimensional Echoes were at work, though thankfully his D&D knowledge often turned out to be wrong, as he got a name for a creature slightly wrong, or gave it an ability it wasn't known to have. He proved competent, but Kang eyed him with a weird look whenever this happened, probably because Drake always sounded sure of himself, and wary from what had to be experience. He let out a sigh of relief when the Instructor continued the lesson without mentioning certain nightmare-inducing creatures, like Beholders, or a Tarrasque. Some creatures were better left on the tabletop.

By the end of the day, Drake was assigned his dormitory. The fourth floor's twentieth room. That made him chuckle, as he had always celebrated the Highest of Earth Holidays with gusto, and weed. He briefly wondered if Arcadia had hemp, but then remembered, his teenaged brain wasn't ready for drugs, and they were probably against the Code of Conduct that he'd been issued, but hadn't actually read. The hallways of the dormitory wing were lined with thick wooden doors, each marked with glowing runes to indicate their magical security enchantments.

Pushing his door open, he stepped into a spacious room, far more lavish than he had anticipated. There were three large beds, each separated by wooden partitions to afford a modicum of privacy. A single enchanted lantern hung in the center, casting a warm glow. Bookshelves lined one side of the room, already filled with various tomes, likely courtesy of one of his roommates. A sturdy desk occupied the far corner, covered in carefully arranged notes, diagrams, and spell matrices. The air held the faint scent of parchment, ink, and unwashed teenage male.

Drake’s arrival did not go unnoticed. One of his roommates, Vincent, was already seated at the desk, meticulously reviewing a thick tome, his glasses reflecting the lantern’s glow. He barely spared Drake a glance before returning to his studies, though his silence spoke volumes. He would not be defeated so easily again. The other, was the sharp-eyed merman with deep crimson hair and a handsome face, Caelum, who looked up from his own book, offering a polite nod. "Ah, Drake Long. We didn't have a chance to meet today. I am Caelum Triton, a Sage who specializes in healing and offensive water magic. I expect we will be seeing much of each other in the coming months."

Drake set his bag down on the empty bed, glancing between the two. "Good to meet you, Caelum. Hope you don’t mind a bit of company."

Caelum gave a faint smile. "As long as you do not mind the faint smell of the ocean and fish, we should be just fine."

Vincent finally spoke, not looking up from his book. "Try to keep the noise level reasonable. Unlike some, I intend to spend my nights refining my strategies, not causing disruptions."

Drake smirked. "Duly noted."

As the night stretched on, Drake sat on his bed, status screen hovering before him. The events of the day replayed in his mind; the battles, the lessons, the romance, the tests of wit and willpower. He had expected this world to challenge him, but not in the ways it already had. More than the combat, the camaraderie, and the lessons, it was the simple fact that he had carved out a place for himself here, however tenuous. He wasn’t just an anime enjoyer watching events unfold. He was in it now, truly part of some great story that had yet to even properly start.

He checked his status one final time, smirked at the visible progress he'd made, and then quickly fell into a deep sleep, thoroughly exhausted from the day.

image [https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/107dc055-197f-4c79-a8d4-bf5e3018e03b/dj3eqtf-e10a510a-eed9-45c8-ae09-bbaabd9a32df.jpg/v1/fill/w_901,h_887,q_70,strp/status_magic_2_by_pokefan1337_dj3eqtf-pre.jpg?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7ImhlaWdodCI6Ijw9MTU0NCIsInBhdGgiOiJcL2ZcLzEwN2RjMDU1LTE5N2YtNGM3OS1hOGQ0LWJmNWUzMDE4ZTAzYlwvZGozZXF0Zi1lMTBhNTEwYS1lZWQ5LTQ1YzgtYWUwOS1iYmFhYmQ5YTMyZGYuanBnIiwid2lkdGgiOiI8PTE1NjkifV1dLCJhdWQiOlsidXJuOnNlcnZpY2U6aW1hZ2Uub3BlcmF0aW9ucyJdfQ.z_ijpHkopVY7YZHCqkaM-IXYwDXelcDSh76jI3Dmstg] image [https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/107dc055-197f-4c79-a8d4-bf5e3018e03b/dj3er6j-51b7414e-2d5f-4ebe-b487-1927251fdc54.jpg/v1/fit/w_828,h_1046,q_70,strp/skills_status_2_by_pokefan1337_dj3er6j-414w-2x.jpg?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7ImhlaWdodCI6Ijw9MTk4MSIsInBhdGgiOiJcL2ZcLzEwN2RjMDU1LTE5N2YtNGM3OS1hOGQ0LWJmNWUzMDE4ZTAzYlwvZGozZXI2ai01MWI3NDE0ZS0yZDVmLTRlYmUtYjQ4Ny0xOTI3MjUxZmRjNTQuanBnIiwid2lkdGgiOiI8PTE1NjkifV1dLCJhdWQiOlsidXJuOnNlcnZpY2U6aW1hZ2Uub3BlcmF0aW9ucyJdfQ.wqWDRjrRfKG56aCXOAz3sk16Jr3XCZPN74ko4gidK0E]

His dreams were not to be undisturbed however, as his unconscious mind was enveloped in a golden glow. "So, my Hero, how was the first day of the rest of your new life?"

Drake groaned tiredly. "It...it was a lot. But I leveled up into double digits, at least. I won't be as much of a burden on my party, now. Although...I did umm...I did face a problem I could use your Divine guidance with."

Laurelin smirked at him, knowingly. "The flirting?"

"The flirting!" Drake said, exasperated, mumbling it loudly in his sleep. Caelum and Vincent shared a look, sighed, and tried to go back to bed. Drake continued in his head, oblivious to his roommates, "I didn't even think about it, but I mean, I'm technically twice the age of everyone in my class. The only reason I could keep up with Vincent, whose also my fucking roommate apparently, is because of my life experience, and that same experience is...making me hesitant about forming any uhh...romantic relationships."

Laurelin broke into laughter. For a solid two minutes. It just kept going every time she saw his expression.

Finally, he said, "I'm glad my awkward pain is so amusing to you, Goddess..."

She gave him a kind smile. "Drake Long, for that is who you are, now, you are a sixteen year old male. These relationships are important, and they'll last you the rest of your life. Spurning romance now will only cause problems later, when you decide you do want to woo one of them."

"But...but it's so...Wrong!" Drake countered.

Laurelin fixed him with a stare, then. "I'm going to be blunt, Drake, and I need you to hear me. Your past life's romantic exploits were...objectively sad." Drake winced, but Laurelin kept going, and did not hold back. If she was going to watch his exploits, she wanted some romantic spice, and though she'd never admit it, she was one hundred percent the reason Rose Valcrest had ended up in his eventual class. Drake hadn't remembered the reference that was his name yet, but she certainly had, to her amusement. She hadn't expected Tala, though. Laurelin knew, if she wanted her dose of drama, she had to break down this admittedly fair hangup her Hero had, and make him understand the objective truth, harsh though it was.

"Your first relationship was ended by parental interference, and a relocation. The next three were all long distance, over the Internet, and didn't really count. Your most serious one ended abruptly when it also became long distance, and she eventually left you for someone closer, and the final one barely counted as a relationship because you had, by your definition, 'checked out' already and determined your Earth had enough people living on it. The epitome of casual, that one."

"I get it, I was awkward and incompetent at love." Drake muttered. He wasn't used to Laurelin being so blunt. He'd also thought he was over his romantic incompetence, but her words had cut him deep.

"My point is, Drake, your past life's choices did not a Lothario make. Your actual experience, is about the same as an average teenager, but you have the added benefit of understanding what not to do, what goes where, and what to stimulate to get results. You have the means, motive, and opportunity to have a proper teenage romance, so take my advice: do not hold back. Trust your heart, and you won't regret it. You are once again a teenager, and should not feel guilty for experiencing perfectly normal teenage desires."

Drake pondered for a long time, going silent. She was, technically right. By every metric, he was now sixteen, and though he had lived more years than his peers, they had not been spent on romance. He knew the mechanics of course, enough to achieve the basic goal of a sexual encounter, but his only actual epic romance had become long distance, and never overcame that distance again. It had also effectively broken his heart, and his hope of finding a 'soul mate'. "I'm...I'm just gonna see what happens, I guess." He said with a sigh. He wondered if he still wasn't over the aforementioned romance.

Laurelin nodded, smiling knowingly, and with a suppressed chuckle said, "Very well, Drake. I will let you rest. Just be aware; polygamous marriages are quite common on Arcadia! Byeeee!"

And with that, she was gone. Drake mentally narrowed his eyes, wondering at the Goddess's motivations, before tiredly letting them go. It didn't matter what she wanted, or what the common romantic entanglements on Arcadia were like; in no reality would he ever willingly create a harem.