The airship ride was extremely comfortable. The small cabins each group was put into were well-furnished and the seats really plush. The ride itself is very smooth as the large wooden vessel glides through the air. I only have a tiny window to look out of during the flight and I am able to watch the countryside go by. The slow speed and low altitude allow me to take in every sight. I can see the layout of the capitol below me and appreciate the discordant web of city streets, but despite the seeming randomness, there was a clear pattern where people traveled most and where people rarely visited. The natural sprawl of a city has its own beauty to it if you take a moment to stop and appreciate it.

The ride is what I assume is around half an hour, despite the comparatively low speed compared to airplanes these airships appear to be the fastest mass transport available. I will have to look into them for supply chains, or potentially make them myself. I make a mental note of this and relax, the frustration of earlier events gone from my mind as I think about potential profits.

I am unable to see the academy due to the aft position of my cabin, and what I assume is a very outstretched dock. I can see out my window though that we are still in the sky as the ship comes to a thundering stop as it slams into the docks. I am unsure whether this is purposeful or was a major accident. I stick my head out of the door of my cabin and look into the hall where an attendant stands calmly. Seeing the lack of surprise from the woman I relax and go back into my cabin.

Outside the window, small flying boats zip around. They are about eighteen to thirty feet long each. I can see sitting in the center of these small ships are large glowing apparatuses that seem to be made of either stone or metal. I assume this is the part that allows them to fly. Like the large ships, they all appear to be wind-powered and have dozen-man crews working the lines while they do whatever work they are doing to the larger ship.

I hear a commotion outside of my cabin and then there is a gentle knock. I open the door and the attendant lets me know that we are now disembarking. I nod and get up and sling the spear over my shoulder and begin to leave the ship. I am led to the top deck and finally see the academy or should I say palace.

There is a clear central building that takes on the visage of a Germanic-style castle with high spires with conical roofs. The other buildings surrounding appear to be all made of stone with large windows, many have large free-standing domes on top of them giving the whole area a strange look, a hybrid look of German-style and Byzantine-style buildings, tall spires mixed with domes. The stone every building is made with appears to be some kind of white limestone. Surrounding the entire floating island is an iron fence, bent into artistic shapes. Everything here is designed to be decorative, a wedding cake-type place.

Mekare and I make our way down the gangway along with everyone else. We walk through the main gates with the crowd. I just go with the flow not knowing really where I am supposed to be. Eventually, the crowd stops in front of a building, and a large line forms, well less of a line and more of a crowd all waiting to move forward. I am somewhere in the middle of the crowd as we slowly move forward. I keep taking in my surroundings and appreciating the architecture and landscaping of the academy. People around me visit quietly as we wait. I look around at the nearby people and someone catches my eye. A woman in a maid uniform, standing equal to my height in me with very muted short brown hair. She also has yellow eyes and what looks to be large freckles on her ears, but I know they are actually tattoos of spots. With a devilish smile, I make a sound.

The sound I make is in the back of my throat but still high pitched as I can make it. The sound starts with an opening high-pitched noise and quickly and sharply drops low. After a few sharp yips I end with a single high note that is held into a lower note. The sound can be described as a horrible-sounding laugh. The best description for the noise would be,

"YI YI YI YI AWWWWWW"

The woman flinches and without thinking responds with a different version. A much sharper and quicker,

"YEAU YEAU YEAU"

She does this in very rapid succession where it sounds very similar to a laugh. Her head snaps over to me as she covers her mouth in shame. Her eyes go wide when she sees me. I don't know this woman, but I know where she comes from. She is another Hound of Luna. From a group known as the Red Hyenas. They are known for their horrible laughing sound during combat, the sound is such an important cultural thing for them that they make the sound unconsciously in response when someone else makes it. Kinda like a Midwesterner saying "Ope". I will admit they do make a very convincing hyena laugh, mine was very poor but the one she made in response was spot on.

I stand there smiling at my little prank as she walks toward me, tailing behind a very angry-looking young woman. The short lady storms up to me and puts a finger in my face and scolds me saying,

"How dare you bring back that habit of my slave! I worked hard to break that habit. That laughing is beyond annoying!"

I laugh and reply,

"Well I'm sorry miss important, but I wanted to know the correct way to greet her."

The short lady looks up at me confused and I smile at the hyena. Her eyes widen in understanding for a second before she nods at me lightly. Since I was honor guard I had to learn all the major cultural norms of every group within the Hounds of Luna. I approach the tall woman and drop to one knee before taking her hand. She then brings it up and caresses it under my chin working to the top of my head. Once there she pulls her hand back and nods.

The short lady looks at us both bewildered along with a few others surrounding us. Once back on my feet I turn toward the short woman. She then asks me,

"What the hell are you doing? Are you not here as a student along with the rest of us? Why would you show such a lowly slave respect?"

I shake my head responding,

"I see you don't understand her culture. Basically in the place, where she comes from, women are in a higher position than males, but what I did is the bare minimum for a man to greet a woman. I mean if you want I can do the one for the Stella Coyote, but you won't like it even more."

The woman steps back and she asks,

"Wait... you're an Outcast like her?"

I nod and reply,

"That and I am from an adjacent group to hers."

The woman asks,

"How are you here? What family do you belong to."

I smile knowing I am about to blow her little kind,

"I am the adopted son of the Hasslerouge family. "

Suddenly she appears to have a change of heart toward me and she calms down immediately. I look behind me at Mekare who is flashing a small crest of the Hasslerouge family. I mouth,

"Thank you."

To her as she did back me up. And suddenly it appears I am quite popular. Nearby people start trying to talk to me, not sure what, because they all are speaking at once, I am quickly overwhelmed by this but I am able to lean in close to the small woman and ask,

"May I speak with your slave? I have some questions."

She smiles at me and nods replying,

"Of course m'lord. Feel free to ask me, oldest daughter of the Fulridge family for anything you need."

I nod with a sigh now regretting sharing my affiliations. I pull on the hyenas sleeve until she is close and I begin speaking to her in the Howl of the Moon language, which she does seem to understand.

"It's good to see a sister. I apologize for the trouble. I just wanted your attention."

She responds in the same language,

"It is quite alright brother. I will admit it is quite funny. Your knowledge of our customs is admirable. You even managed to make my heart skip a beat. I so much prefer the brothers of other groups."

I laugh remembering how effeminate the men of the Red Hyenas were. Generally around five foot five and with very soft features. Honestly quite funny. I reply to the woman,

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

"Oh my, are you that easy where a young wiley Coyote can poach your heart?"

She stifles another one of those hyena laughs and then asks me,

"May I know your name? Mine is Henna."

I nod and say back,

"I am Isa, now Isa Hasslerouge after being adopted but the Duke."

She nods thinking for a moment and asks in response,

"For what reason have you been adopted? What angle? What horrors did you endure to gain that favor?"

I shake my head and respond,

"I have faced many, but for my adoption, I was made into the dog of the family. While I no longer wear shackles I am not truly free I fear. I have duties I am expected to fulfill and those duties are of the direst kind."

She nods thinking about my answer for a second and asks me,

"Have you seen any other brothers or sisters since you have been taken from your home?"

I tilt my head from side to side and reply,

"Not really. I've come across a young Mako and that is all. Aside from my initial bondage, I have not found any more of our kind. What have you endured sister?"

She shakes her head sadly and explains,

"I have fared quite poorly in these conditions. I was on the path of the matriarch when I was a free woman. It was hard to take orders from men at first, but eventually, I was broken..."

I grimace and reply,

"Do not say that now sister. You only have done what is needed to both survive and avoid unnecessary agony. You are only broken if you allow yourself to be."

She smiles lightly and expresses,

"I see your point brother. Thank you for your words of encouragement. They have mended a hole in my heart.

If I were still in the position of my past I would have rewarded you justly, but for now, you have my gratitude."

In the distance I notice the crowd parting as someone moves in my direction. I ignore it for now as Henna asks me carefully,

"You seem familiar though. Where might I have seen you before?"

Before I can either dodge or answer the question a hand grabs me by my collar and I am whipped around to be face-to-face with a smaller version of Zeyra. I mean identical in every way but build and maturity. I remember her from the supper on my first night in the Hasslerouge family. Behind her closely is Zandra who stares at me with her usual cold gaze. The Zeyra lookalike meets my gaze with an expression of furious anger. She pulls me down to eye level and says to me angrily,

"There you are Outcast. You were supposed to meet us before you try anything. Are you mentally disabled or something? Come with us!"

I am half dragged along as I wave goodbye to Henna. I am pulled out of the crowd and through the grounds of the academy until we stop in front of a villa. I am released and I ask,

"Uhhh... Where did you take me?"

She shakes her head furiously and replies,

"We don't wait for housing like the other, lower nobles. We have a family villa at the academy. That line was for housing assignments. Now come inside before you can dishonor our family further."

I shake my head frustratedly and follow her into the very nice villa. She doesn't speak to me but just points toward a door. I go into that room and find a comfy-looking bedroom with my travel chest waiting for me at the foot of my bed. I set my father's spear against the wall and sit down on the bed. I lay down on the plush mattress and decide to take a little nap. I'm sure I'll be awoken by miss busybody if I am needed somewhere. I know I wasn't where I was supposed to be, but I literally wasn't told where to go! How can I be expected to know where to go?

Still, I am grateful for avoiding dorms. This villa seems very nice and gives me a space away from the crowds it seems due to the somewhat secluded location. I think I'm slowly getting used to the perks of not only being nobility but nobility of the highest degree. I probably won't ever get used to people approaching me as they did earlier, I don't care much for being the absolute center of attention. Thinking about it, it must be really hard for the girls. They are all pretty damn gorgeous, mixed with the fame from ranking, I assume they get a few proposals every day. I guess there are some hardships to a noble life, but in the end, nobles can always dry their tears with their cash if needed.

Finding I am unable to fall asleep and feeling a little peckish I get to my feet and leave my room. Zandra is sitting in the main room reading a small book and minding her own business. She doesn't even look up at me as expected. The other sister is nowhere to be seen which means I won't have a headache for a hot minute. I can't find Mekare and I really don't care to find her either. Standing by the front entrance is a servant lady I recognize from the manor, but I never spoke to her. She politely waves at me and I nod toward her. I'm glad that made its rounds in the staff. I had asked a few of them nicely to not bow to me as it made me feel awkward so a simple "hello" or a friendly wave suffices if they must acknowledge my existence.

I walk to the back door of the villa and step into the backyard which is surrounded by a decorative stone wall about eight feet high and topped with decorative, yet functional spikes. Next to the door is another servant woman from the manor who nods at me respectfully and I return the same. In the yard is the Zeyra lookalike and she appears to be practicing swordsmanship. She is doing that standing-in-one-place thing and swinging the sword repeatedly in stiff downward strikes. If I remember correctly it's to build conditioning in the arms.

After a few more moments of this exercise, she then begins a match against an invisible foe. She strikes and blocks as if her opponent were of the highest caliber. I watch her movements carefully and take note of one thing, everything she is doing is completely fundamental. Every slash is well-practiced, but robotic and stiff looking despite the speed of the attack. Her thrusts come after set intervals of fake blocks and slashes. I would say she has practiced for a very long time, and with very good fundamentals, but that's it, she has no grace to her attacks. A well-oiled machine yes, but still a machine, predictable and steady.

During one of her attacks, she notices me watching and with a huff stabs her sword into the ground in front of her. She places both hands on the end pommel as she faces me and smugly asks,

"Impressed? I'm one of the best swordsmen in my class."

I nod and before I can stop myself I speak professionally and very truthfully, my analytical mind taking over my reasonable one,

"While very well practiced, your swordsmanship is quite lacking. Not in departments of speed and I assume strength, and of course, without an opponent, I cannot gauge your timing capabilities, but your style is very... fundamental.

Having good fundamentals is great of course, but having only them makes you rely on your physical aspects too much, and you will fall short if you are physically lesser than your opponent."

She glares at me mouth agape in shock. She then angrily states,

"I am of the Hasslerouge family, my magical ability makes up for any physical shortcomings."

I then ask,

"What if you don't have the time or capability to cast your spells?"

This stumps her and she asks angrily,

"And when would that be a possibility?"

I shrug and reply nonchalantly,

"An ambush that fails to kill you on the first strike, you are gagged so you cant say the spell, you got throat chopped, or lastly an enemy keeps the pressure on before you can do your thing."

She laughs and exclaims,

"And when in a competition would these things be possible?"

I raise my eyebrows and ask her,

"Do you think a sword is a tool only for sport?"

She laughs replying,

"We are of the highest nobility, we are not required to partake on the field of battle. That is for lower classes."

I shake my head with a light laugh and explain,

"Just because you sit high above the rest doesn't mean an assassin can't climb, or that an enemy won't bring a ladder to reach you.

Life isn't simple enough to allow someone perfect safety due to their ranking alone. "

This actually makes her think for a second and she nods conceding that point but then states,

"Yes. I guess your point does have some merit there, but my focus is on winning and doing better than my peers in duels.

My biggest question though is this,

My sword style is considered one of the most advanced on this continent, I was taught by one of the top swordmasters, and they claimed to have taught me everything they know. So tell me, how is my style basic and fundamental? What would you know that my master didn't?

I sigh and shake my head and reply,

"Hand me a sword and I'll show you."

She motions to my right and I see a shitty practice sword leaning against the wall. I nod and take it up. While not a capable weapon, and horribly off-balance it should do for some simple practicing. I spread my arms and stretch before getting in a stance. My right leg is forward slightly with my foot turned inward. I put my weight right in the center of my hips allowing me to stay balanced. I hold the sword in one hand and raise my offhand with my palm opened wide. I then say to her,

"Go ahead... strike me down."

She nods and takes her sword from the ground. She brandishes it and rushes me. While she is impressively quick, her attack was easy to read. She slashes at me from the side, but her windup started before she even came into attacking range. I block her attack and then slide my sword down to where the crossguard touches her blade. At the moment I am basically holding my sword upside down. I then raise the tip of my blade up and toward her which then comes in contact with her crossguard. This effectively locks our swords together. I then violently twist my arm to my right which puts strain on her shoulder then I raise my handle up and make a small circle with my hand. In order to avoid breaking her wrist she drops her weapon and cries out in pain.

Quickly she picks up her blade once more and comes at me with an upward slash. I simply kick the blunt of her blade and it veers away from me. Now with her sword raised, she comes down onto me trying to split my skull. With my offhand, I catch her dominant wrist and hold my arm up high keeping it in line with my shoulder. By taking away her leverage by keeping her wrist above her head even if she had used magic to enhance strength she would be shit out of luck. I then place the practice blade on her neck and say in a shitty Russian accent,

"Boom. You are dead, no big surprise."

I release her and she sheathes her sword while shaking her head. She then says to me angrily,

"You call that sword skills? All you did was fight dirty! Where is your honor?"

I shake my head and say,

"Dead a buried with the rest of the honorable fighters in actual combat."

This stuns her for a second before she simply says,

"I will stick with my 'Basics' as you call them. I have an image to keep, I'd rather not be known as a dirty fighter."

She then storms back inside and I click my tongue while shaking my head. I don't know what was dishonorable about my conduct. Probably she is just mad about me beating her. I dunno. I put the practice sword back where I found it and find myself quite hungry now. I wonder if there is any food inside.

I walk inside to find Zandra and the salty swordswoman standing attentively facing a uniformed man. He sees me and then says,

"Now that all incoming Hasslerouge members are here we may begin. Will you all follow me to the testing facilities so that we may place you.

These tests will be compared with the entry exams and using that information we will be able to accurately put you in the classes that will suit you best. Here at the Alrius Magic academy, we put our students first so that they may bring glory to our kingdom."

I swear under my breath. This really is a stereotypical fantasy plot, isn't it?