Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School

The Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts. The Hall of Champions. Competitor’s Field. Local Time: 1145

Auris

The world stood still.

And all eyes were on me.

In front of me, a commoner — nay, a newrealmer — daring to impose a display only reserved for equals of pedigree and station.

Sheer shock kept me from moving a muscle, whilst outrage and revulsion filled my very being.

I had, for a moment, forgotten the context of this gesture.

So egregious was it that it acted as the personification of the entire day’s offenses, a symbol of defiance against what should be, a representation of rebellious contempt against what should have happened.

The supposed intent of the gesture was not lost on me.

However, what others may see as a hand extended in reconciliation, was instead a poisoned dagger, one pointed directly at my soft underbelly — where both choice and indecision spelled the same conclusion… death.

Surely others could see this too.

Surely the professor, the symbol of Nexian benevolence and an extension of His Majesty’s will, would swiftly resolve this quagmire by simply removing the offending weapon thus disarming this malicious assault!

Surely she would…

Surely she had to…

But that didn’t happen.

Nor did help in any other fashion arrive.

Instead, I was left on my lonesome, abandoned by a representative of righteousness, to succumb to the wounds inflicted upon me by the avatar of darkness itself.

Its red eyes mocked me, even as we stood as near-physical equals.

Its hand, that deceitful gesture, sent both chills and pangs of disgust straight through to my very core.

Why couldn’t anyone else see its malicious intent?

Could they not see this savage cornering a fellow civilized peer?

Why could no one else see that this gesture was simply an extension of its deceitful ways? For just as its masterfully crafted suit was designed to hide savagery beneath it, so too was this gesture extended with the intent to hide this most heinous of assaults beneath a thin visage civility; this mockery of chivalry.

I was cornered, with a dagger held to my throat amidst an audience of weak-willed onlookers.

Would somebody just do something?!

PA-RUM PA-RUM PA-RRRUM PUM PUM

That music, the much-anticipated sounds marking the prelude to the end of classes, filled the air with relief beyond all measure.

The musical troupe arrived on scene to the knowing wink of my most reliable ally amidst this sea of weak-willed ingrates.

The ever-dependable Lady Ladona had managed to even fool me in this instance, as her constructs marched ever forwards, forcing the class’ premature end.

I was saved.

SCREEEAAAACCHHHHH

A massive disturbance in the manafields marked the arrival of the house-sized wyvern, which landed with a deafening THUD, skulking its way towards the constructs with insidious intent.

The music suddenly screeched to a halt as a result, as the entire troupe was crushed to the tune of a hundred bone-shattering crunches. Only the conductor was spared, if only momentarily. His fate was to be a spectacle, as he was flung up into the air with a forepaw, before ‘landing’ within the beast’s teeth with a silent SLICE… splitting in two before dissipating into mana.

“SHE KILLED THE BAND!” Someone shouted from the crowds, prompting the professor to quickly intervene, but not before the Vunerian could chime in first.

“They weren’t the real band, you idiot.” He announced confidently. “It was a paltry parlor trick.”

“Aptly deduced, Lord Rularia.” The professor spoke, taking a moment to scratch the wyvern’s chin. “Let me be clear, class. Whilst I do consider myself to be a tolerant professor, I do not take kindly to these brazen oversteps of authority.” She took a moment to glare intently at Ladona, her wyvern doing much the same. “So please, act like the adults I believe you to be… or don’t, and be treated as the children whose behaviors you mime and mimic.”

Ladona took the best route she could at this point, hiding amongst the crowd, and blending into the audience.

The professor graciously didn’t pursue further disciplinary actions on that route.

What she did resume however, was the very situation the Anurarealmer had attempted to save me from, as the newrealmer stubbornly refused to retract that hand all throughout this brief disruption.

Time once more stood at a standstill, as I reached out a hand, before stopping halfway.

It was time to enact a plan, to propose an offer that the newrealmer could not refuse.

“I refuse to acknowledge that this competition is over. Far from it. I wish to defer the results of this competition, pending a second, final challenge.” I began, eliciting a hundred gasps from the crowd. “I wish to call upon my points of gentlemanly deferral, to raise the newrealmer the offer of a higher stakes wager which I will honor, provided the newrealmer bests me in this upcoming House Choosing Ceremony.” A smile once more crept across my face as I could feel the newrealmer’s mind racing with a primitive drive to reach for that golden grouse, for the coveted desire of earning more by teasing another fight. “Do you accept, Emma Booker of Earthrealm?”

My gambit was set, and even Lady Ladona appeared to be looking on with a rejuvenated hope.

All eyes shifted to the newrealmer’s response, as a ray of hope finally entered the fray in the form of this assured escalation.

“No thank you, but I appreciate the offer!” Came the newrealmer’s words, as she responded in that insultingly upbeat, almost dismissive cadence.

I felt as if a phantom’s hand had just smacked me right across the face.

My limbs ran cold, and my cheeks burned with the intensity of a thousand suns.

Frustration, hatred, and a seething rage filled me, as I eyed that hand with the accumulated ire of an entire week’s worth of pent up fury threatening to boil over.

And so, with my escape routes blocked off, I would have to fight my way out.

My hand reached down, poised to slap the newrealmer’s hand away.

I felt the alien fabric of her digits, then, suddenly—

“Ah!”

—pain.

The Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts. The Hall of Champions. Competitor’s Field. Local Time: 1150

Emma

You didn’t need to be an expert or anything to anticipate a slap coming for your hand.

A split second was all I had in order to make a call… not that I needed to think much about it.

I was just so done with the bull, at least for today.

So, to avoid further public humiliation, and to put this entire day’s shenanigans to rest, I took active measures to ensure everything would end right here, right now.

The competition, the wager, the bull’s arrogance (at least for today), ended with a firm grip of his hand.

One that I held just long enough, and coerced into a shake, in order to save both of us from further shame.

I was doing him a favor.

Or at least, I hoped so.

His pained expressions gave me an immediate pause.

However, I quickly realized at the last second exactly why he’d reacted so viscerally.

As a quick pan across my HUD revealed that the EVI had kept my prior orders active; the orders from the arm-wrestling challenge that is.

In short, it was set to match, and slightly exceed, any force or strength applied.

The bull could’ve simply avoided this by refraining from his antics.

Instead, he had to have gone for a slap… and a pretty hard one at that.

The man just kept managing to reap what he sowed.

A sigh escaped my breath as I pulled back that hand shake, Chiska arriving on scene, as he managed to recover remarkably quickly from that debacle.

“Well… I guess it’s the gesture that counts.” I managed out with a chuckle, one that would’ve been countered if it wasn’t for Chiska once more addressing both us and the crowds.

“Good sportsmanship goes a long way, and I am happy to see this resolved with a good, solid handshake! Isn’t that what this was, Lord Ping?” Chiska managed those latter words under her breath, one that when accompanied by the wyvern’s hot breath, elicited a reluctant nod from the man.

“Good! Now that this impromptu wager has been resolved, I hereby officially grant you, Cadet Emma Booker, free reign to participate in all magical physical activities! Congratulations on your efforts, and suffice it to say, I will be maintaining a close eye on you for the duration of this year’s PE classes!” She beamed brightly, that excitement translating to her energetic jostling of my shoulder, one that I had to purposefully force the suit to follow the motions of.

“Now the rest of you!” She turned to the class. “You all did a commendable job! And for those of you who decided to participate in all of the activities, I award you, each, fifty points!”

A series of gasps erupted from the entirety of class, most were frustrated, whilst others were utterly ecstatic.

Gumigo, for one, looked on with crossed arms and a satisfied grin, with the rest of his crocodile troupe jumping for joy.

They’d all participated, which meant a solid two hundred points had just been acquired for their peer group in the span of a single period.

Qiv seemed quite satisfied as well, nodding with his signature smug look plastered across his maw.

“And for those of you who participated in more than one activity, I award you five points per activity!”

A few students began doing the math, which I more or less managed to do in my head right off the bat.

The fifty points were surprisingly fair.

With a total of four stations for the non-magical competition, and five for the magical, six if you count the distances between each station… this more or less added up.

“But don’t think I’ve forgotten about you two!” The professor jostled the both of us again. “For your tenacity and efforts, and in sticking to your word by accepting and following through with the challenge you incited, I award you, Lord Ping — seventy-five points, on top of your fifty points for completing all stations.”

Auris' eyes grew wide at that, but that was before Chiska pulled the rug from beneath his feet.

“However, for Lady Ladona’s brazen act of disrespect, I deduct fifty points from your group.” She stated plain and simply, causing Ladona in the bleachers to sink even deeper into the crowds.

“And finally, Cadet Emma Booker?”

“Yes, professor?”

“I award you ninety additional points on top of the fifty points for completing all stations.” The professor grinned brightly, swishing her tail now as she was clearly eager to get to her next points. “This isn’t for you finishing first, mind you. Nor is it for you winning the competition and reaping the rewards for your wager.” She added with a raised finger. “But instead, it’s for a display I rarely see nowadays, and one that I want to see more of amongst the student body!” She made sure to hammer that point home into the crowd, as she directed her voice more towards them than myself. This back and forth started to feel more like a public conversation by the second.

“Sportsmanship! Chivalry! The spirit of honor for the sake of honor, not face! These are the sorts of things that have slowly withered from the halls of this grand gymnasium. Too long have I seen a shift from challenges made in good faith, to ones of vapid gain and plays of shifting political interests. Too long have I seen sports and physical education shift away from its noble origins, into a mere tool for ungentlemanly gains. The Academy is a time for personal growth, to play in a safe and controlled environment that rarely exists outside of its walls! This isn’t the time to perform cutthroat politics… you have your whole lives to commit to that, after all.” That latter statement was made with a certain level of genuine sadness, one that almost brought her spirits down. Almost, being the operative word here. “Henceforth, I wish to see more of this genuine spirit of chivalry and sportsmanship.” The professor made the effort of gesturing towards me this time around, making the impetus behind this speech clear… if it wasn’t clear enough.

“This is not to say I will be overstepping my bounds to limit your points of personal privilege. However, know that I will reward what I see as chivalrous, honorable, and good-faith actions. And understand that I will punish acts of bad-faith, breach of authority, and anything I deem as a gross misconduct of the established rules.” She clarified, before noting the arrival of the real band this time around, as their signature music started to echo across the field. “I wish to see a return to the glory days, a return to better times, and I hope that — against all odds — this year group will be the year to turn that hope into a reality. Now! With all of that being said, class is dismissed! Oh, and, if this wasn’t clear already, with physical education usually taking up one period, this is the final period of this week! Have fun! But not too much fun, for you have a shopping trip and a house choosing ceremony to attend this weekend!”

The crowd’s reaction was mixed this time around, as the professor’s rapid-paced speeches had more or less shoved two Vanavan classes’ worth of emotions into a single announcement.

Most seemed satisfied to have been awarded their points, and their egos stroked, albeit in a roundabout way.

A good chunk seemed to glare at me, before lumping themselves in with Auris as soon as he left the professor’s grip, with less than desirable words and accusations being tossed my way as soon as they’d left earshot.

“Know that whatever happens, we will follow you to the ends of the Nexus itself, Lord Ping.”

“You were duped out of a victory and into this appalling state of affairs. In fact, this ‘professor’ is either delusional or has fallen for the newrealmer’s spell. We will not fall into the same traps, Lord Ping.”

“Strong are the ones who maintain their faith and integrity. And only the strong shall survive the year. You have our support, Lord Ping.”

“As much as I wish to make a standing ovation, does anyone else find it odd how the newrealmer was able to push beyond her earlier limits—”

“A trick and nothing more!”

Yet as much as the loud crowd seemed to take center stage, so too were more groups forming. This time, around Qiv’s orbit, as he weaved his way back towards the stands.

“Truly a disappointing display by our fellow, wouldn’t you say, Lord Qiv?”

“Bested and humiliated by a newrealmer… through an offer of chivalrous de-escalation no less.”

“Whether or not that was a political play or a move made of noble intent, Ping managed to somehow find the worst way out of that predicament. A simple hand-shake would’ve been preferable to the fate he’d inflicted upon himself.”

“As much as I find the newrealmer savage to be simple-minded, it’s clear she’s found her place, and has made moves to become a professor’s favorite. I would say it’s remarkable, if it wasn’t for the fact that the class she chose to tie her affinities to was physical education, of all things. It’s clear to me she’s simply playing to her strengths.”

However, in spite of the two large crowds, a small minority had gathered around the Gumigo-Etholin orbit, clearly roused by the professor’s speech, and to an extent, the mystery surrounding the armor’s capabilities.

“Well well well, chaps! Two hundred points!” Gumigo began with a cocky rub of his blunted claws against his leather sash. “But points and our successes aside… is there anybody else who wishes to address…” He paused, his eyes glancing towards me still in the field. “The loud clunker in the stadium?”

“Yes, yes! The noise and the speed! I’ve noticed it too! There must be something to it… it couldn’t have been mere trickery… there was a clunky, unnatural, almost otherworldly noise emanating from the armor during that run.”

“Indeed, indeed! Some form of… dare I say it, unnatural phenomenon. It couldn’t have just been her physicality to have been the source of that. No. Otherwise, why the noise?”

“A distraction, maybe?”

“For what purpose? To hide her physicality? That’s silly. Why create a distracting noise when there is nothing to gain from it being hidden? There must be something more. Something we aren’t seeing.”

“Something beneath the armor?”

“Or perhaps even the armor itself.”

“I can say, for most of us, we didn’t notice the clunks.”

“Well you weren’t on the field where it was most obvious.”

“This is not the place for such talks.” Qiv finally entered the fray, arriving at the stands and scattering the group, as another distinct chunk of the year group now took over from where those stray conversations had taken place.

“ATTENTION ALL STUDENTS!” Ilunor began, having forcibly dragged Etholin back up to the highest benches of the stands, forcing the poor thing to once more hold his oversized hat-turned-sack. “With the competition coming to a close, I hereby wish to distribute the spoils of this gentlemanly wager!” He announced triumphantly, with a big fat grin on his face that did nothing but to incur the ire of the crowd. “To Prince Thalmin of Havenbrock, twenty sovereigns!” He dug around the sack, handing the prince this ‘paltry’ sum. “And to the host, to yours truly, with which the remainder of the wagers have been counterbalanced upon—” Ilunor paused for dramatic effect, doing nothing but to elicit even more groans of annoyance at his actions. “—I take away ten-thousand one-hundred and ninety-four sovereigns!”

The deluxe kobold was practically cackling with joy at that point, looking as if he was standing on top of the world, even more ecstatic at the entire affair than I was at winning the damn thing.

However, as quickly as that excitement began, so too was it tempered.

This time, by an unexpected party.

“Ahem.” Etholin vocalized, clearing his throat. “As the purse master, it would be unbecoming of me if I did not ask for my own shares of the winnings, Lord Rularia.”

“I beg your pardon, Lord Esila?!”

“I politely request my purse master’s fees, in both the traditional cut, and as a lump sum surcharge serving as compensation for the suddenness of the entire affair.” The man clarified in no uncertain terms, and for the first time, looking as if he was actually in his element.

No amount of indignant rage from the Vunerian could keep the ferret down, as he acquiesced surprisingly quickly.

“Two percent, and a lump sum of two-hundred.” Ilunor stated firmly, digging around the sack as he did so, whilst a parchment and quill suddenly appeared out of nowhere, writing down what seemed to be a whole contract in a matter of seconds.

“Ten percent, and a sum of one-thousand.” Etholin shot back, his eyes narrowing with a knowing expression.

“Three and two-fifty.” Ilunor countered with an indignant hiss, the floating pen crossing a few lines, only to replace them with the new proposals.

“Nine and nine-fifty.” Etholin rebutted confidently.

“Three point five and three-fifty.”

“Seven and eight-hundred.”

“ENOUGH!” The Vunerian shouted, flames spewing from his open maw. “Four point five percent, and five-hundred.” He announced with finality, prompting Etholin to nod affirmatively in response.

“Deal.”

“DEAL!”

The whole affair was concluded with a shake of hands, and a signing of the contract which resulted in the immediate ‘transfer’ of the coins over to Etholin in the form of a trail of gold flowing directly to the little pouch on his belt.

The rest of the gold was quickly dumped out of Etholin’s hat and into Ilunor’s own pouch, one that grew to size in order to fit the sheer volume of gold, only to shrink back into a small pouch that clipped onto his belt.

The whole affair was surprisingly civil, especially when compared to the Auris Ping drama that had preceded it.

Immediately following that however, I felt a tap on my shoulder, as Chiska gestured for me to follow with an expectant smile. “Walk with me, Cadet Booker.” She urged.

I complied with a shrug, as a privacy screen soon blanketed the both of us.

“There are few things that surprise me in my old age, Cadet Booker. Fewer that brings me both a sense of excitement and hope. Part of this, of course, comes from your refreshing adherence to the noble expectations of a gentler time. Though I would be lying if I didn’t mention the dragon in the cell, or in this case, your uncanny abilities to defy standard conventions of strength and endurance.” The professor began with that same overture of positivity she exuded from her end-of-period announcement. “With that being said, I understand that there are… certain limits placed upon how much you can elaborate on these uncanny abilities. So, in the spirit of the rules, but in placating that ever-present gnawing of curiosity, I must ask… exactly what happened between the mana-less, and magical trials?”

I paused for a moment, as we now reached the foot of the bleachers, with most students currently in the process of leaving the stands. “I applied that which I am not allowed to talk about, professor.” I responded with a knowing ‘wink’. “I pushed beyond my natural limits, using techniques never before seen, or heard of, in the Nexus, and beyond.” I continued vaguely, only eliciting a greater degree of scrutinizing stares from the professor.

“I see.” The professor nodded, placing her chin between her fingers as she entered a state of deep thought. “And is that all?”

“As far as the dean will allow me to say, Professor.”

A frustrated sigh escaped from Chiska’s short muzzle. “I see. Well… it’s not like there’s going to be a shortage of time with you, Cadet Booker. We’ll have to see where this rabbit hole takes us then. Until such time, I bid you farewell.” The professor closed things off with a smile, as she quickly hopped back on the wyvern that’d been following us all this time. “Oh! And do contact me if you ever want to sign up for extracurriculars! My office will always be open to you, Cadet Booker!” She shouted, dropping the privacy screen, and leaving the same way she entered — through the skylight.

This time around, she’d simply phased through the glass, saving us from the hassle of being impaled by a hundred shards of shattered glass.

“Well well well.” A familiar voice emerged, one that was accompanied by a loud clink with every other step. “For someone who seems so confused by the theater of life, you seem to play the role of the knight in shining white armor quite well, earthrealmer!” Ilunor began with a voice of unfettered joy.

“It was just a handshake, Ilunor. It was literally just a handshake. Why do you guys have to make such a huge deal out of every little thing? Especially ones meant to de-escalate things?” I shot out with a frustrated breath. “And no, before you answer, I know, I know. It’s a statement of superiority, an affront to the established class order, etcetera, etcetera.” I groaned.

“Intentionally or not, you have made great strides in improving our standing. So thank you, earthrealmer.” The blue thing once more shocked me with this growing sense of appreciation, sending me into wordlessness as I stood there shook by his compliments.

“Do not be enamored by his honeyed words, Emma.” Thalmin retorted, moving towards us now after sending the ever-enamored Cynthis away. “Note how he only reacts positively when he has something to gain. Which today was three-fold. The points you earned, the reputation you accrued, and the coin you’ve secured for him through your victory.”

“The coins which I earned, mind you, Prince Havenbrock! If it wasn’t for my quick-thinking, then there would be no coin to speak of!”

“And if it wasn’t for Emma, then you’d have nothing to bet off of.” The prince growled.

“Therefore, the coin should be awarded to those most deserving of it.” Thacea finally interjected. “Given the nature of the upcoming trip into Elaseer for school supplies, and given the cruel nature of being the candidate of a newrealm, these funds should prove useful.” The avinor began, as she elicited a sigh from the Vunerian.

“I was going to suggest that, princess.” He announced dejectedly.

“I have my doubts about that.” Thalmin butted in, but was promptly ignored by the Vunerian.

“I will hand over only what is necessary for this town trip.” Ilunor clarified. “Only a quarter should cover the costs of her supplies! If she even needs any, that is!”

“We may be looking into using about half, if not more than those funds, Ilunor.” Thacea countered, eliciting a look of shock from the Vunerian, as she gestured for us to continue off and out of the stands. “This may be better discussed somewhere more private.”

With a collective nod between all of us, we began making our way back towards the dorms. Though a mostly wordless trip, one conversation did crop up, as I quickly addressed Thacea with an appreciative nod. “Thanks again for the scarf, Thacea. I’m assuming you’ll probably want it back though—” I spoke, reaching over to remove the red scarf, only to be stopped by the avinor.

“It’s quite alright, Emma.” She responded politely, and with a candid smile. “I’d rather you keep it as a keepsake of today’s adventures. Moreover, I’m more than certain it should prove useful next class, so there’s no need to return it.”

“Thanks, Thacea.” I nodded with a smile, keeping the scarf on for now with a smile of my own.

The Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts. Dragon’s Heart Tower, Level 23, Residence 30. Local Time: 1220 Hours.

Emma

“The PMC route, huh?” I muttered out, more to myself, than anyone else. “You know, that’s what I’ve been considering too, but I never thought that it would be this… straightforward.” I offered, prompting Thacea to nod once in response.

“Adventurers exist for a reason, Emma. For situations that may require a… third party, or in circumstances where an unaffiliated party may be required, or even in instances such as these, where your own assets may be limited — they offer an easy solution to enhance one’s reach.”

“Provided you have enough coin, that is.” Ilunor chimed in with an annoyed groan.

“Searching for an amethyst dragon… is most certainly going to be expensive.” Thalmin admitted.

“Expensive is a relative term, Prince Thalmin.” Ilunor shot back, before sighing inwardly. “Though in this case, within the context of our recent winnings, it may indeed be quite costly.”

“My estimates put the potential cost of a search for the amethyst dragon to be at approximately two-thousand five hundred sovereigns, not including provisions, guild fees, taxes, or under-table taxes.” Thacea quickly added.

“And that’s not even including the specialist fees that may be tacked on to such a quest. Moreover, the nature of the quest must be specified, as you may find there to be a stark difference between simply tracking down the dragon, versus slaying it outright.” Ilunor perked up. “Because those are two fundamentally different tasks, princess.”

“The former may incur as much costs as the latter, Ilunor.” Thalmin offered with a raised hand. “From my experiences in hiring adventurers, there seems to be an equivalent fee in stealth as there is in combat. For finding the dragon is one thing, but maintaining stealth whilst approaching and evading it is another.”

“Which may cost as much as actually engaging it, if not a bit less, I suppose.” Ilunor shrugged.

“The real reason why combat missions incur a higher toll, is the potential for compensation for a dead adventurer, or a hefty fee in reviving them.” Thalmin chimed in, eliciting a nod from both Thacea and Ilunor.

“Hazard fee, injury fee, full medical coverage, gotcha.” I surmised. “Alright, so, whether we decide to find it or kill it, I gotta ask. How much are we looking at this then, like, total?”

“Five thousand gold, give or take? With all the fees included. Not including the potential compensation for lost lives or revivals.” Ilunor chimed in, prompting Thacea to nod affirmatively.

“A conservative estimate of the fees, but close enough.” Thalmin added.

“Alright, well, that seems good enough I suppose.” I let out a hefty sigh. “In any case, maybe we could continue discussing this at a later time? I think we have a library to visit, Ilunor.” I stated bluntly, prompting the Vunerian to shiver in place. “But before that, we need to pay a visit to the armorer to retrieve a certain little book, the sign did say he would be open today after all.”

“Oh here we go again… dear Majesty, protect me…” Ilunor muttered out under his breath.