After looking around for a few minutes, I made an uneducated guess and followed what looked like my own tracks. Fortunately, a few minutes later, I found an actual footprint in the ground that matched my own and was able to follow that direction out to the brush that lined the perimeter of the Academy. As I stepped onto the gravel path once again, I glanced where I thought the suns would be -only to realize they have yet to rise above the treeline.

“Ah, how long was I gone for?”

With a quick mental calculation, I blinked. Shock caused my mouth to drop slightly.

“It felt like ages…” I looked down at my training clothes, they were wrinkled and with black lines rubbed into them from the sliding roots, even ignoring the wounds beneath the outfit I looked definitively disheveled, “All that and I was only gone for half an hour?”

While my muscles weren’t exhausted, there was a type of fatigue that had settled into my body from depleting my magic and though the few minutes of walking through the forest had helped with the recovery it still felt as if I was lesser. I had refused to acknowledge the notifications from the [System] after the fight, and I was still in no mood to go through them, but I had a sinking suspicion there might be an answer there.

I approached the door I’d used to escape before and briefly attempted to brush some of the marks off. Fortunately, what remained was barely darker than the deep purple edges. After some of the more obvious marks shrank I took a breath and pulled open the door.

Well, I pulled on the door.

“It’s locked?” I swore under my breath.

This morning has been tiring, physically and emotionally. Can’t one thing go right? Why is it locked? Everyone is given a key anywa- I gave a mental sigh and flicked a hand to my side.

“Hp!” I quickly snatched the metal plate, the one the man from the office had given me, off my belt and held it up, “He said this would let me come and go?”

I brought the plate up to the handle, watching as a gentle purple light began filling in unfamiliar runes that ran along the edges of the metal. After all of the designs were lit, I heard a faint click as the door unlocked. Pulling my hand back slightly, I tugged open the door and began creeping back through the hall.

I let a whisper of a thought slide through my mind and before I could stop myself I let the word bubble out, “[Translucent]”

As the icy draw of magic pulled on my stomach, a sharp pain snapped the magic back to me and prevented the [Skill] from activating.

I sucked in air and fought back a groan, “Right. I overdid myself.”

After the fight in the clearing, I was too emotionally shell-shocked to process much of anything, and the numbness that had followed the berserker rage hadn’t fully left me. It felt like I was teetering on the edge of becoming unhinged if I indulged in any of the emotions from earlier -whether it was the panic from [Otherworldly] or the rage from being attacked. This magic-fatigue was at the very least quelling the original Eunora’s anxiety -making the lack of [Translucent] not nearly as debilitating as it would have been on the come down from this morning’s panic attack.

“Doing what?” I froze mid-step as a rough voice flowed from a doorway to my right. I could feel the irritation radiating from the space before I even looked over -and once I did, I had to quickly look back in front of me.

Klein, despite being a teenager himself, usually had an aura of maturity surrounding him -from the way he denied my provocations on the original trip to how he handled himself on duty. Even when he showed his distrust, he had never been disrespectful or unprofessional. He had always been composed and polite. But, Klein felt distinctly not composed right now.

“That [Skill] you just tried to activate - it’s a camouflage [Skill], isn’t it?” I wouldn’t say it was… a friendly question. In fact, I would say the tone was borderline unfriendly.

“It’s, uh,” I thought about lying, about deflecting, but what was the point? I’d already opened myself up to him and Theo earlier. Not to mention showing Gristle and Sylvia my [Class]. I brought my eyes back to his face, facing the fury in his eyes, “Yes.”

“Is that how you caused a stir on the caravan?”

Klein was in a casual stance, leaning against the doorframe, but as I let my full Perception take him in I could see just how tightly wound his body was. His muscles were all locked, and though his arms were crossed I could see the whites of his knuckles.

“Well, sort of?” I flinched when a muscle in his jaw twitched at my response, “It’s what started it?”

“That’s not a common [Skill] for a newly Awakened child.”

It wasn’t really a question, and so I didn’t answer. Though I felt my posture straighten as I realized what was happening.

“In fact, neither is an aura -or the two mental [Skills] I’ve seen you use.”

“So you noticed that was a mental [Skill] earlier?” I tried to force a light tone, but I’m certain Klein could still hear the slight shake in my voice.

He just stared at me with a flat look.

“Are you-” I felt my voice hitch a bit and stopped, taking a slow breath I restarted with a steadier voice this time, “Are you going to tell my family?”

I don’t want to be useful to a family that forgot Eunora existed. I don’t want to be forced to pretend I care about the Dawn name. I don’t- I forced another breath to calm my once more spiraling thoughts. This time, there was no influence of the mind of a child. These thoughts were thoroughly, completely mine.

An unreadable expression crossed his face as he took a moment to take in my question. Whether it surprised him or not, I couldn’t tell. After several seconds passed, I felt the tension in my body reach an apex, and I had to stop myself from asking him again. Fortunately, I only had to wait a moment more, as Klein shook his head and let some of the tension in his own stance relax.

“No. But I’ll have to tell the Captain about it.”

“I guess that’s understandable,” I mentally swore, but tried to keep my face neutral as I glanced down the hallway then back to him, “Has the class already started?”

He shook his head again, but only slightly, “You didn’t answer earlier. You said you overdid yourself. Doing what?”

I paused, furrowing my brow, trying to decide if I should go back to half-truths and jokes. But what is the point? He has seen so much -and I’ve already told him about my [Skill] revision.

“I don’t want to tell you,” at least that was the truth. I saw his body tense up all over again, meanwhile, I had finally relaxed, “I think we’ll have to talk later anyway, let’s wait until then.”

Before he could ask anything else I began walking down the hall again, waving tiredly as I passed by him, “I’m going ahead.”

I couldn’t quite get myself to make eye contact as I did so -and the hallway felt three times as long as I made my way back to the doorway I had hidden behind earlier. The oppressive feeling only subsided once I rounded the corner.

Staring at the double doors that lead back to the courtyard, I took a deep breath. I did my best to de-mess my hair, bringing my curls under as much control as I could hope for. Luckily, the band hadn’t loosened too much, so only a few loose curls had fallen to line my face.

I walked in, started hyperventilating, ran away, and now I’m coming back looking like I rolled around on the forest floor. Could be worse -I could be bleeding. At that thought, I did a quick check, No, no blood seeped through the fabric.

With a questionable pep talk, I pulled the door open and straightened my back. This time, the fading numbness that had overcome me in the forest protected me from any too-intense thoughts. I still felt the fear the past child had ingrained in her, but now that I was expecting it I was able to put on a neutral expression and keep my body poised.

As I took in the courtyard, I realized last time I didn’t actually look around. I had been so preoccupied with the ‘Administrator’ meddling that I had just assumed the worst, and let the tunnel vision take over. Now that I had a clear head and could take in the scene before me, it was even easier to banish those thoughts.

The courtyard itself was packed dirt, with four quadrants outlined in white chalk - likely meant for sparring like at the barracks. The training field stopped roughly ten feet from the courtyard walls, and the borders were paved with staggered stones. Several benches lined the field, situated beneath windows. At first, I had thought the courtyard was simply open to the outdoors but, now that I was actually looking, I could tell there was a glass top with metal designs above the field. The designs were simple - with an occasional swirl at the corner of a windowpane or at a joint, but their simplicity fit the style of the Academy as a whole. Had the designs been particularly extravagant I would have been taken aback, the outside of the building was bland as could be after all. There were several groups of children lingering about the courtyard, some with as many as ten children and a few with only two or three. Roughly forty kids were scattered about, so several must have shown up while I was gone. Surprisingly, there were only two children left alone - one had taken over a bench by the entrance and was laying with his legs stretched out, not a care for anyone else. He had on well-fitting clothes with gold finishings and while several others were eyeing him, he simply relaxed with his eyes closed. The other loner was a girl standing at the center of the courtyard. She was wearing a roughspun outfit, of dubious construction, but it did fit her well enough. Her clothes themselves weren’t out of place, there were several groups of similarly clad children. Rather, it was the color of her hair that drew my eye - the pink of freshly spun fairy floss. If I hadn’t already seen Sylvia, I would be in awe. And even then it was quite a sight. It looked soft as silk. When paired with the sword at her hip, she looked more like an ethereal warrior than a princess. The sword itself looks like it cost several times more than everything else she brought put together. The handle was made of a matte black metal with an emerald embedded in the pommel. It was well made, but not extravagant. As I glanced around, I couldn’t help but notice there were only half a dozen other kids who had a weapon with them -and all of them looked to be some sort of noble or high merchant. And if her eyes being glued to the sky was any indication, she had noticed that as well.

A couple of the smaller groups had glanced my way when I returned, but I simply let my eyes focus on the empty space in front of four massive bins to the right side of the courtyard. The chatter of the courtyard was a dull hum of small talk and introductions, of which the children were neither skilled with nor fond of. Well except for the two larger groups with just about ten kids each, those seemed to be less small talk and introductions and more ingratiating themselves to each other with a mix of well-polished and clumsy compliments. The group to my left had positioned themselves with well-enough-dressed children surrounding three that were dressed immaculately. The three at the center were joking with each other casually and occasionally pulling in the other children to fill space in their conversation with pleasant words. The other group had settled in the corner to the right of the bins I was currently approaching.

The atmosphere there was more severe, with seven children chatting amongst themselves while complimenting two others sporadically - the two themselves appeared to be refusing to acknowledge those that were standing in front of them. Yet, they were not talking to each other. There didn’t seem to be a difference in how the two were dressed when compared to the rest of their group, but that simply meant I didn’t see any additional finishings that would make their clothing noticeably costlier. On occasion, one of the two boys at the center would shoot a sharp look out at someone in the distance. There were too many small groups speckled around for me to figure out who he was looking at.

As I settled in front of the bins, roughly a dozen feet from the containers, I noticed that the four bins were truly sixteen. Each large bin was actually four tubs that had been flush with each other. Each tub had a different insignia - from top-down, they appeared to be the symbols for sword, dagger, spear, and - well, I wasn’t exactly sure what the fourth tub was. Miscellaneous? At the center, where all four tubs met, there was a plaque with a number - the left most tub had a bronze plate embossed with a one, then from there it went a silver two, a gold three, and finally a black sheet with a purple four. At that, I ran my fingers over the metal rod on my hip. The purple was a near match for the glowing runes that had unlocked the door earlier.

I only had a few moments to study the tubs before the door slamming shut brought my attention to the entryway. The woman who was walking towards the tubs, and me by default, was projecting power. She took my breath away. I could feel her strength permeating the air, whether it was a [Skill] or simply her person I wasn’t sure. And it wasn’t just that she was strong, she was beautiful. She had light brown hair loosely pulled back and sharp eyes that belonged to a predator. She looked early thirties, and her every movement spoke of control and power. Her movements were that of a beast holding back so as not to spook its prey. With every step, the light highlighted the muscles in her forearms -the only skin showing beside her clavicle and above. She was in a flowing top with the sleeves rolled up past her forearms that was tucked into brown leather pants, in turn, those were tucked into matching leather boots. She didn’t have a weapon on her belt, but her aura told me she probably didn’t need one. My eyes didn’t leave for form even when she was standing half a dozen feet away staring back out at the training field.

And when she spoke, I could feel the respect she demanded pushing down on me. Any sound that had once filled the training field died as she looked over the children gathered.

“As many of you know, I am Instructor Revel. For those that don’t, I handle the first year practical courses during Spring and Summer. I specialized in the spear, as well as unarmored combat.”

Revel scanned the room before continuing, and I had to fight a shiver as we made eye contact.

“First things first, it is the beginning of a new month. We have six new arrivals.” With a casual snap of her fingers, six golf ball sized motes of red lights appeared and floated across the training field. One settled just above my head and I glanced around to take in the other five -three boys and two girls. They didn’t leave a lasting impression.

“For the benefit of the new arrivals, I will go over the basics. Existing students should still pay attention - you may learn something you tuned out last go round.” Her voice was humorless, as she continued in a matter-of-fact way, “The most important fact to keep in mind is that, within the walls of the Academy, noble status does not supersede Academy status. There are no ranks at the Academy and any perceived slight against a noble is not permitted to be punished outside of the Academy per the Academic Accords of Lunar Year 1101, as Decreed by the High Crown. And challenges to one’s honor can be settled via official duels after your second year -if something happens before then… Well, just wait it out.

Next, as decreed by the Crown, the Academy has been permitted to record your growth during your time at the Academy. As your family likely told you, your [Status] is sacred -and the Crown respects that. However, the Crown also acknowledges that in order to help our youth grow the Academy needs to know your starting abilities. At the end of the first week of every month, we will measure the first years. There is one instructor who performs the measurement - for anyone new, that is who checked you in. His name is Greynar. He is mana-soul bound to the Crown with strict limitations on who -and under what circumstances, he can divulge status information. The measurements are optional, but I would recommend allowing at least a partial measurement for the first few months so that you can see clear improvement. Looking at growth charts helps keeps one motivated and gives a boost to confidence. If you have any concerns, you will be able to ask Instructor Greynar at the end of the week.”

I couldn’t help but take a steadying breath at this. I had figured something similar would be required but I hadn’t taken much time to really consider the implications. Would he be required to report my level? My strength? How much of my [Skills] will be visible? I had to stretch my hands to distract me, as Instructor Revel had not stopped speaking.

“Now, onto the schedule. Like all Crown-affiliated Academies, we run based on an eight-day four-week schedule. Six days on, two days off. Each week there are two types of courses: morning courses and afternoon courses. Morning courses are practicals. The same lesson is taught every day of that week. Practical lessons change each week. Afternoon courses are theory. They focus on hostile flora and fauna. The theory courses change each day, but anyone who does not attend theory can pick up the weekly booklet that covers that week's teachings. For today, I’ll bring them out at the end of practicals. Of course, relying solely on the book deprives you of the opportunity to ask questions of your instructors. However, we are aware that many of you are simply unable to dedicate eight hours a day, six days a week, to the Academy -though you are welcome to do so. We ask that you average attendance of at least 3 days a week. Any less and it is unlikely you will be able to pass the evaluation to enter the second year. Onto mandatory attendance. The first morning of every month is required for all first years. Look around, the-” Revel briefly paused, her eyes scanning all of us in half a second, “37 of you are the current first-year class. Over the next lunar year, you all will be working closely together. Please get along.”

“That said, the reason the first day of every month is required is this.” Revel leaned back on a single foot and half turned to swivel across the weapon tubs behind her, “Every month you will dedicate yourself to practicing a single weapon type. We recommend your first three months be sword-spear-dagger, in that order. You are required to have at least one month in each by the end of your first season here. The remaining three months are recommended to be split into two months of specialized weapons and one month of the basic three weapon types. As this is the second month of the season, I’d recommend cutting one of the specialized weapons. In the second season, you will be required to register a primary and secondary weapon. The first day of the month is when you will switch between the two. This should go without saying, but you are aiming for a [Skill] in your weapons of choice. The amount of time it takes someone to gain such a skill varies -if you have a combat class it could be as quick as a couple hours but if you have a non-combat class it could take you several days. The [System] knows your intentions, so if you hate a weapon you may never get a skill for it. At the same time, even if your [Class] is non-combat, if you pick a weapon you love the [System] is likely to reward your effort quicker. If you haven’t gotten a [Skill] by the end of the week, don’t worry. There is a [Skill] and then there is skill. Our aim is for you to have both, but sometimes passing knowledge is enough to save yourself in a dangerous situation.”

Instructor Revel took a moment to let the gravity of her word sink in before clapping her hands and giving us a dry smile, “Ok, last thing for today, the plates you were given function as both your entry permit into the school and tie you to a weapon bay. If your plate is bronze, you’ll unlock bay one. Silver is bay two. Gold is three. Mithril is four. And before you ask -no, your plates are not actually made up of those. They are all enchanted though, so the runes will only unlock the appropriate bay. Everyone pick a weapon. Take your time. For today, everyone is separated by bay, not by weapon, so stick with your bay in one of the four quadrants when you’re finished.”

As she stepped away, she held up her hand and circled her index finger telling us to start. My eyes followed her as she went over to a bench nearby and settled in, picking up a clipboard I hadn’t seen her drop off beforehand. Even from several dozen feet away I could see a faint red glow surrounding the clipboard. When I pulled my eyes away from Revel, I couldn’t help but notice a majority of students were at the silver and gold bays. No one had gone to the bronze bay. As my eyes settled on the mithril bay, I couldn’t help but focus on the four students selecting their weapons. The first two were the loners I’d noticed earlier, they each went directly for the sword bay. The other two were boys I hadn’t noticed when I walked in earlier. One was dressed in well-fitting, quietly luxurious training clothes -there was just something about how the clothes hung that left such an impression. He went for a spear. The last boy was dressed simply, but neatly. There were no wrinkles and the clothes fit well, but the finishings didn’t look particularly luxurious. Still, I could tell it wasn’t regular wear for a commoner. Likely he is from a merchant family. He went for the daggers. The four of them were quick about it, none taking more than a moment to grab what they wanted. They had likely already decided on the weapons they would focus on for this month.

Once the four of them had walked a bit away, and a large portion of the gold and silver bays were finished, I went up to the mithril bay. I paused as I thought back to the Instructor's recommendation, and since I didn’t have a preference I pulled out one of the wooden training swords. I was a bit surprised at how mundane it looked considering the fact that the weapons had to be separated out by strength. As I wrapped my hand around the hilt I felt a pang of disappointment at the weightlessness of it. It felt light as a pebble.

That thought only lasted another moment, as purple runes began outlining the weapons hilt and wooden edges. As I looked at it, I felt the sword become denser in my hand and I had to actually put effort into holding it aloft rather than treating it as inconsequential. As soon as the weight settled, the runes disappeared. What expression I was making I couldn’t say, but it was likely a mix between shock and awe. The wooden sword now felt hefty in my hands -in the satisfying way a baseball bat used to feel. It felt as if I could do damage. Pulling my eyes away from the sword, I scanned the training field -only to realize the others in my bay were at the nearest quadrant a few dozen feet away. The boy I’d seen laying on the bench was twirling his sword experimentally, seemingly adjusting to its weight. Meanwhile, the ethereal girl I saw earlier was holding her sword in one hand and the wooden sword in the other, whatever she was comparing was causing her to frown. Occasionally those two would glance at the remaining mithril kids. The two boys. Both were looking at me with grins on their faces and exchanging hushed words.

Holding back a frown, I started making my way over to the group of four. As I approached, one of the grinning boys leaned up against his spear and the other waved at me with his empty hand. The other two slowed what they were doing and looked over to me.

The boy leaning up against his spear has striking blue eyes and cropped hair, and his grin never slid off his face as he spoke, “I’m Louis. Louis Munster. Welcome to our elite little club.”

Next to him, the neatly dressed boy had shaggy blonde hair. After Louis spoke, a light pink settled onto his cheeks, and his grin was sheepish, “Don’t mind him, he’s a clown. I’m Oliver Gills. It’s a pleasure.”

He pointedly looked at the girl a few feet away and I turned slightly to meet her eyes. Her hair may be pastel, but her eyes were a deep ruby. They only enhance her ethereal look, and it took a bit of will to keep my face and posture unchanged. She sucked in her lower lip before finally speaking, “I’m Remour. I’m a local.”

Remour visibly winced between the brief moment when she finished her name and continued. To my left, I heard Louis half-whisper to the last boy, “C’mon Uriel, it’s your turn. Just get it over with.”

As the last boy, Uriel, cleared his throat, I turned slightly so I was facing all four of them. He didn’t seem particularly interested in this bit though.

“I’m Uriel Hyperion.” He seemed to mull over something before flicking his eyes behind me and back, “Feel free to call me Uriel though. The Instructor was right when she said the caste distinctions have no place here.”

Hyperion. I could feel my face freeze. For a very distinct reason. The Hyperion family is subservient to the Dawn family -in fact, all noble houses based on the sun are subservient to the Dawns, and many more that aren’t based on the sun. They were raised specifically due to their loyalty to the family. And the Hyperion’s were awarded the title of Marquis for just such a reason. In usual practice, a Marquis house would be higher than a Count -but the Dawn’s are ancestral Counts. Half a millenia ago the Crown awarded the Dawn’s the title and lands of a Dukedom. They simply choose to continue using their ancestral title. I knew there would be some local nobles, but what is a Hyperion doing here?

Taking a moment, I relaxed a bit, “I’m Nori. I’m from Adaline. Nice to meet you all -uh, Uriel, Louis, Oliver, and Remour?”

I looked at each as I said their name as if confirming and once I’d said my name I saw Remour visible relax. It must have been about the last name then. I smiled to myself. Louis and Oliver both nodded, but Uriel seemed to narrow his eyes. Before any other thoughts could build in his head, I looked at Louis and Oliver, “So what do your parents do?”

“I’m from a fishmonger family - we work mostly wholesale so you’ve likely not heard of us but my parents run Roma Fishing Co.” Oliver was holding back a laugh as he continued, watching the corner of my mouth twitch, “Yes, yes, Gills is the name my grandfather chose. The family loves it -pun of the century.”

Louis stared at my face for a beat before picking up the silence with a widening grin, “Well if you like puns then you’ll love this - Munster’s Monster’s Merchandiser. It’s a tongue twister.”

Remour cleared her throat, “Ah, my family mostly consists of local farmers and woodsmen. We’ve been in Fellan for generations.”

Right as I was about to respond, I caught sight of Revel approaching from behind. The clipboard still glowing faintly red. The closer she came, the clearer the image became and I realized the clipboard wasn’t glowing red. It was made up of condensed red light made solid. And as the Instructor walked, the papers on top appeared translucent as they fluttered.

Within a moment she was upon us, a neutral expression on her face as she glanced at the four others of the group. They all turned around to follow my gaze, and Louis and Oliver practically jumped as they straightened their backs and dropped their grins, “Louis - spear. Oliver - dagger. No surprises there.”

Revel’s voice was dry as she gave Uriel and Remour a glance, “Two swords, Uriel and Remour. And - huh.”

Her eyes had settled onto me and my sword. Before I could say anything else, Revel glanced down at her clipboard, then back to me, “Nori, right? Can I hold your weapon for a moment?”

Hesitantly, I nodded and held it out, “Yes, Instructor.”

As she wrapped her hand around the hilt just under mine I let go. The sword didn’t drop but Revel’s eyes widened slightly before she quickly recovered and her expression went back to neutral.

Even when she has RBF she’s gorgeous, can I be her when this body grows up? I mentally sighed.

Without another word she handed the wooden sword back to me and wrote something down on her clipboard. Right as she was about to go she glanced at the five of us and our curious expressions before huffing, “Just curious. We’ll separate into weapons once I finish rounds. Swords will stay here, spears quad two, daggers quad three, and specialized quad four.”